#it’s still not their best title track (or near the top) but it’s not horrible either ykwim

[undyinglantern]

chorus is still the weakest part of the song but I think I finally tricked myself into liking it

society if cinderella was the title track instead of cream soda. or whatever

[asciendo]

In too Deep

Your friends with benefits with Zuko was the best distraction from the upcoming battle with Ozai and Azula. 

But what happens when you slowly begin to catch feelings for Zuko but Sokka sets him up on a date?

It’s been six months since you and Zuko started your little fling. Both of you were the newest members of Team Avatar, Zuko being the redeeming Fire Prince and you being the daughter of a banished Fire Nation general who Zuko and Sokka rescued from the Boling Rock along with Sukki and Sokka’s dad. You’ve known Zuko since you were children but never interacted that much.

Both of you got on each other’s nerves at the start, both being stubborn on how to teach Aang how to fire bend. You knew deep down Zuko was meant to be Aang’s fire bending teacher but that didn’t mean your suggestions didn’t matter.

“I told you, you should teach him to learn how to flow with the energy, not just shoot fire out!” You rolled your eyes as Zuko huffed with a confused Aang stuck in a bending stance behind him.

“He has to learn how to hit his target, am I right?” Zuko marched towards you as you both continued to argue.

“Uhm, I feel like you both have good points, ha ha ha” Aang was always in the middle of your arguments and tried to defuse them, but he knew trying to control two hot heads was almost as difficult as defeating Fire Lord Ozai.

Your argument continued as Aang fell asleep, tired of waiting for his lessons to resume as you and Zuko were almost at each other’s throats, which resulted in Zuko shooting a fire ball on the tree where Sokka was sleeping. “HEY!”

“See! Look what you made me do!”

“What I made you do?! You threw that fireball all on your own!”

“If you hadn’t interrupted my training with Aang, we would be done by now!”

“If you just listened to someone else’s suggestions, Aang would be a better fire bender!” You and Zuko were literally in each other’s faces now, the only thing missing was smoke coming out of your ears as both of you were fuming at one another.

“If you weren’t such a know it all, I would never have gotten angry!”

“Well, you should learn to control your temper!” At your last outburst, both of you stormed off on your own.

“Am I ever gonna learn fire bending?” Aang sighed as he laid on the ground in defeat.

It seemed almost impossible for you two to start your fling, but one night you were practicing your bending on your own, then you suddenly heard footsteps behind you. Zuko.

“What do you want?” You rolled your eyes as Zuko approached you. “You have to let me teach Aang on my terms. I’m his teacher, not you.”

“I’m not trying to be his teacher, you’re just not teaching him everything.” you hated how he made you feel small and less capable, you knew you were a strong bender, almost beating Azula in a match once, and Zuko made you feel like your abilities weren’t good enough.

“I don’t need your help.” Zuko growled as he stepped closer to you. “What? Your ego can’t take a few suggestions, Prince Zuko?” His eyes narrowed at his title and he stepped closer to you till your back was against a tree. “Don’t call me that.” he said through gritted teeth.

“Why? What are you gonna do?” You teased and Zuko’s face turned into a scowl. Suddenly he was closer to you and your faces were almost touching. His exppression turned from anger to softness and you chucked nervously at how silent he became.

, “Zu—“ before you could finish Zuko’s lips were on yours.

You shot back in shock as you couldn’t believe what was happening. Your relationship with Zuko was more of a complicated one, filled with banter yet, deep understanding with your somewhat common past. Of course you found him attractive, with his shagy black hair, toned body and gold, piercing eyes, but you never thought anything like this would happen between the two of you. “Y/N..I-I’m so—“ this time, before he could finish, you crashed your lips on his. You didn’t know what it was but it just felt right, being with him in this way. His lips were chapped but still soft, although as the kiss went deeper you could feel the intensity in the way he grabbed your back and how you tangled your fingers in his hair.

That started your secret “fling” as you called it. Both of you didn’t want the others to know as they were just getting used to the idea of having two fire benders on Team Avatar. They didn’t suspect a thing as your bickering didn’t stop, but at night Zuko would secretly slip in your tent and you two would spend the night together. This happened every night ever since.

You noticed Zuko change a little bit towards you. He took your suggestions when he was teaching Aang seriously and on missions he’d always make sure he was near you.

There were moments when the both of you would sneak off while the gang was distracted, it was easy since you mostly camped out in the open.

You and Zuko would find an empty cave or under a tree far away and you’d get lost in each other.

Those nights when he’d have nightmares of his father, you’d be the one to comfort him. The same with you when you’d dream about your father, who you haven’t seen since you left the Fire Nation. It scared you how vulnerable the both of you were with one another.

One day, when you were bickering, Zuko went too far and made a snarky comment about your father. You looked at him with not just anger, but with fear, you were letting him in. You backed away and left the camp for a bit. He didn’t say anything that horrible, you were mean to him too. You questioned him about betraying Iroh and he replied by calling you out for not fighting hard enough to stay with your family.

It was true, you could have been in hiding with them, but you wanted to do something more for the world. You weren’t hurt by his words, but terrified how it was so easy for you to hurt each other, your fling was supposed to be something fun and to forget about the stress of trying to save the world.

You were in your tent, trying to sleep but failing. The sound of someone crawling into your tent startled you, but you already knew it was him.

“I’m sorry.” You didn’t move, you pressed your eyes shut and tried to pretend as if you didn’t hear him.

“I know you’re not asleep, Y/N.” He lowered down and was sitting next to you, “I said I was sorry alright?” his voice was low but husky and you could her traces of desperation.

“No.”

“What do you want me to say, I’ll say it!”

“Shhh! Are you crazy!” You sat up and attempted to cover his mouth but he dodged your hand. “I’m sorry, okay? I was a jerk, I didn’t mean it.” he looked into your eyes and you knew he was genuine. You weren’t being fair to him, you’re not hurt by his words but scared about what you were starting to feel for him. “You just...you just rile me up so much and my temper...you know how I get and I say things I don’t mean...I shouldn’t be that way towards you, I’ll tell Aang you can teach himsometimes..” you stared at him with such confusion, he was rambling. He only rambles when he’s nervous, and he was nervous with you.

“Are you gonna stop talking or are you going to get in here?” you chuckled and motioned to the space next to you. Zuko sighed then squeezed in next to you in the sleeping bag. “I’m sorry, too.”

Zuko sighed then looked down at you. You faced up towards him expecting to feel his lips on yours, but instead, you felt his lips on your temple. That night was the first time both of you just slept, entangled in one another, and in your heart you knew you were doomed.

6 months later...

“I saw you, you know...” Katara winked at you as you both were gathering water at the nearby lake. “What?”

“I saw you.” She followed you as you continued up the stream. “I see you too?”

“No...I saw you...and Zuko.” You stopped in your tracks. “Yeah, we travel together, Katara. We see everyone every day!” laughing awkwardly you began to gather more water.

“Uh-huh.” You could hear the eye roll in her voice as she walked in front of you with her hands on her hips.

“What exactly did you see?” sighing and giving up, you knew it was useless to lie. You were caught.

“Not much, thank god but...try picking a cave not so near the apple trees next time?” Katara chuckled.

You knew exactly what she was talking about. Zuko had a hard training day with Aang and he needed to blow off some steam, which was what you were there for.

It was your turn to feed Apa so you were gathering fruits for him until you felt strong arms around you.

“Zuko, bad timing, I need to feed Appa.” You smiled, but his grip tightened. “I need you, now.” He grumbled, but you weren’t budging.

“Y/N, please.” His breath was hot on your skin and your body tingled, but you liked to tease him so you broke off from his grip and walked away. You turned towards him and you could see the desire in his eyes, the desire for you. “If I feel like it.” you said as you lifted a tiny bit of your top, revealing your toned abdomen.

Zuko growled and walked towards you and pushed you up against a tree. “I need you.” He whispered and you smirked. “Then show me.” You stared at him with longing.

Zuko chuckled then lifted you up, then you straddled him. He spotted a cave near the tree you were picking apples from and carried you towards there. He placed you on one of the rock formations and you pulled him closer with your legs.

“Show me how much you need me.”

He smirked then crashed his lips on yours. Then the two of you were lost in each other once more.

You ended up telling Katara everything, she said was surprised but also not so much. “So you had a feeling?”

“A little, not really? I mean, you guys are always at each other’s throats but he has been a little bit more... I don’t know concerned about you?” She explained how she noticed that he let you give your input on Aang’s training more, and how when they have a new mission, he made sure he’d be paired with you and she even told you how he talked to Aang about how you shouldn’t be anywhere near the line of fire when the war starts. The time when you and Toph went on a mission to figure out where Boomie was, Katara told you Zuko was pacing back and forth and cursing at how he didn’t go with you, and how it should have been basically anyone but you that went on that mission. “I never knew why, but now everything makes sense.”

You sat there for a minute then opened up to Katara about how scared you were about your growing feelings. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about, seeing how he’s acting, he probably feels the same.”

The two of you made your way back to camp and found Zuko and Sokka laughing with each other. “What’s so funny?” Katara asked.

‘Zuko just scored a date!” Your heart dropped, but you tried to keep your exterior composure calm. “ What date?” Katara asked nervously as she just heard your story and encouraged you.

“We were in town and the girl at the hat store kept following Zuko, like NON-STOP! He didn’t believe she was into him but it was SO obvious! So I forced him to ask her out and he did!” Sokka punched Zuko on the arm playfully and Zuko laughed. “You should thank me, maybe having a girlfriend will make hot head over here less moody.” Sokka plopped down on the mat next to Toph and all you could think about was torching Sokka to no end. “So, when is this date?” Toph asked boredly next to Sokka. “Tonight?” Zuko laughed, “Well you better get ready lover boy.”

“I’m gonna give some water to Apa.” You announced and Katara followed you. “I’m SO sorry, I never would have encouraged you if—“

“Katara, it’s not your fault, you didn’t know, and besides...maybe this is a sign I should call the whole thing off?” you sighed and Katara nodded slowly.

“Oh sorry...am I interrupting?” behind you was a looming Zuko, grinning sheepishly as Katara stared daggers at him. “No, I was just leaving.” Katara huffed and left you two alone. “What’s her problem...”

You continued to separate the water for Apa as you heard him approaching you. “So...I’m seeing you tonight, right?” you stopped, tonight? Wasn’t his date tonight? Your heart suddenly felt lighter as you thought he cancelled with hat store girl.

“Isn’t your date tonight?”

“I mean...after?” your heart dropped. He was still going through with it. You felt your face turn red with anger, what were you to him? An object he can go to whenever he has his needs?! A simple plaything? It started off as that but you thought you somewhat meant more to him.

“What’s wrong with you?!” You stared at him with a hurt expression, his eyes widened and he stopped in his tracks. “What do you mean what’s wrong with me?”

You grunted and he shrugged in confusion.

“Zuko...we have to talk.”

“Uhm...okay, but I kind of have to get ready—“

“We should stop.” Zuko tilted his head as if questioning what you just said, but you knew deep down he understood what you were saying. “Stop what?”

“This! Whatever we’re doing!”

“Why? Is it because if this date? I just won’t go—“

“No, it was fun while it lasted but we’re just postponing the inevitable...you should go.” you turned away to continue with what you were doing. “Postponing the inevitable? What do you even mean by that?”

“We’re just holding each other back. We know this isn’t going anywhere and we’re just delaying it. Go, have fun. It’s time.”

“You wanted this too, you know! You said it was all fun and just a distraction! No commitments, no promises, nothing! You would remind me every night—“

“Exactly! We had our fun and now it’s over!” you turned towards him and his face was full of anger. “I can go on a date, we can do whatever we want! That was our agreement!”

“It was so why don’t you just go!” you tried to control your voice so no one would hear but it was so hard, you were so angry. “I am! I just told you I was going and you snapped and said you wanted to end it!”

“Because I’m not just some play thing you can get whenever you want! I’m not disposable.” You were inches in front of his face and you could feel the anger radiating from him. “What do you want from me...” he whispered and for a moment, it seemed like he was truly asking you what you wanted him to do, and for a second, you knew he’d do it if you asked. “Nothing.”

“You’re unbelievable!” Zuko, raised his arms in exasperation. “Me?! You’re the one going on a date.”

“You said you didn’t care.”

“I don’t.” You did. You did care, too much. This all started out for fun, but, you were in too deep with Zuko, and you couldn’t let yourself fall for him. “Then why are you ending it?! I don’t understand.”

“I just told you! I’m not just something you can just take when you feel like it!”

“Then tell me what you want!” He was up in your face again, you didn’t know what you wanted. You wanted Zuko, but you weren’t allowing yourself to want him. “I want this to end, and I want you to go on your date.” You said softly, and you saw a glimmer of pain in his eyes. “You want to end this so bad? Fine, it’s DONE. You just lost me.” He said with gritted teeth and began to walk away.

“No Zuko, I didn’t...because you can’t lose something you never had.” He turned around and stared at you with wide eyes that turned to sorrow. His expression quickly turned to anger that you thought you imagined seeing the sadness in his eyes.

“I’m leaving.”

“Go!” and he did. That was it. Your “relationship” with Zuko was over, and he was off with some other girl.

The next day you were on your way to Ember Island on Appa. Zuko had a hood on as people might recognize him when they arrived. Sokka kept asking Zuko how his date went but he would just shrug. “Well sorry for trying to get you some action!” Sokka rolled his eyes and Katara hit him, “Ow! What was that for!”

When you got to Ember Island, the whole gang hit the beach. Sokka and Suki were running around, Aang was making sand castles, you and Katara were in the ocean and Zuko was left sulking on the balcony in his ancestral home.

“I used to come here with his family, you know.” You told Katara as you played in the water. “You grew up together?”

“Not really, my father was a high ranking general so we’d be in the same vicinity, but no contact whatsoever.”

“I think you should talk to him...”

“Nah, I think it’s for the best, better to cut it off while it was still early.” It hurt, being around him, knowing your whole relationship was over. Even if it was nothing from the start, you started to get your hopes up and, it came crashing down.

“I don’t know...you both seem miserable now that you guys broke up—“

“We were never together.”

“Come on, Y/N! You both obviously like each other, you just don’t COMMUNICATE!” Katara rolled her eyes which made you laugh. “I think his date or whatever was a sign...it was getting too complicated, it’ll be for the best.” Before Katara could react, you both heard Sokka’s voice.

“Hey! Some dudes invited us to a party, let’s go!” Sokka yelled and the gang agreed to go, they needed a little fun before having to deal with the larger issue at hand, defeating the Fire Lord.

They were on the way to the house on foot with Aang dancing on the way there, Katara giggling, Sokka and Suki walking hand in hand while you and Zuko walked awkwardly next to each other.

As soon as you got to the house, a guy opened the door and invited you all in. The house was filled with fire nation teenagers and you all dispersed among yourselves. Sokka and Suki were dancing, Aang was showing fire bender girls some tricks, Katara was checking out the house and Zuko was sulking in the corner.

You decided to get some punch then someone tapped you on your shoulder. “Hey, I’m Han.” A tall, tanned and muscular guy was smiling at you. “Hey I’m...” you decided not to use your real name unless someone recognized you. “I’m Hania?” You mentally kicked yourself for choosing a name so close to his. “Hmm, interesting, so close to mine.” He winked and you blushed. He was cute, and from the horrible day you had, you needed some harmless flirting.

From across the room, Zuko stared at you two by the punch bowl. “Hey, lighten up! They are a bunch of hot girls here!...but don’t tell Suki I said that.” Sokka shrugged and nudged Zuko. “Zukoooo” Sokka tried waving a hand in front of Zuko’s face but Zuko kept his eyes on you and Han. “What are you looking at?” he looked where Zuko was gazing. “Oh, Y/N’s found a boyfriend ha ha.” Sokka chuckled and walked away and left Zuko there fuming.

“So, do you come here a lot? I haven’t seen you around Ember Island before.” Han asked you as he poured you a drink. “I used to when I was a kid, haven’t been back since.”

“Oh, why not?”

“Hmm, I don’t know, things change I guess?” you looked around for your friends just to make sure they were still there, then you locked eyes with Zuko. His eyes were intense and you could tell he was angry. But you didn’t care, you were nothing, you both made the decision to stop whatever you were doing with one another and you needed a little fun. “Do you wanna go look at the moon outside?” Han nodded and you both headed out to the balcony.

Zuko’s heart dropped as he saw you two leave.

“You’re an idiot, you know that right.” Katara rolled her eyes as she leaned next to him on the wall. “What?”

“I-D-I-O-T.”

“How am I an idiot?” Zuko shot up from leaning on the wall and Katara laughed. “You are so into her.”

“No I’m not!” Zuko crossed his arms and turned away from Katara. “I didn’t say her name, how do you know who I meant?” Katara kinked her eyebrow and Zuko rolled his eyes.

“You’re maybe the least happy person I know but when you were sneaking off with her, you were more tolerable for the rest of us.”

“Wa-wait what? Sneaking off—“

“Cut it out, I saw you guys.” Katara smirked and Zuko sighed in defeat. “Fine, we were fooling around. But that was it. I am NOT into her!” he started to walk away but he heard Katara giggle. “Then why have you been shooting daggers at the guy she was talking to all night?”

“B-because! He could be a spy of the Fire Nation! Her father was a recognized general you know! He could be targeting her and we’re all doomed! AND what if he’s working for Azula—“

“Uh-uh.”

“Stop looking at me like that! I’m not in love with her all right!” Katara’s face froze at Zuko’s last statement. “Love?!”

“What?”

“Are you in love with her?!” Katara started to smile as Zuko’s face turned bright red. “I said I’m NOT in love with her! Are you deaf?!”

“Zuko, I didn’t say anything about love in the first place...you said the word first.”

“So! I just said it to make a point, got it?” He leaned back on the wall and hung his head low. “Well, do you?” Katara asked him again.

Did he love her? All the times they were fooling around, he stared at her while she was asleep. He remembered feeling a sense of peace knowing she was next to him. He started to even look forward to their conversations in her tent rather than the physical stuff. He thought of how she’d throw her head back laughing whenever he told her about Uncle Iroh’s prankster antics when he was growing up. How her eyes shined in the moonlight when they’d take walks after dark. How when it was dusk and the sun would reach her eyes just the right amount and you could tell they were actually golden brown.

Zuko thought about the nights when she’d knowingly wrap her arms around his waist when he was having a nightmare about the Agni-Kai with his father. How her eyes lit up whenever she talked about her family. He thought about how he always wanted to protect her, if they had missions he wouldn’t be able to concentrate if she wasn’t near him, or how he couldn’t keep still when she was out on a mission with Toph or Katara, anxiously waiting for her to come back...to him.

“Shit” was all he said and slumped to the floor and buried his face in hands. “I thought so.” Katara smirked then sat next him. “What did I do? Agh! Why am I so bad at this stuff?” he grumbled and Katara just laughed. “You should tell her how you feel.”

“No! She’s off with that bonehead over there! It’s too late, maybe it’s for the best.”

“Ugh! You two are exactly the same!” She rolled her eyes and Zuko shot his head up. “What do you mean we’re exactly the same?”

“You both don’t simply TALK to each other! ‘Maybe it’s for the best’ my ass!”

“Huh?” Zuko looked at Katara with such confusion that Katara scoffed at him.

“You both said the same thing!”

“About what?” Zuko had no idea what she was talking about. “When you went on that date! She said “Maybe it’s for the best” that you guys break up.”

“She cared about that?” Katara stared at Zuko with astonishment; she didn’t think Zuko was this clueless.

“Zuko,,, I know you’re not stupid, but how do you think she felt when she found out you were going on a date?!”

“I didn’t think she cared...”

“Well she did.” Katara threw her hands up in defeat. How could boys be so stupid, she thought.

“Oh...” Zuko looked down and started remembering their conversation. He noticed the hurt in her voice when she accused him of treating her like an object he can just take whenever he wanted. He felt a pit in his stomach, he didn’t mean it to come off that way. “I-I didn’t even want to go it was Sokka!” Zuko tried to defend himself but Katara gave him a knowing look and he sighed.

“Fine..I was...starting to have...feelings for her...every night—“

“Aah! I don’t wanna hear what you guys do!” Katara began to cover her ears. “Calm down.” Zuko rolled his eyes.

“Every night...she’d always talk about how what we were doing was just a distraction...how this would eventually end...how we shouldn’t commit to one another...I mean we were sneaking around after all.” Zuko looked at Katara for her input but she motioned for him to continue.

“I agreed to it at first, obviously. But over time...I-I uhm...” Katara could see how hard it was for Zuko to express his feelings. Which made her feel bad about how much he holds in especially with how hard his past was. “You fell for her.” Zuko nodded.

“I went on that date because I was...scared. I was feeling too much for her and I knew she didn’t see it going anywhere, I wanted to prove to myself it was nothing. That my feelings for her weren’t real and I could just stop whenever I wanted. But when I went on that date...no matter how much the girl threw herself at me, I knew I could have had anything I wanted with her.” Katara rolled her eyes at that statement.

“I just...couldn’t. The whole time I was thinking about Y/N and what she said to me, how it was over and why it was over, I knew I fucked up the second I asked her out.” Zuko finished. “When did you fall for her?”

It was five months into your fling. You and Zuko were tangled up in each other in her tent. You were just talking about their old lives in the Fire Nation and if they’d even be like this with each other if they both have never left. He laughed at how he would still be trying to prove his honor to Ozai and how you would probably be part of Azula’s crew with Mai and Ty Lee. Both were slowly drifting to sleep until you popped your head up and looked at him. “Zuko?”

“Hmm.”

“Your mother would be proud of you...you know, with the choices you made.” You went back to sleep but had no idea Zuko lay awake all night thinking about you said.

“AW! That’s so cute!” Katara exclaimed, “Alright, alright!” Zuko rolled his eyes. “So, what do I do?”

“You have to figure that out for yourself, lover boy.” Zuko winced at that name as he watched Katara walk away.

The moon was beautiful that night. You and Han talked about your lives with you lying about some aspects of course, but it was nice to talk to someone who had no idea who you were and was genuinely interested in you.

“I’m really happy you came tonight, you should come to Ember Island more often.”

“I’m happy I came too.” You smiled. Han was looking down at you and he started to lean in closer. You knew he was going in for a kiss but you weren’t sure if you wanted to. Your huge fight with Zuko was just the day before and at the moment, you couldn’t imagine kissing anyone else. But before you could decide on what to do, you saw a fist fly to Han’s face and he fell to the floor. Zuko.

“ZUKO!” You shouted but Zuko ignored you. Han stood up and glared at him. “What the fuck man!”

“Stay away from her.” Zuko warned but Han didn’t back down, he threw a punch at Zuko but he ducked. Han grabbed on to Zuko’s shoulders then tossed him inside the party, which caused everyone to stare.

“Stop it!” You yelled as you followed them inside. Zuko got up then speared Han unto the table. He was about to hit him once more but you stood in between him and Han.

“Y/N move.” Zuko said through gritted teeth, but you stood your ground. “No.”

“H-hey, what’s going on?” Aang asked nervously as the rest of the gang stood behind him in shock. The other party goers didn’t know what to do as well. You looked around and noticed everyone staring at you. Zuko was still glaring at Han as he struggled to get up. “What’s wrong with you?” you stormed out the front door with every intention to head back. “Y/N, wait!” Zuko ran after you.

“What’s going on?” Toph asked the rest of the gang. “Beats me...”Aang took a bite from the apple he was eating. “No idea but, let’s go see!” Sokka began to follow you guys but Suki pulled him back. “HEY!”

You were trying to get home as fast as you could. This whole night was a disaster and you just wanted to be left alone. “Y/N!” a familiar voice called but you continued walking. “Hey!”

“Y/N will you please—“

“WHAT!” you shot around at him and he froze in his steps. “I just need to talk—“

“NO! what is the matter with you?! Starting a fight?! Really?!”

“W-well if you weren’t trying to make me jealous nothing wouldn’t have happened!” Zuko shouted as he walked closer to you. “Make you jealous? I wasn’t trying to make you jealous!”

“Then what were you doing with that bonehead?!”

“I was having a conversation. Not everything is about you, Prince Zuko.” You rolled your eyes then continued on your way. “But you were about to kiss him. I saw YOU!” he shouted and ran to catch up with your pace.

“Stop following me, Zuko.”

“No.”

You bended fire at his feet and he jumped. “Hey!” you continued walking but he was right behind you. “Zuko, leave me ALONE!”

“No.” you stopped and turned to him then he stopped as well.

“You had no right to hit him!”

“I don’t care.” You continued on your way home but he continued to follow you. “You can’t just hit people for no reason!”

“I had a reason.”

“And what was that?!” you rolled your eyes but refused to face him.

“You were about to kiss him.”

“So what if I was?!” you raised your hands in defeat, if you kissed him or not it shouldn’t even matter. He stayed silent but continued to watch you with those piercing eyes of his. “Whether I kissed him or not, it has nothing to do with you, Zuko.”

You tried to leave again but heard a loud noise. “AGH!” Zuko shot fire at a nearby tree, which caused you to stop.

“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU ZUKO!” You were in his face and he was breathing heavily with his eyes locked on yours. He paused then grabbed your face then crashed his lips onto yours. You gave in a little but then quickly pulled away.

“No, you can’t do that to me.” You backed away then ran back to house.

As soon as you arrived you ran to your shared room with Toph and Katara then slammed the door. You forgot to lock it but as you were about to, Zuko was standing at the doorway.

“Zuko, will you please leave me alone!”

“NO!”

“What do you want from me, Zuko?!” You yelled at him. You felt so many emotions in the last two days from anger, sadness, jealousy, defeat...and all because of him.

“You. I want you.” He said, and for the first time he wasn’t yelling and his voice was calm.

Before you could speak, Zuko continued.

“Look, I-I know it doesn’t seem like...I care...about anything really...but...” he paused and you stared at him. “I do care about some things..I-mean—“

“Zuko, you don’t have to—“

“No. You need to hear this.” His voice was suddenly serious and he was staring at you with so much intensity you couldn’t speak.

“I know we both started this thing as a distraction from what’s going on. Escaping from our pasts in the Fire Nation and what might come next with this war. But...along the way...I started...to feel things towards you that I know I shouldn’t and I thought I could control it while we were together I mean...not together like that but...yeah.” he started blushing and wasn’t looking at you anymore. He was nervous and knew it. You suddenly felt your heart warm up to him but you composed yourself once more.

“I thought I could control it, but the more time we spent together, it just got harder. Then that stupid date happened...I never should have asked her out. I know it’s not an excuse but...I just got scared. I mean, hearing you talk about how it’s never gonna work out, how this is just temporary really freaked me out, so I went out with her to try to prove myself that my feelings for you were nothing but...the whole time, I just thought about you...and I instantly regretted it. So I’m sorry for asking her out...I’m sorry—“

“You didn’t do anything wrong with that we aren’t—“

“I’m sorry for acting like I could just take you whenever I wanted. I’m sorry for disrespecting you.” He finished and you knew he meant it with the way he looked at you.”

“Zuko...it’s alright.” He sighed in relief and started to smile. “I think these things had to happen to show us that our time was up. We were going too far with each other and we were just going to get hurt, I mean look at us now, look what happened tonight. We’re not good for each other, and the team might suffer for it later on.” His face dropped when you finished. You could tell he expected another answer from you.

“How can you say that?”

“Zuko, all we do is fight! We argue about everything, we hurt each other and we’re hurting the team with our bickering and disagreements! What kept us going was the physical stuff...and if we don’t have that—“

“Look me in the eyes and tell me it was all physical for you.” He was staring deep into your eyes and you paused. Why couldn’t you just say it? A few words and this could all be over. No more fights, no more drama, nothing. You and Zuko would be nothing.

“Z-Zuko I—“

“You can’t say it because you don’t mean it.” he stated and you stepped back from him. “It’s more complicated than that, you know it!” You turned away from him. “How is it complicated? Yes we do fight, so what? That’s not an enough reason for me.”

“It is for me.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“It doesn’t matter!” You tried to leave the room.

“NO! Tell me what’s so complicated!” Zuko was holding your arm so you couldn’t leave. You bit your lip trying to stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks. “We don’t know what’s going to happen after this war. If I...if you...if something happens, and you know there’s a possibility that one of us...or both of us...” you stopped, you’ve lost your family already, you had no idea where they were, they could be dead, you couldn’t lose someone close to you again. Zuko loosened his grip on your arm, understanding what you were saying. “I’ve lost my family—“

“You don’t know what.”

“I do...and if I lose another person close to me again...”

“I won’t let that happen.” He whispered and you turned to face him. “Zuko, it’s just...I already felt losing you once over this whole thing...I’m not going to do that again and not just because of what the future holds but...how are we sure of any decisions we’re making now? I mean look at us!” Zuko stepped back and just watched you.

“You left your life in the Fire Nation twice and made two different decisions after each time. I didn’t want to leave when my father was banished, then ended up following him to only leave a week later because I felt like I could do more than hide. We’re erratic and unsure of everything, we can hardly make decisions on our own, what more commit? And the fact that there wasn’t even an “us” to begin with?” you sighed but Zuko seemed unbothered by your statement.

“Y/N...I may be unsure about a lot of things. I always think about how...if I’m making the right decisions not only for me but for the Fire Nation. I’m unsure about if this is the path Uncle Iroh wanted for me, if I’m teaching Aang the right skills. I’m unsure about the future because if my father wins, would this all be for nothing. I’m unsure about a lot of things Y/N, but the one thing I’m sure about in this whole fucked up situation is that I love you.” Your eyes widened in shock and his did too. You stared at each other for a couple of seconds, both of you unable to move.

“You don’t need to say it back, I’ve told you everything. I just had to let you know.” He whispered and with that he was gone.

You stood there motionless in the room. Zuko just said he loved you. The same Zuko that drove you crazy, that made snarky comments about your bending, that tested you till you’ve reached your limits. But it was the same Zuko that would hold you at night when you had nightmares, who reassured you whenever you worried about your family’s safety, Who would make sure you were safe whenever you were on a mission, who would secretly hold your hand when you were flying on on Appa because only he knew that heights made you nervous, the same Zuko who just told you he loved you, and you let him walk away.

You broke out of your trance then rushed to his room. You barged in but he was nowhere to be found. Suddenly, you saw a figure on the terrace looking out at the ocean. You walked outside and saw Zuko facing out with his arms spread across the balcony. His muscles looked tense and his head hung low. Walking towards him, you could feel your heart beat outside of your chest. You’ve been around Zuko a hundred times but this felt different.

You slowly wrapped your arms around his waist has you felt his body jump at your touch then relax. Leaning your chin on his shoulder and pressing your face against his, “I love you, Zuko.” You whispered and you could feel the smile on his face. Zuko turned around to face you and wrapped his arms around your waist. He looked down at you and you knew he was going to kiss you.

“Wait, I’m not Han, just making sure—“

“Zuko!” you slapped his arm then he laughed. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” You rolled your eyes and it felt like old times again.

“I love you, and I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.” Zuko whispered and then he finally kissed you.

[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS Para-Selene Vol.5 Sakamaki Laito [Track 4]

Original title: 信じられるもの

Source: Diabolik Lovers Para-Selene Vol. 5 Sakamaki Laito [CD not owned by me]

Audio: Here (37:53~53:32)

Seiyuu: Hirakawa Daisuke

Translator’s note: Laito talking about his true feelings for the MC is honestly A+ content. As much as his HDB route disturbs me and the whole ‘nfu~’ thing doesn’t do it for me either, I have to admit that Laito is probably the most complex and interesting character of the franchise. (Or at least in the top 3) because the plot of his CDs is always so good. I had high hopes for this one since the Para-Selene series is generally very good and thank god Rejet did not disappoint me. uwu 

Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

Track 4: What I can Believe

*Rustle*

“Nn...Mmh...Where am I...?”

 You look around, asking if he recognizes the room.

“...Haah...It’s the guest room. At a certain castle in the Demon World.”

You tilt your head to the side.

“Right, I guess you don’t know. The words you spoke to me here...What I wished for... ーー And how I was changed forever.”

*Rustle*

“You can’t recall, you can? Even though this most definitely would count as an impactful memory. I guess my existence is only worth that much to you, huh? ...Just kidding. I suppose I’m in no position to say that as the guy who was just messing around up till now. First I was pushed around by your memories, and now my own memories are doing the exact same. Laughable, isn’t it? I feel like a clown.”

You frown.

“Say...The Paraselene Syndrome can be...cured, right?”

You ask him what the Syndrome is specifically about.

“A disease caused by the Paraselene also going by the name ‘Paraselene Syndrome’. It’s the name of the illness you’ve been infected with. As far as I know, those infected lose their memories during the time the paraselene is out. These lost memories turn into hallucinations, affecting anyone who happens to be near, locking them into an illusionary world. Therefore, the illusions will end once the person regains their memories. However...I forgot one important detail. What if...they don’t remember? 

Laito takes a seat on the bed.

*Thud*

“Haah...Nobody ever told me that is impossible. You might forget about our time spent together forever. As we are stuck reinacting past memories for eternity. Hilarious. I was out here getting sidetracked by the pleasure in front of my eyes, without realizing just how dangerous this situation we’re in really is. Even though that isn’t the kind of fun I’m looking for.”

You sit down next to him.

“Fufu...What’s gotten into you? Taking a seat next to me like that. Are you feeling pity towards me, perhaps?”

You express your worry.

“Pfft...Fufu...Fufufu...I can’t understand that. Why would you be worried about me? To your current self, shouldn’t I be someone you’d wish to avoid at all costs? Because unlike you, I do remember everything. How much you disliked me when we first met, for example. Hmph. Yet, in the end, you found yourself caught in my grip as I slowly but surely worked my way into your heart. (1) ...Hilarious, don’t you think? It truly is laughable. ...At one point, you’d even start saying you ‘love’ me and I tooーー ...I finally realized that I felt the same towards you.”

You listen carefully.

“But the person I love isn’t the one you are right now...It has to be my Bitch-chan...”

You tell him you’ll try your best to remember.

“Hmm? Are memories really something you regain through effort alone? Although if you claim you’re willing to remember for my sake...”

*Rustle*

“...You’d still cooperate with me, even if I were to try and kill you, right?”

Your eyes widen in fear as he pins you down.

*Thud*

“...An intense experience. Those can become the trigger to regaining your memories. Do you know what that means? That your memories are more likely to come back, if I treat you horribly. Can you truly entrust yourself to me, when you’re looking at me with eyes full of fear like that?”

You nod.

“...!! Ah...Why...? That’s pure hypocricy. You’re simply pitying me.”

*Rustle*

“...Don’t get too full of yourself. You don’t even have memories, so how dare you say that!? Right now, you’re just pretending to be a Saint! The moment your life is in true danger, those sweet words will most definitely turn ugly and rotten.”

*Rustle*

“You’ve got such a pretty neck. I’d probably have no trouble squeezing it shut. Like this...”

Laito starts strangling you.

“...You poor little thing~ Gasping for air~ Is it suffocating?”

*Rustle rustle*

“Fufu...Fufufu...I don’t intend to kill you or anything. I’m only waiting for you to reveal your shameful true nature. Aaah~ You seem to be suffering.”

*Rustle*

“Woah there...~ That was close. You can’t faint on me now, can you? ...Fufu~”

You take a deep breath.

“Exactly...You should use this opportunity to take in as much air as you can. Because soon enough...You won’t be able to breathe again once more.”

Laito kisses you deeply.

*Smooch*

“Ahn...Mmh...”

*Smooch*

“...Fufu~ The inside of your mouth is completely dry. Should I moisten it up with your blood? It feels good to get sucked from your tongue, you know? Haahn...”

He bites your tongue.

*Sluuuuurp*

“Mmh...Hah...! Haah...Ah...It tastes delicious, mixed in with your saliva. Aahn...”

*Gulp*

“Mmh...”

*Gulp gulp*

“...Hah...Say...? Don’t you think it feels great to have me suck your blood while you’re struggling to breathe? With your consciousness growing faint, doesn’t it feel like the pleasure is slowly travelling through your entire body?”

*Rustle*

“Look at you slouching...~ You’re not throwing in the towel already,are you? I mean...You were going to regain your memories because you just felt so bad for me, no? In that case, you have to go all the way. ...Or do you want to run away after all?”

You shake your head.

“...I wonder why you’re this stubborn. I don’t exist within your memories. And your body is shaking like a leaf. I can’t imagine you would do this out of any other reason but hypocricy. ...Or were you simply left unsatisfied by this? In that case, savor it with all your might. The pleasure I give you, that is. Well then...I suppose I should suck from your chest next...~?”

*RIIIIIIP*

“Ah-aaah...Look at that expression of yours. How shameless. ...Say, why don’t you try fighting back like before? Come on. Hurry!”

You refuse.　

“Kuh...! Why...are you trying to accept me? Not a single one of your memories have returned, so why are you pretending as if you know me!?”

You explain that his situation hurts you emotionally. 

“Why are you experiencing heartache over this? There’s no reason for you to be suffering...The one who is hurting...is me! ...Exactly. It hurts. Very much so...I want you to love me from the bottom of your heart...”

You suddenly embrace him.

*Rustle*

“...Ah! ...Bitch-chan...? Are you sure it’s safe to do this...? You can’t guarantee what I’ll do when you embrace me like this, right?”

You tell him you want to trust him and learn to love him once more.

“...!! Those are...some very dangerous words to speak right now. (2) ...You’re going to make me believe that you will accept me for who I am, with or without your memories. Say...Can I believe in you? Will you truly...love me?”

You nod.

“Ah...I feel the same.”

He returns the hug.

*Rustle*

“Bitch-chan...You truly are a strange girl. You are probably the only one...who can rouse my emotions this much.”

*Smooch*

“...Does your neck hurt? ...I’m sorry. I grabbed it too tightly. Will you let me make it up to you...? I’ll blow your mind with pleasure...Haahn...Mmh...”

Laito bites you once more.

*Gulp gulp gulp*

“...Ah~...”

*Sluuuuurp*

“Starting to feel better? I’m sucking you gently after all. ...Nfu~ You’re making a cute expression. ...You like it when I drink your blood from here, don’t you? Mmh...”

*Rustle*

*Gulp*

“Ah...Nfu~ I knew it. I can tell just how good it feels for you from the slightest twitch of your fingers, you see? That proves just how many times we’ve repeated his action. Mmh...”

*Gulp gulp gulp*

“Bitch-chan...Hold my hand...”

You hold his hand.

“I’ll pour my heart and soul into you. So...Give me your feelings too?”

You agree.

“Mmh...Thank you...”

*Gulp gulp gulp*

*BZZZZZZZZZZZ*

*WOOSH*

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー 

Translation notes

(1) Literally he says that she slowly had her heart melted by him.

(2) Laito uses the term 殺し文句 or ‘koroshi-monku’ which is a ‘clincher’ or a ‘pick-up line’ in English.

[meaningofmotorsport]

Mid-Week Motorsport Headlines - 1st December 2021

F1

In the past week we have received the tragic news that at the age of 79, Frank Williams has passed away. A true icon of the sport, Frank embodied everything great about an independent F1 team owner, and had absolute dedication to the sport he loved. He was kind too, and had time for everyone in the paddock, which is what made him so well loved by all. Plus, he did all of this whilst fighting the horrible injuries he endured in the 80s, which made him even more well respected. There will never be another Frank, and we are all lucky to have seen him at work, I wish his family and friends the best at this time.

Norris is moving to Monaco, to join the majority of the F1 drivers, in the home of the rich and famous. He has not shied away from the reasons for going there, admitting he has to look after his future in terms of income, so we can at least respect his honesty in that regard. As much as I would like the Brits to live in the UK, like Lando had done, it won’t change how I view him, and I hope everyone else feels the same.

IndyCar

McLaren have completed the purchase of a majority stake of Arrow McLaren SP, which is a good sign of their intent for the future. Sam Schmidt and Ric Peterson will still have some say in the running of the team, as they will be on a five person board which runs their operations, along with 3 McLaren appointed advisors. With a possible expansion to 3 full time cars, and O’Ward’s near title run, they could soon become another powerhouse team in IndyCar.

Formula E

After 2 days of testing, there are no clear indications of who could be on top when the season starts next year. Frijns topped the first session, whilst Evans was fastest in the simulation of qualifying, Da Costa was fastest on the second morning, before De Vries won the race simulation and Vandoorne had the fastest time of the day. What I would take from that is that the drivers and teams who were quick last year, will likely be in similar positions for 2022.

There have been teasers for the Gen3 car, which is set to come in for the 2022-23 season. The car looks just as radical as the Gen2 car, which is a good sign. The car is also set to hit 200mph, which would be huge in terms of the potential tracks they could go to. They will likely still lack downforce compared to F1, but that will surely just increase the entertainment value if they are struggling to control these new beasts!

MotoGP

There will be an 8-part docuseries on Amazon Prime, documenting the events of the 2021 MotoGP season. Clearly inspired by the success of Drive to Survive, Dorna Sports, who own the series, wants to also appeal to a more casual audience, through the dramatization that a TV series can bring. If they pitch the series right, and make it enjoyable for all, there is no reason why it can’t work, as MotoGP has just as much action as F1.

-M

[unholyhelbig]

Hosie where Hope finds out that Josie is dealing... Oregano?

A/N: I wish I had some oregano to get me through this quarantine... 

Title: Searching for a Deal 

Ship: Hope Mikaelson/ Josie Saltzman 

Request prompts here | Read on AO3 

Magic had a scent to it that reminded Hope of home. She could never pinpoint the exact smell, it was more of a feeling than anything, a memory that pulled at the very back edges of her mind until it felt familiar.

Her aunt carried a dark mahogany box; its wood was soft and finished and hot like sage. And that’s exactly what magic reminded her of. Of course, she kept weed in that box and hid it behind the books she knew her family wouldn’t reach for. But not everyone was as cunning as Rebekah. Hope was.

She would reach her hands past the spell books, feeling that cold energy along the way, and pull out the box. It didn’t take much convincing to get one of the witches in the quarter to teach her how to roll the paper around the herb, she would sit on top of the toilet in her bathroom near the small window and blow the smoke through there. Hope probably inhaled more off-brand air freshener than the actual weed.

There were parties at the Boarding School, kids who had a handle on where to get drugs, but part of her always felt horrible about drawing smoke into her lungs and passing it back to the person who had paid for it. She was used to doing things herself, and she had gotten to the itchy point in time where she wanted it on her own.

She couldn’t call her Aunt Rebekah, she had gotten away with too much as a young teenager and she was nice enough not to say anything. And going into Mystic Falls to con Maya out of her supply wasn’t an option either. She needed to find a hook-up within the walls of the school.

Hope tried Lizzie first.

“Oh come on,” she whispered harshly, sandwiched between romance novels and a shelf of non-fiction Norse magic. The blonde let her eyes flick from the finely printed spines to Hope before going back to her task. “I know you have some.”

“And what makes you think I do?”

Hope shrugged and tested her luck “There’s no way in hell that therapy is the only thing that has mellowed you out this much, Lizzie. Just give me a name.”

The blonde blinked slowly at her, fingers running against the nearest textbook. She swiped it from the metal shelf and piled it on top of the other one in her arms before letting out a small breath. “Even if I was about to tell you, which I’m not, insulting me isn’t the way to get answers, Hope.”

“Then what is?” She arched a brow.

“Simple. Ask someone else.”

Hope let out a groan of frustration and the taller Saltzman twin went back to her book report. The library was mostly empty at this time of day, golden strings of light bouncing from the shelves. She wouldn’t be able to find an answer with the librarian behind the counter or the young vampire lounging in one of the leather chairs with oversized headphones.

She was agitated, and albeit, desperate.

That very desperation leads her to the gym; it was vastly different than the study. Its floors gleamed and the sound of rubber against glossed wood pounding against her already existing headache. She lingered by the doors for a few moments, watching a few of the wolves pull themselves effortlessly up the ropes.

As soon as Rafael met her gaze, she beaconed him over.

“Not a chance, Hope.” He said, breath caught in his throat. A fine layer of sweat dripped through his shirt. “Dr. Saltzman is strict about that stuff. You think I would be caught with that in my system?”

It hadn’t stopped him before, not at the same parties that Hope had gone to. He was often sitting right next to her, blunt between his teeth and smoke clouding his lungs. “Fair point, but you know who sells it?”

He stalled for a moment, clenching his jaw and glancing back at his teammates. “No. But I know who might.”

Penelope Park.

Hope was growing exhausted of this game of telephone, and even more wary of rushing around the Salvatore school. It wouldn’t be hard to track down Satan herself, she stuck to the dark corners of the school and often camped out under the bleachers, letting the coolness of her perch soak through her jeans as she breathed in the sharp smoke. She reeked of it, and Hope lingered at the entrance. She kicked a metallic can of off-brand beer to get the woman’s attention.

Two other witches lingered, one with his arms stretched above his head, he clung to the bars like a vice and narrowed his glowing eyes at her. The other witch grabbed the rolled paper that Penelope jutted out to her. Hope despised the smug look on her face and the sloppy grin that followed.

“You have a moment?” Hope asked, shoving her hands into her pockets.

Penelope stood from the cinderblock with little hesitation. With the nod of her head, the blunt was handed back to her and the two witches exited from their position at her flanks. They never took their eyes away from her. Hope hated being alone with Penelope.

“You want a hit?” Penelope asked, stretching out her hand.

Yes, she did, more than anything. She nodded and took the rolled cigarette before taking a deep breath in. The toxic taste coated her lungs and instantly made the tension release from her shoulders. “Thanks. I actually… Raf said that you know where to get this?”

“mm, try in town.” She grabbed the blunt back and then dropped it into the wet soil, using the tip of her toe to ground it into nothing. “The humans at Mystic High thrive on it.”

Hope shook her head “I know someone here supplies it. Just not who.”

Penelope laughed and she hated the sound of it. It was something that mocked her and kept her up on certain nights when she was forced into the same social situations as the girl, which wasn’t often. It made Hope cross her arms over her chest defensively.

“Relax, dude. I just think it’s funny that you’re just now hunting this kind of thing down. Even funnier that you have no clue who sells it. It pays to have friends around here, you know?”

Hope glared at her. “I just need a name, Park.”

“Fine, fine.” She shrugged her shoulders in defeat “Josie.”

She wanted to tell Penelope Park to crawl back into whatever hole she had dug herself last. To lay down and cover herself in dirt because there was no way in hell she had spent this long talking to the girl for a bullshit answer like that one. Josie Saltzman. Yeah right.

Penelope must have read the expression on her face. “You asked for a name, Red. I gave you one. She doesn’t’ sell the best stuff, but it’s high quality for Mystic Falls. And even better, you don’t have to travel into town for it.”

Hope waved her off and walked out from under the bleachers, back into the sunlight. She was instantly washed with an easier scent of freshly mowed grass and off-brand sports drink. Maybe she would find Josie, because if Penelope lied, at least it was about Josie. Soft lipped and kind-hearted Josie. She might get scoffed at, but that was the extent.

She found the girl in her dorm room, the door cracked open as she drew little swirls in her notebook.  Ukulele was on her right side. She had been scrawling notes and lyrics but took a creative break, it seemed. The girl glanced up with a stunningly potent stare, setting everything aside as the tribrid knocked sheepishly on the doorframe.

“Can we talk?” Hope had asked, and she knew the answer before she even parted her lips. Josie had a certain vulnerability to her eyes that spelled everything out. Of course, they could talk. Hope could speak for hours without a breath and Josie would listen.

Josie scooted over at the base of her bed and patted the spot on the carpet with a slight nod. Hope was feeling the few breaths she pulled in under the bleachers, the taste still thick on her tongue. Her mouth was dry and she would kill for one sip of water, but this seemed like the most important place to be right now.

“I’ve been asking around the school,” She started. Josie nodded, her slight curls bouncing “and Penelope Park of all people told me that I could… buy something off of you?”

“Like what?”

Josie got this adorable little crinkle in her nose when she was miffed, or when she was lying. Hope never noticed it at first, but she did after once too many dinners with the family. Josie didn’t like lemon and she didn’t like fish either but she would eat it if they were in a fancy enough restaurant because that was the polite thing to do. Her nose crinkled now.

“weed Jo. I’ve been searching through this entire school, and so help me God if Penelope is fucking with me,” She stilled and sighed “I’m stressed. I need something.”

“I don’t even smoke weed.”

“Christ,”

Hope pinched the bridge of her nose, because she knew this meant having to go into town. She didn’t like Lizzie Saltzman much, but she disliked Dana even more. All the townies had something against each and every one of them, and she wasn’t prepared to drop a good amount of money on something so small.

Josie shifted as she turned towards the bed and pressed her shoulder against the floor. She was reaching blindly under her bed for something, letting out little grunts of exasperation. She said something, but it was muffled by the carpet. Finally, she pulled a small mahogany box from the darkness.

“I asked if you could close the door,” Josie emerged, breathless.

Hope just nodded dumbly and got to her feet before following the order. She remained there, her back against the mahogany as she rose both of her eyebrows. Josie hummed in gratitude before unlatching the container.

“I hide it in my sage because people like you can’t smell it otherwise.”

“I thought you said you didn’t’ smoke.”

“Oh I don’t, but I can recognize a good business venture when I see one. There’s not a dealer within fifty miles of this place. Simply no competition so my margins are great.” She stopped rooting around and pulled out a little baggie, a portioned clump of browns and greens.

“I never would have figured.” Hope laughed.

“That’s kind of the point,” Josie beamed “First ones free.”  

[sheliesshattered]

This Isn’t A Ghost Story - Chapter 4

Whouffaldi non-canon AU. 8 chapters, will be about 32,000 words when complete. Rated Mature for heavier themes, including in this chapter, please contact me privately if you’re worried about triggering topics. Clara Oswald/Twelfth Doctor. Mystery, pining and angst with a happy ending. Available on AO3 under the same username and title. Updates every Friday.

This Isn’t A Ghost Story

Chapter 4: The Past

By the time she arrived at the house, Clara’s hands were shaking so badly, it took her three tries to unlock the front door. Her tears hadn’t stopped the entire drive over, and in the two a.m. darkness her sniffling sounded loud in her own ears.

Finally managing to fit the key into the lock, she let herself into the foyer and closed the door behind her. She dropped her keys and purse on the table, but couldn’t make her fingers uncurl from the crumpled coroner’s report still clutched in her other hand. The house was silent, dimly lit by a lamp in the parlour and another at the top of the stairs, and for a moment she was seized by a sense of déjà vu so strong it was nearly vertigo. It had only been a few hours since she’d gone home for the evening, but it felt like she’d been away for far longer than that. She needed her ghost, she needed to talk to him after all that she’d read, she needed—

“Clara?” came his voice before she could call out to him, and she felt her breath leave her in a rush. She had never been so grateful to hear his familiar voice, and she looked up at him, finding him standing at the top of the stairs. “What are you doing here?” he went on, sounding concerned, as he descended the staircase towards her. “It’s the middle of the night.”

“I— I had to see you,” she said, her voice shaking almost as badly as her hands, and she swiped roughly at the wetness on her cheeks. “I couldn’t wait ‘til the morning.”

His steps quickened, and he didn’t stop until he was barely an arm’s length from her, seeming reassuringly solid and real in the dim light. “What’s wrong?” he asked, searching her face. “What’s happened?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” she told him, stumbling over her words as her tears continued to fall, “and the box was— I had to know. I read her journal, I couldn’t stop myself. You were trying to protect me, and I just—” She cut herself off, shaking her head, trying to sort through her jumbled thoughts. “The twenty-third of November,” she forced out, looking up at him.

His expression shuttered. “What about it?” he asked warily.

“I was born on the twenty-third of November, 1986.”

“Clara, I am aware of your birthdate,” he said evenly.

She held up the crumpled paper in her hand. “Twenty-third of November, 1928. That’s the day she, the day my great-grandmother—”

“Yes,” he interrupted her.

“I was born fifty-eight years to the day—”

“Yes,” he said again, even more forcefully. “And? What is it exactly that you’re asking?”

She stared at him, grasping for the words as tears slipped down her cheeks. “Why?” she finally said. “Why would she do that to herself? Why would she leave her three month old child like that?”

He studied her face for a long moment. “I think you know why, my Clara,” he said softly.

“I don’t,” she shook her head, tears thick in her voice. “I’m trying to understand. I tried the entire drive over here, but I don’t— Why?”

He looked away, chewed at his lip. “You asked me once, when you were about eight years old, when it was that I died. Do you remember that?”

Clara nodded. “1927. You wouldn’t tell me the date, but you said it was in 1927.”

“I couldn’t very well tell you,” he said slowly, “at eight years old, that I died on your birthday in 1927.”

Realisation dawned. “She killed herself on the anniversary of your death.”

“Yes,” he said quietly, barely a breath.

“But... why?”

He looked at her in confusion, eyes glinting a silvery blue in the lamplight. “Why?”

“You said— you said you talked to her, after you died. Like we talk now. And in her journal she said— She hadn’t really lost you, so why would she—”

“I had stopped talking to her, stopped appearing to her,” he cut her off, voice soft. “Shortly before Margot was born. I wanted her to move on, even if I couldn’t. To live her life in the land of the living. I thought I was... a distraction from that. I worried if anyone found out that she was talking to her dead husband, that it would cost her everything, that she would end up in some sort of institution. Instead, I—” He stopped, swallowed harshly. “I was the one who cost her everything. By deciding I knew what was best. By ignoring her. By not protecting her like I should have done.”

She stared at him, tears still tracking down her face. “This is what you didn’t want me to know.”

“Clara...” He closed his eyes briefly, expression pained.

“You thought I wouldn’t be able to forgive you for it. That it would change the way I see you.”

He hesitated. “I didn’t want you to know about this, no.”

“...But?” she prompted, feeling like there was more he wasn’t saying.

His gaze found hers again. “What am I supposed to do, Clara? Which mistake should I repeat? Not protecting you? Or deciding that I know best?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, shaking his head. “You found out this much, you won’t stop digging until you’ve found every horrible thing there is to find. And I don’t know what that will do to you. I can’t protect you from yourself. I’m not sure I ever could. All I can do is be here to try to pick up the pieces.”

She studied his ageless face, so very dear to her. “Then promise me one thing,” she found herself saying.

He huffed out a humourless laugh. “Just the one thing?”

“Promise me you won’t ever ignore me like that.” She had to swallow down the inexplicable again that tried to append itself to the end of that sentence. “Promise me that you will never stop talking to me.”

“Clara—”

“If you love me—” The words caught in her throat and she stopped. It was an unspoken line never before crossed, a word never before spoken between them, and she quickly added, “—in any way, you’ll stay.”

One corner of his mouth curled up in a sad smile. “So long as it’s my power to stay, I don’t think I will ever be able to leave you, my Clara.”

“Good,” she said, her tears making her voice crack. “I refuse to lose you. I won’t allow it.”

“Five-foot-one and crying,” he said fondly. “I never stood a chance.” He reached up and brushed away a tear as it rolled down her cheek, his long fingers steady and just slightly cool against her skin.

Clara stared at him in shock, trying to fit this newest revelation into her over-full mind. “You’re... rather solid,” she said, more eloquent words failing her.

“Always am, this time of the night,” he replied, eyebrows drawing together. “It’s the lack of sunlight. I thought you knew that.”

“I’m never here this late,” she reminded him, shaking her head. Seized with a sudden realisation and an urge she couldn’t deny, she took a step forward and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

Her ghost went rigid beneath her touch, only slowly relaxing. “Clara,” he breathed against her hair, seeming to remember what to do with his arms. He held her carefully, like he thought she might shatter, but the substantial realness of him was better than anything she could have hoped for. “My Clara.”

“You cannot imagine how long I’ve wanted to do this,” she said into his shoulder.

“I have some idea,” he replied, drawing her closer.

Clara clung to him, unwilling to let the moment end. She had thought about hugging her ghost so often over the years, but the reality of being held by him far outpaced even her best dreams. It was exactly the sort of comfort she needed after all the discoveries of the day, and gradually her tears stopped.

“I don’t think you should drive home tonight,” he said quietly, gently pulling away from her. “You’re upset, and it’s late. Sleep here, go home in the morning.”

She stepped back and nodded, but said, “I don’t know if I can sleep. It’s all still clattering around my mind, everything I read.”

He carefully prised the paper from her hand, smoothed it out and read it. “Coroner’s report,” he said grimly. “As though the journal wasn’t bad enough.”

She hesitated, then asked, “You’ve read the journal?”

“Only the final entry. But I was there for most of the rest of it. Come on,” he said, clearly changing the subject, as he folded the paper and tucked it away in his trouser pocket. “There’s still some chamomile tea in one of the decorative tins in the kitchen. Maybe a cup will help you sleep.”

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re just trying to distract me?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Because I am,” he said dryly, then turned and led the way down the hall. Sighing, Clara followed after him.

She sat at the table and watched him move around the kitchen, confidently pulling items from drawers and cupboards as he prepared the loose-leaf tea. It was still strange to think of this as his house, as the house he had bought with his wife, where they had hoped to build a future together. And tragic, too, given the way things had turned out. Based on the dates in her great-grandmother’s journal, they had lived here for just over two years before his death, between the summer of 1925 and the autumn of 1927.

“Were you happy?” Clara asked into the comfortable silence.

Her ghost glanced over at her from his position near the stove, eyebrows raised in question.

“When you lived here with my great-grandmother,” she clarified. “Were you happy, together in this house?”

He brought her the cup of steaming tea and sat down across from her before he answered. “We were very happy,” he said softly, staring at his hands folded on the tabletop. “And very much in love.”

Clara’s heart clenched in her chest, and she didn’t reply until she was certain of the strength of her voice. “I’m sorry it didn’t end well,” she said, feeling like the words were horribly inadequate. “That you didn’t get more time together. You deserve to be happy.”

He looked up at her across the width of the table, his familiar face ageless and ancient. “Things end,” he said gently. “That’s all. Everything ends, and it’s always sad. But everything begins again too, and that’s always happy.”

“And have you been happy?” she asked before she could stop herself. “In the years I’ve known you?”

His gaze searched her face for a long moment before he said, “Very happy, my Clara. As much as a dead man can be. Now, drink your tea. It’s a few hours yet before dawn, and you should try to sleep.”

She decided not to argue with him, starting to feel fatigue pull at her now that the adrenaline of her discovery had passed. “You told me as a child that I shouldn’t stay the night here,” she said between sips of warm chamomile tea. “Why?”

He looked away and was quiet for so long that she began to wonder if he would answer at all. “You never slept well here, when you were small,” he finally said. “You would wake up crying, even screaming sometimes. Ellie seemed to think it was just being away from home, but I always worried it was this house specifically, something about it that you knew even before you were old enough to talk.”

“Well, it certainly wasn’t you.”

“What?” he asked, meeting her gaze, eyebrows drawing together.

Clara shrugged though a sip of tea. “Gran’s house is haunted. That’s the sort of thing that might scare some kids. Most, probably. But you’ve never scared me.”

“Well, that’s a relief.”

“I mean it,” she said, smiling at him over the rim of her cup. “If ghosts are meant to be scary, you’ve failed utterly.”

“Glad to hear it,” he said dryly, then after a moment added more seriously, “I’ll stay with you tonight, if you want. So you’ll know you’re safe. Hopefully I’m wrong, and you’ll sleep fine, but just in case.”

That longing for what could have been that she’d felt when looking at the wedding photo bubbled up again, but she shoved it away. He was her ghost, and she was his Clara, and that would have to be enough. “I would like that,” she said softly, her eyes on her tea. “Thank you.”

She led the way upstairs a few minutes later, choosing the back bedroom where he’d played her great-grandmother’s song for her earlier, and snuggled in beneath the quilts and blankets that she had laid out on the bed in a bid to make the house look inviting to potential buyers. Her ghost lingered uncertainly nearby until she patted the space beside her, but she drifted off to sleep before he’d finished making himself comfortable on top of the coverlet.

--

Clara woke suddenly, bolting upright and gasping for breath, all of her senses on high alert in the darkened bedroom. On instinct she reached for the Doctor beside her, her fingers curling desperately around his shoulder.

“Clara?” he asked, sounding confused.

“There’s someone downstairs,” she hissed, keeping her voice low, fear gripping her.

With a sigh, he put his hand over hers and squeezed it gently. “There’s not.”

“I heard a window break!” she insisted. “Someone’s in the house—”

“Clara, Clara, listen to me,” he said, sitting up beside her and taking her hands in his. “You had a nightmare,” he went on, leaning in close and trying to catch her gaze. “Just a nightmare, yeah? Everything’s alright. Trust me, there is no one in this house but you and me.”

She blinked at him, trying to make his words fit into her consciousness in between the frantic beating of her heart. “No,” she said, shaking her head, “I’m certain I heard—”

“It’s just your mind playing tricks on you. Nothing but a bad dream,” he assured her. “It’s over now, try not to think about it.”

There it was again, a noise like a rock shattering glass, coming from downstairs. “The window,” she whispered urgently, turning towards the bedroom door.

He shifted closer to her, cupping her face in both hands, commanding her attention. “It’s not real,” he said, gently but firmly. “What you’re hearing, it’s not real, it’s not happening now. Focus on now, this moment here with me.”

Clara tried to do as he asked, but it kept slipping away into the sound of breaking glass and the certainty that there was someone else in the house with them. She stared at him, forcing her frantic mind to react, to focus only on her immediate surroundings. The quiet stillness of the bedroom, the muted blue of her ghosts’s eyes in the low light, the familiarity of his voice, the feel of his fingertips, solid and cool against her skin. This moment.

“It was just a bad dream?” she said in a small voice, still not completely convinced.

“Yes,” he replied, holding her gaze. “And it’s over now.”

“It felt so real,” Clara said, unable to quite shake the lingering unsettled feeling.

“I know,” he said, his thumbs sweeping across her cheekbones soothingly. “I know it did. It’s alright.”

“Why do I have nightmares in this house?” she asked, the words bubbling out of her as soon as the thought crossed her mind. “I’ve never slept well here, since I was a baby, you said. Why?”

“Clara,” her ghost said in a warning tone, “just leave it be.”

She wrapped her hand around his wrist before he could pull away from her. “That wasn’t the normal sort of nightmare, was it?” she said, more statement than question. “You said earlier that you worried I knew something about this house, even before I was old enough to talk. What is it? What could I possibly have known when I was that young? What did I just dream?”

“I also told you that sometimes the past is better left buried,” he said, voice low.

“And sometimes not knowing the truth is a lot scarier than the facts themselves!” she shot back.

“And sometimes it’s not!” he snapped, surprising her. He sighed and shook his head in apology. “My Clara,” he said softly, his hands still gently holding her face. “Sometimes the truth is so terrible that you’re better off not knowing. Please let me protect you from this? Just this once?”

“Oh, god,” she said in realisation, nausea rippling through her. She wasn't sure how she knew, but she knew. “I wasn’t wrong about someone breaking into the house, was I? Only, it’s not happening now.”

“Clara, please.”

“Why do I know that? How? What was that dream?” The sound of footsteps downstairs drew her attention, and she looked to the door again. “Doctor,” she whimpered, her grip on his wrist tightening as terror surged through her, “there’s someone in the house.”

“Clara, Clara,” he said, leaning close to look into her eyes. “You can’t think about it. Focus on something else. Focus on me.”

She shook her head within his unrestraining hold. “You were there, too,” she said, sounding distant in her own ears. “I heard your voice from downstairs, and then a gunshot, and—”

“Not that memory,” he said quickly. “Anything else, any other memory. Please, Clara. You have to make yourself think of something else. The church in Glasgow. Think about the church in Glasgow.”

“The church in Glasgow?” she repeated, staring at him in confusion as her mind spun chaotically and her heart thundered.

He nodded. “It had stained glass windows and dark wood pews, remember? It was small, but we still only filled the first quarter of it.”

It was just a flash, there and gone, but for a moment she could see it. “It smelled of incense,” she said, utterly certain, the knowledge welling up from some deep, long-buried corner of her mind.

“Yes, good. What else?”

“I— I don’t know.”

“Your flowers,” he prompted. “That day at the church, what colour were your flowers?”

“Blue,” she replied immediately. “My bouquet was blue and white, and the flowers in my hair were blue. How do I know that?” she demanded, looking up at him. “That wasn’t me, how do I know that?”

“You know how, my Clara. Think it through.”

She heard breaking glass again, and looked towards the door. “The window,” she choked out. “Someone’s in the house.”

“There’s no one,” her ghost insisted, cool fingertips pressed to her face to pull her attention back to him. “It’s your mind trying to relive the trauma. Don’t let it. Think about— think about Cairo. The museum, yeah? The first time you saw me. Focus on that.”

“I can’t,” she said, a sob catching in her throat. Someone was in the house, and the gunshot—

“Try, Clara, please. For me. Think about Cairo, and the museum, and say the first thing that comes into your head.”

She took a deep breath and screwed her eyes shut, trying to force herself to focus on the impossible, to forget about the sound of breaking glass and think of the Doctor instead. “The first time I saw you, you were scowling,” she said, seeing it in her mind’s eye.

“Was I?” her ghost asked, sounding almost bemused through his worry.

She nodded absently. “And then someone said something to you, and you laughed, and I thought...”

“What did you think, my Clara?” he prompted when she didn’t go on. “Stay in that moment.”

“I thought you looked— interesting. Intriguing. With your angry eyebrows and your laugh-lines. I thought ‘that is a face I would like to get to know.’”

“Good, that’s good. What else do you remember? What did we drink that night? It was a party, what did they serve?”

“Champagne,” she said without hesitation. “But I didn’t like it, it was too dry.” She opened her eyes and looked at him, his face inches from hers. “How do I know that?” she demanded.

He didn’t answer her question, but pressed on instead. “You came to Thebes, almost a week later, do you remember that? Do you remember the first moment you saw me there?”

She searched within herself for the answer and somehow, miraculously, found it. “You were at the dig site,” she murmured, wrapped up in the unfamiliar memory filling her mind, crowding out everything else. “I saw you before you saw me, and you... You just looked so beautiful standing there, I wanted everything to stop. I wanted nothing to change, ever again. But then you looked up, and you grinned when you saw me. And I thought...”

Clara stumbled to a stop, feeling like the reality of what was happening was just outside her grasp, profound and unseen, some force of nature begging to be recognised. “I thought, ‘that is the man I want to spend the rest of my life with.’ No,” she corrected herself, staring at him, that same heartbreaking longing coursing through her, identical to that remembered moment standing in the bright sunshine of Thebes. “I thought, ‘that is the man I want to spend the rest of the life of the universe with.’ I didn’t even know your name, but I knew—”

Swallowing past the tears forming in her eyes, she shook her head, words failing her. It was too much, her own emotions twisted up with the impossible images in her mind, her love for him tangled together with memories that couldn’t possibly be hers. “But that wasn’t me,” she insisted, her voice breaking, even as she wished desperately that she had been the woman who had met him in 1921. “That was her. My great-grandmother. How can I know that? How can I know any of that?”

“You know how, Clara,” he said again, gently wiping away a tear with the pad of his thumb. “Deep down, you know the truth. I think part of you has always known.”

She flickered her gaze over his familiar face, trying to understand, trying to fit the scattered pieces inside her together. In that moment, she wasn’t certain of anything — except that she loved him, and had always loved him. Her whole life, as long as she could remember, she had loved this man, her ghost. Loved him even though it was impossible, he was impossible. He would never feel that way about her, there could never be any chance of a future together. It was utterly hopeless, but that had never been enough to change the way she felt about him.

“Please, just see me,” he murmured.

Her eyes locked with his, pale blue in the dim light spilling in from the hallway. She knew every fleck of green in those eyes, every line on his face, every streak of silver in his hair, with as much certainty as she knew her feelings for him. And maybe, in the end, that was all she needed to know. Maybe it all added up to the same thing. The photos and the journal, her birthdate and that nightmare, her love for him and her longing for what might have been. There had only ever been one answer to any of it, and finally, Clara spoke aloud the only truth she could find.

“It was me,” she whispered, sure of it down to her bones. “It was me that met you in Cairo, and followed you to Thebes and to Glasgow. It’s me in those photos.”

“Yes,” he said, voice soft and emphatic. “It’s always been you. You found me again, like you promised you would.”

She stared at him, the enormity of that truth somehow not overwhelming her but completing her, the missing piece she had been searching for all her life. “I love you,” she said, the words bursting out of her, unwilling to let another moment pass before she told him. “I didn’t just realise that,” she clarified. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. But I didn’t know it was something I could say.”

Her ghost — the Doctor, the man she loved, her husband — smiled at her softly, wiping another errant tear from her face. “I have loved you for more than ninety years, my Clara. I didn’t think I would ever hear you say those words again.”

Leaning in, Clara closed the short distance between them and kissed him, her hands finding their way to his hair as he pulled her closer. It was miraculous, and ridiculous, and incredible, the solid reality of him against her. She had dreamed of this for so long, wished for it for so many years, without realising that it had always been hers to claim. Kissing him felt like coming home. She pressed closer to him, trying to remember him and memorise him all at once.

“Not that I’m complaining,” she said breathlessly when they finally parted, her forehead resting against his, “but I’m still a little unclear on the how of all this. If I’m her, then I— I died. How is any of this even possible?”

He gently kissed her eyelids and her forehead, then shifted them around so that he was leaned against the headboard and her head was resting against his chest, his arms around her. “Reincarnation is the word you’re looking for, I think,” he replied. “Rebirth. Same soul, new life.”

She mulled that over, adding it to the truths she had found inside herself. “That’s a thing that can happen?” she asked.

“Apparently. I know as much about this as you do. But it’s hard to deny the evidence in front of us.”

“So all those times I joked about us bantering like an old married couple...?”

“Well, one of us is old, anyway,” he said ruefully.

She pressed a kiss over his silent heart. “How long have you known?”

“There wasn’t a single moment,” the Doctor said, holding her close and running the backs of his fingers up and down her arm idly. “It was countless little clues, over the years. The fact that you could see me, for one thing. The way you turn your head, the way you laugh, a phrase here and there. Your kindness, and your never giving up. And your eyes, of course. The past few years you’ve started to look more and more like yourself, your previous self, but there was always something familiar about your eyes. It was only in the last decade or so that I became convinced it was really you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

She felt him shrug. “At what point, exactly, would it have been appropriate to inform you of my suspicions? By the time I was certain of it, you’d never shown any signs that you remembered, not really. Not like tonight. And I thought...”

“What?” she asked when he didn’t continue.

He hesitated, his hand stilling, and then said, barely a breath, “I thought it might be best if you never remembered. If I remained just the ghost that haunted your Gran’s house, and you went on with your life, not knowing the truth.”

“Live my life in the land of the living,” she said, repeating his earlier words. “Is that why you didn’t want me staying the night here? You thought it might trigger my memories?”

“No,” he said, taking a deep breath and sighing it out. “I didn’t want you to have nightmares like the one you just had, and the ones I suspect you had when you slept here as a baby. If that was the cost of remembering, I didn’t want you to have to pay it. Even if it meant you never remembered me.”

“That was a memory, too, wasn’t it?” she asked in a small voice, already knowing the answer. “That nightmare.”

“Clara...”

“Doctor,” she said, angling herself to look up at his face without moving away from him, “I know you’re trying to protect me, but I need to know the truth. All of it.”

“You know everything important—”

“But I don’t, do I?” she interrupted. “There are key facts I still don’t know. How you died, who my Gran’s father was, what exactly it was I just dreamed about. If you won’t tell me, you know I can find the answers on my own.”

He sighed. “I have no doubt you will.” He was quiet a moment, then said, “If I give you the basics of it, will you stop digging for the memory and let it be?”

Remembering the terror that had gripped her when she’d first woken from the nightmare, she nodded against his chest.

“Alright then,” he said quietly. “But in the morning. Some facts are too terrible for this hour of the night, and you should try to sleep again, if you can.”

“What makes you think it’ll go better this time?” Clara asked, burrowing deeper into his embrace and trying to keep her mind from straying to the memory of breaking glass. It was strange to think that when the sun rose, she would be back to not being able to touch him, but in that moment she was unspeakably grateful for the comfort of being held, secure in the arms of the man she loved.

The Doctor ran his fingers through her hair soothingly. “I could hum the song for you,” he suggested. “It seemed to help, before. Maybe it’ll help now.”

“My song,” she said, smiling against his chest.

“Yes, your song,” he agreed, and kissed the top of her head. “The song I wrote for you, my Clara.”

She drifted to sleep to the sound of that song, and didn’t wake until morning.

--

Chapter 5: The Present

[recentanimenews]

Happy Birthday, Space Cowboy: A Shinichiro Watanabe Retrospective

  Today we wish a very happy birthday to the Cowboy Bebop director, the one and only Shinichiro Watanabe! Watanabe-san has been a powerhouse in the world of anime for well over two decades, working with acclaimed studios such as Sunrise Inc., Studio Nue, and BONES. His mastery at blending Western and Eastern elements has earned Watanabe a devoted fanbase in many different countries. One of the most consistent aspects of Watanabe's catalog is his skill at successfully amalgamating a variety of genres from sci-fi to Westerns to comedy and more.

In honor of Watanabe's birthday, I'll be exploring the artistic depth of three anime from his impressive oeuvre and celebrating the very special spark that can be found in all his works. Read on for more!

Terror in Resonance (2014)

Terror in Resonance seems critically underappreciated when compared to some of Watanabe's other directorial efforts. Though it lacks the robust character development and sense of immersion found in his other titles, the series still retains many of the qualities that make Watanabe such a globally respected anime auteur.

Terror in Resonance follows two high-school-aged terrorists named Twelve and Nine as they plot a series of bombings in order to reveal the injustices enacted against them — and many other children — during a secret government operation called the Athena Plan. Along the way, a lonely girl named Lisa finds herself enwrapped in the boys' mission, and experiences camaraderie for the first time due to their presence.

The show's basic premise alone reflects Watanabe's willingness to explore uncommon thematic spaces by featuring literal terrorists as two of the main characters. Common in his other works as well, Watanabe invites viewers to feel compassion for characters who inhabit the outermost margins of societal acceptability. The show doesn't endorse Twelve and Nine's actions, but it does position them as isolated characters with real human attributes, acting coherently in retaliation to the incorrigible exploitation they faced as children. Twelve and Nine also make extreme efforts to make sure no one is killed due to their bombings, which serves as an empathetic deviation from standard depictions of terrorists as one-sided, monstrous caricatures.

Ultimately, Terror in Resonance features many trademarks of Watanabe's unique touch: compassionate explorations of loneliness, a tragic narrative interspersed with brief moments of beauty, and yet another gorgeous soundtrack by Yoko Kanno (a frequent collaborator with Watanabe).

Macross Plus (1995)

Watanabe made his directorial debut as co-director for Macross Plus working alongside Shoji Kawamori (the creator of the original Macross). This four-part OVA is the best flying mech, artifcial-intelligence-pop-music-gone-horribly-wrong redo of Top Gun I've ever seen. I remember I first saw it on the Starz Channel back in 2002 or 2003. It was fun to revisit the US dub recently with the fresh realization that Bryan Cranston — aka Walter White, our favorite fictional suburban meth dealer — did the voice acting for the main character Isamu. Isamu is like a more womanizing Spike from Cowboy Bebop, mixed with the arrogance of Mugen from Samurai Champloo, and is an early example of a recurrent protagonist-archetype in Watanabe's titles. The playful comedic qualities Watanabe would become known for were already apparent in much of Macross Plus, such as the scene when Isamu and his rival Bowman bring up old adolescent/high-school gripes while they're both engaged in an airborne mech-duel to the death.

Once again, Yoko Kanno's absolutely incredible score must be mentioned. The soundtrack ranges from orchestral music perfect for dogfights to emotional ballads and '90s trance (there's also a really cool reference to the Aphex Twin album "Selected Ambient Works 85-92" on a bus sign in one scene). Watanabe's first directorial outing already grapples with a subject near and dear to his heart: music. The last episode features an intense sequence involving an AI popstar named Sharon Apple, who takes control of everyone viewing her concert via seductive musical mind control. This scene explores a what-if scenario: an imagined future where technology meshes with the power of music for nefarious — rather than healing — ends. Either way, since Watanabe is a self-proclaimed "music freak," it's fun to watch him implement a plot device about just how disruptively powerful music can be (his most recent anime Carole and Tuesday tackles AI and pop music with a more neutral lens, as an FYI). Macross Plus is not to be missed.

Cowboy Bebop (1998)

  I'll never forget what it was like to experience Cowboy Bebop for the very first time when it initially aired on Adult Swim in 2001. I must have been 12 or 13 at the time, and few pieces of media have made such a lasting impression on me. I was already extremely impressed even after seeing the first episode "Asteroid Blues," but it's the fifth episode entitled "Ballad of Fallen Angels" — where viewers are introduced for the first time to the central antagonist Vicious — that completely sold me on the series.

"Ballad of Fallen Angels" culminates in a climactic battle that takes place in a church, with the main character Spike duking it out against Vicious and his goons. The most memorable moment for me is the scene when Spike is thrown out of the top of the church by Vicious. Spike falls in slow-motion as viewers are treated to a montage of his tragic crime syndicate past and his relationship with his lost love Julia. It's such a stunning moment that perfectly echoes the old creative writing adage "show don't tell," since it subtly expresses so much about Spike's life without explicitly battering it over your head. The scene speaks volumes in just a few wordless seconds, with no sounds to be heard at all other than Yoko Kanno's gorgeous choir and piano-based track "Green Bird." I've drifted toward arthouse movies as I've grown older, and I truly think the aforementioned scene was my first time experiencing the ineffable artfulness that I find in the experimental films that move me most. It feels a little silly and overblown to say, but the sequence feels like it contains a large spectrum of life — love, hate, sadness, memories, dreams, etc.

Cowboy Bebop is a show that abounds with moments like this. There are so many moving scenes rich in an atmospheric tenderness that aches with longing, loneliness, and beauty. Intimate scenes where characters in interstellar ships stare quietly at a sea of stars. A view of someone smoking a cigarette alone in a dimly lit alleyway. Or something like the ending of "Waltz for Venus," when a music box-esque song plays while Spike gazes into the sky as spores that can blind drift downward like snow.

I could go on and on about the series — the masterful quality of Keiko Nobumoto's screenplay, the riveting action sequences and lovable characters, the expert blend of genres coupled with breathtaking animation and music, and how Spike's somewhat Buddhist philosophy (whatever happens, happens) influenced my own. Cowboy Bebop truly deserves all the praise and is undoubtedly one of the best animated works of all time.

So here's to you Shinichiro Watanabe. I hope you have a birthday as stunning and cool as the anime you've graced the world with.

What else do you love by Shinichiro Watanabe, and why? Sounds off in the comments below!

    Do you love anime? Do you love writing? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

By: news+feed@crunchyroll.com

[sammythankyou]

Shadows On Your Side - Part One

Shadows are on your side, as soon as the lights go down In the darkest place you can find, you belong to the hands of the night 

“Shadows On Your Side” by Duran Duran

Special thank you to @ms-mead for the gorgeous mood board! Thank you so much darling!

Summary: AU. Michael Langdon is a professional thief who steals supernatural artifacts. The reader is a dark witch on a quest to save the most important person in her life. When Michael steals something vital from her, she goes after him to get it back.

Pairing: Michael Langdon x Female Reader

Warnings: Mild angst, eventual smut but not in this part 

A/N: This will probably be two parts, but I am not sure yet. 

Blowing out a deep breath, you finally relaxed a bit when the plane’s wheels touched down on the run way. You were a reasonably powerful witch, but that didn’t stop you from being a white knuckle flyer. Clutching your small leather bag in your hands, you waited impatiently to exit the plane. Inside was a small vial of oil from a plant that didn’t even exist anymore. It was the final ingredient you needed. 

Staring out of the small plane window, your thoughts drifted to your grandmother, feeling the familiar worry. Gran had raised you, was always there for you, no matter what. When your own mother rejected you, called you evil and unnatural, she took you in. After kids at school witnessed you healing a small bird with a broken wing, Gran was there with hugs and peppermint tea when they began their bullying. Barely out of high school, you had even been soundly rejected by Cordelia’s coven of narrow minded snobs. The bitch’s voice still rang in your head; the magic you possessed was too dark, too unpredictable. Spitting on the floor of their pretentious dining room, your grandmother had led you out in a sweep of colorful silk and silver and turquoise, never looking back. She was the only one who made you feel safe and accepted. Now it was your turn to be there for her. 

After repeated attempts to heal Gran yourself, you finally had to accept that your magic was not powerful enough to cure something this serious. It had taken months to track down a spell, dating back to ancient Babylonia, that was said to heal any illness. Exhaustive research, as well as the trusted spirits on your talking board, swore that the spell was effective. It took too much time, more money than you could afford and several favors from individuals of extremely questionable character, in order to gather the necessary ingredients. In the meantime, Gran’s health had continued to deteriorate. The doctors said she only had a few months left. But, the October new moon was just a few days away, and everything was finally in place. For the first time in nearly a year, there was a small bloom of hope in your heart.  

Well past midnight, you finally arrived back at the cozy bungalow you shared with your grandmother. After checking on her, snoring quietly in her bed, you continued to your own room. Entering your closet, you opened the small safe on the floor and deposited the vial from your bag inside before securely closing it again. The spell and ingredients sealed within were protected by both conventional and magical locks. 

Like usual, you then sat down tiredly at the desk and pulled out your talking board. It was the same as it had been the past few weeks. The spirits repeatedly mentioned a powerful, dangerous man, warning you over and over about him. Finally, one of them had produced a name. Michael Langdon. Everyone had heard of Michael Langdon, but the few reports of anyone actually seeing him were sketchy at best. Some believed he was a powerful warlock, others a demon. A few had actually said he was the Antichrist. You would be extremely careful, like you always were, but you had to focus on the healing spell for Gran right now. Plus, if Michael Langdon was real, what could he possibly want with you? Thanking the spirits respectfully for their information, you placed your talking board back on its shelf. Sighing in exhaustion, you collapsed onto the bed without even changing out of your clothes.

A breathtakingly beautiful man, dressed in a long black coat stood in the doorway. Long, golden hair fell in soft waves over his shoulders. As he stalked toward your bed, the smile gracing his full pink lips was pleasant, but there was darkness behind it. Paralyzed by his power, you struggled to scream, to even move, but it was useless. Panic raced through you as he hovered over your face, his icy blue eyes glowing in the darkness. Stroking a lock of hair off your face with long graceful fingers, he simply watched you for a moment. 

His perfect white teeth shown brightly as he spoke. “You have something I need,” he said softly.

Staring up at him mutely, you watched his pale blue eyes turn jet black. 

Bolting upright, you glanced wildly around the room. No one was there. You fell back against the pillows, feeling the way your heart was pounding. There was no doubt in your mind; Michael Langdon had just invaded your dream.

“You have something I need.”

A horrible thought entered your mind and you were out of bed and racing to your closet in seconds. 

The safe yawned open, empty of all the contents. 

“No, no, no! NO!” You cried out sinking you hands into your hair and pulling hard enough to hurt. Tears of frustration welled up in your eyes as you paced around room in agitation. Whipping back around to glare at the empty safe, something caught your eye. A long, blonde hair was caught along the top of the open door to the safe. Reaching out, you pinched it tightly between your finger and thumb. Grabbing your iPad, you took a chance and opened a map of California. Carefully, placing the silky hair on the map, you pulled the crystal on the black cord from around your neck. It swung in tightening circles, scrying for Michael Langdon’s location. 

He was nearby. Michael seemed to be heading in the direction of Santa Barbara. Grabbing your keys, bag and iPad, you raced out to your car intending to set a new land speed record in order to catch up to him. There was no way you were going to let this spell slip out of your hands so easily.  

Less than an hour later, Michael was entering a small, private air strip near the Santa Barbara airport. Struggling to remain calm, you pushed the gas pedal to the floor determined to intercept him.

Pulling up to the guard station, you used your significant power of concilium to make the man open the locked gate. 

In the distance you could see a small plane taxiing down a long strip of asphalt. You spied Michael talking with two other men, his golden hair bright against the darkness. His head turned in your direction, before you had even stopped the car. The image of his inky black eyes popped into your mind. Pushing down the cold fear that coiled in your belly, you slammed the car door shut and strode towards Michael, as the other men moved off quickly. 

“Give it back!” You demanded, staring up into his handsome, hateful face.

“Y/N. I’m impressed. You are a determined thing, aren’t you?” Michael said with a smile.

“Please! I need that spell. Please just give it back to me,” you pleaded, changing tactics. 

Indicating the small plane that was now in the air, Michael looked back at you with mock sympathy. “I’m afraid that is impossible.” 

Shifting your gaze from Michael’s gleaming blue eyes, to the quickly disappearing plane, you felt like you had been punched in the stomach. “Where is that plane going?” 

Michael looked at you quizzically, titling his head the slightest amount, not uttering a word. 

Wrapping your arms around your middle, you turned away before the tears began to fall. How were you going to tell Gran? 

“Wait!” Michael called out to you. 

Ignoring him, you quickened your pace, but your legs had another idea. You found yourself frozen in place by his magic, glaring up at him as he suddenly appeared in front of you.

“That spell was for your grandmother,” Michael stated. The smirk was gone from his face, replaced by concern. 

“Get out of my head Langdon!” You spat, even as the tears finally spilled down your face. What the hell did he care who the spell was for?

Feeling like a pinned insect as he studied you silently, you refused to meet his intense gaze. Slowly, Michael turned to walk away and then he was simply gone.

                                                          ***

Trying to relieve the gritty feeling under your eyelids, you dug the heels of your hands into them. Too little sleep and too many tears made you want to rip your eyeballs out of their sockets just to stop the stinging. After the debacle of the night before, you hadn’t even bothered to go home, opting instead to head into the small  shop your grandmother had owned for many years. Sullenly huddled over your coffee cup at the front counter, you heard the chimes on the door. 

Michael Langdon’s tall, imposing form filled the open space. 

Freezing for few seconds, you tried to find your voice. “What are you doing here?” You croaked out. 

The same pleasant smile he wore in your dream passed over his full lips as he entered the store. Strolling around the small space, like he was a normal customer, Michael trailed his elegant, ringed fingers over the spines of books, examined the jars of herbs and cases of jewelry and crystals before stopping directly in front you. 

Pale blue eyes traveled over your face. “You look tired, Y/N,” Michael said, ignoring your question. 

Feeling your emotions rising to the surface again, you swallowed hard. “You got what you wanted. Please just leave me alone,” you pleaded. 

Actual concern was painted all over Michael’s beautiful face. “I want to help your grandmother.” 

“What are you talking about?” You asked. 

The small smile was back on his stupid pink lips. “I can heal her.”

“Nothing can heal her except for the spell you stole from me!” You shouted, rising to your feet. “Now get the fuck out of my store!” 

Michael gazed back at you silently, completely unfazed by your outburst. 

Fighting the urge to claw his crystal blue eyes out, you glared up at him. “You’re serious?” You asked incredulously.

“I wouldn’t be wasting my time if I wasn’t,” Michael said. 

Skeptically, you took in his solemn expression. “And why would you help us?” 

“I’ll be at your home tomorrow night,” he said simply, leaving without another word. 

                                                          ***

“What time is he supposed to be here?” Gran asked.

“He didn’t say,” you answered as you helped settle her into the big comfortable chair in your small living room.

Her vivid green eyes pinned you. “What?” You asked. 

Shaking her head slowly, Gran paused. “His magic is dark. I can feel it,” she said. 

“So is mine,” you said, feeling a sting at her words. 

Placing both her hands on your face, Gran looked you in eye. “All magic is a combination of light and dark,” she said kindly. 

Smiling briefly at her, you leaned into her palm. “Is Michael a warlock?” You questioned. 

“No. He is much stronger than a warlock. Michael’s power is... vast,” Gran trailed off.”There could be consequences.”

Gran’s words stopped you. “Consequences?” You questioned. 

Holding her weathered hands out palms up, Gran nodded. 

“Well, if Michael really can heal you, then I will deal with the consequences,” you said seriously. 

Right on cue, there was a soft knock on the front door. Glancing back at Gran, you went to answer it.

Michael stood on the threshold dressed in an elegant black suit, long, golden hair cascading over his shoulders. His beauty was like nothing you had ever seen. 

“Good evening Y/N,” Michael said pleasantly, the small smile in place on his full lips. 

Gesturing inside, you stepped back so he could enter. “Come in,” you said. 

Crossing the room, hands clasped behind his back, Michael’s presence filled the small space. He knelt down next to Gran’s chair. 

“It’s an honor to meet you,” Michael said, holding out a graceful hand. 

Gran grasped it between both of hers. “Mr Langdon,” she said looking into his handsome face. 

“Please, call me Michael,” he answered. 

Watching the two of them, you could sense the silent communication taking place. 

Gran turned to meet your gaze, smiling reassuringly, before looking back at Michael.

Placing his large hand on her shoulder, Michael’s eyes closed, thick eyelashes fanned out against his cheekbones. Gran’s head dropped forward slowly, chin resting against her chest, as you looked on in concern. Michael’s brows knit together in concentration and then the lights all over the house were flickering violently. Suddenly, Gran’s head snapped up, eyes wide, staring at Michael in amazement. His sparkling blue eyes opened and he was looking back at her, a dazzling smile passing over his face.  

Politely refusing Gran’s offer of tea, Michael made his way to the front door. Following behind him, you searched for a way to express your gratitude. 

“Wait,” you began, as Michael turned to face you, his angelic features lit softly by the porch light. “Thank you.”

He smiled at you silently, causing a funny little flip in your stomach. 

“Why did you help us?” You asked.

“I lost someone. Someone very dear to me. The same thing didn’t need to happen to you,” he answered. 

Reaching out, he gently stroked the back of his hand down your cheek. And then he was gone. 

Within days, everything had returned to normal. Gran was back to her vivacious self and planning a Samhain celebration with her many friends. Business had been particularly good, as it usually was during October. 

Michael had given you your life back.

Constantly, you found your thoughts straying back to his crystal blue eyes and full pink lips, before you mentally slapped yourself.

Closing up the shop the next evening, you were looking forward to getting home, when there was movement in your peripheral vision.

Before you had a second to react, two large men in black suits blocked you in against the door.  A dark hood was yanked over your head. Struggling against them was useless, your magic was even useless, but you fought with every ounce of strength you possessed. Suddenly, a sharp pain bloomed on the back of your head.

As the darkness descended, you instinctively called out to Michael Langdon for help. 

Tagging...

@venusxxlangdon @lovelylangdonx @sojournmichael @allyadarth @langdons-rep @queencocoakimmie @kaigitana @uinen-ulmiel @sunshinemycat @langdvnshepherd @elena-75s-blog @bbyduncan @rocketgirl2410 @depressedbitch43 @flowing-imagination @witchbloodsworld @napping-is-my-favorite @langdondelrey @lennonlemon @itsnomystery @winxfred @soomishuwu @i-monky @thedeviltohisangel @frogmuttforever @manahime193 @deeppaperbatapricot @kleineshaeschen @bookobsssesed99 @wheredoiwhaaat25 @drama-penguins @dramapenguinthe3rd @divinelangdon @moltenskeleton @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @ms-mead @divinelangdon @softlangdon @dyns33 @langdonsdemon @coloursunlimited @nightsblackroses @omgsuperstarg @whope123 @urmomgayforlettuce @micheallangdons @evil-motherfuckerlangdon @langdonsinferno

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed!

[frankendykes-monster]

"In April 1962, a match pitting Japanese pro wrestling superstar Rikidozan and tag-team partners Toyonobori and Great Togo against American challengers Freddie Blassie, Lou Thesz, and Mike Sharpe aired nationally on Japanese television. During the bout, Blassie bit Great Togo on the forehead, opening a horrible bloody gash. Two elderly viewers, shocked by the gory sight, collapsed and died, casualties of a media war that saw networks and sponsors producing outrageous programs and stunts to grab the audience. Released later that year, Honda's King Kong vs. Godzilla is pop art imitating life, with two gargantuan wrestlers of Japanese and American pedigree tussling on live TV, raising ratings while razing cities. It's monster-movie-as-satire, a biting critique of the banal programming that dominated television, prompting widespread debate over the ascendant medium's effect on Japanese culture. The social critic Soichi Oya warned that TV was creating "a nation of 100 million idiots."

"People were making a big deal out of ratings," said Honda. "But my own view of TV shows was that they did not take the viewer seriously, that they took the audience for granted...so I decided to show that through my movie."

King Kong vs. Godzilla was one of five banner releases for 1962 to commemorate Toho's thirtieth anniversary, along with [Akira] Kurosawa's Sanjuro (Tsubaki Sanjuro), Hiroshi Inagaki's 47 Samurai (Chu-shingura), Mikio Naruse's Lonely Lane (Hourou-ki), and Yasuki Chiba's Born in Sin (Kawa no hotori de). By far Honda's most commercially successful film, King Kong vs. Godzilla was a runaway hit and the bedrock of the long-running Godzilla franchise that followed. Though Godzilla was a household word, this was the monster's first appearance in seven years. Only after Godzilla battled "the eighth wonder of the world" - Kong, the more popular monster, received top billing - did Toho truly begin producing its long and legendary series of monster-versus-monster sequels.

This is also perhaps Honda's most infamous effort, thanks to a poor imitation of the great King Kong and an inept, reworked American version that, as with Godzilla [1954], was distributed to many more territories than Honda's cut. Most troubling for Honda, though, was how Godzilla, in only its third film - and the first in color and scope - transformed from nuclear protest monster into outsized Rikidozan, engaging in comic wrestling antics. "[The studio] thought it would be interesting to make these two monsters fight," Honda later reflected. "That was all there was to it. Still, when you are the director, it is your film, so you still have to do your best. So I sucked it up and worked as hard as possible."

The project originated in Hollywood several years earlier, when stop-motion animator Willis O'Brien developed a proposed project titled King Kong vs. Frankenstein (later King Kong vs. Prometheus). O'Brien envisioned a battle in the streets of San Francisco between Kong and a monster created by Victor Frankenstein's grandson; the creatures would be animated via O'Brien's signature effects work. O'Brien partnered with independent producer John Beck, who failed to attract a Hollywood studio but eventually hit paydirt in Japan. Beck brokered a deal wherein Toho purchased the right to use King Kong in a film; however, O'Brien's ideas were jettisoned and he would have no involvement in the production. Toho made King Kong vs. Godzilla instead, with Beck retaining the lucrative overseas distribution rights.

RKO's fee for King Kong was reportedly 80 million Yen (about $220,000), inflating the budget and forcing Honda to cut costs. At the last minute, he canceled plans to film scenes set on Faro Island, Kong's home, on location in Sri Lanka. Instead, the crew shot at Oshima Island near Tokyo and on studio sets. "King Kong took all the money!" said actor Yu Fujiki.

Shinichi Sekizawa's script is light and quickly paced. Tako (Ichiro Arishima), the excitable advertising chief for Pacific Pharmaceutical Co., is desperate to shake up the low-rated TV science program that his company sponsors. He sends a cameraman, Sakurai (Tadao Takashima), and a sound man, Furue (Fujiki), to the Solomon Islands archipelago to investigate reports of a majin (demon god) worshipped by natives of tiny Faro Island. They return with King Kong literally in tow, but Kong breaks free in route and runs wild in Japan. Meanwhile, Godzilla bursts out of an iceberg in the Arctic and instinctively heads south toward its Tokyo stomping grounds. The Japanese military can't stop either creature, so a plan is hatched to pit them against one another, a monster matchup tailormade for the TV cameras.

King Kong vs. Godzilla takes a page from the keizai shosetsu (business novels) and films of the late 1950s and early 1960s that spoofed ruthless Japanese business practices. There are also similarities to Yasuzo Masumura's excellent Giants and Toys (Kedamono no yado, 1958), a satire about two candy companies engaged in an over-the-top media war, though where Masumura is cynical and heavy-handed, Honda is lighthearted. "The reason I showed the monster battle through the prism of a ratings war was to depict the reality of the times," said Honda. "When you think of King Kong just plain fighting Godzilla, it is stupid. But how you stage it, the times in which it takes place, that's the thought process of the filmmaker. Back then, Sekizawa was working on pop song lyrics and TV series, so he had a clear insight into television."

[Section omitted]

"This is neither the Kong of 1933 nor the Godzilla of 1954, and the monsters inspire little of their original pathos. Instead of moody monochrome, they are photographed in bright, revealing Eastmancolor and often framed at waist level, betraying any illusion of size. Godzilla has an improved design and blue-hot radiation breath; but Kong, played by stuntman Shoichi Hirose, is too obviously a man in a furry costume with lumpy facial features. Curiously, RKO reportedly required Toho not only to distinguish its Kong with a different face, but also to depict the ape snatching a female and scaling a building, recalling the original. Mie Hama does an excellent job shrieking in Kong's clutches, though one wishes Honda had borrowed even just a bit of the tragic romance of Merian C. Cooper's film. Godzilla mocks its opponent, Kong beats his chest and scratches his noggin, and both monsters employ slapstick fighting moves - Godzilla kicking boulders, Kong swinging its foe by the tail, and so on. Kong appears outmatched, but the odds are evened in the final battle via a deus ex machina, a thunderstorm that gives Kong a jolt of strength-inducing electricity."

[Section omitted]

"Because it was made not long after the AMPO protests, King Kong vs. Godzilla is sometimes interpreted as a critique of the Japan-US alliance, the monsters representing their respective countries. Studies such as Cynthia Erb's excellent Tracking King Kong make this analogy, but Honda had no such intent and, in fact, he portrays Kong as something of a proxy Japanese monster, with no apparent American origins. Unlike The Mysterians, Battle in Outer Space, Mothra, or Gorath, there is no involvement by the West in averting the crisis, and unlike Honda's 1950s dramas, the trappings of imported American culture (steaks and fries eaten with a fork and knife, jazz albums decorating Fumiko's apartment) are benign. Kong unintentionally helps expel Godzilla from Japan, playing the hero-by-default role that Godzilla would adopt a few years later. The fight ends in an apparent draw, then the monsters swim away - an ending to be repeated often, with variation."

- Ishiro Honda: A Life in Film, From Godzilla to Kurosawa, by Steve Ryfle and Ed Godziszewski

[1-1snailxd-art]

Libraries are for Meetings

Masterlist 

Mobile App users: I suggest reading on Ao3 or on desktop version. I don’t understand why, but when I look at this fic on mobile the paragraph spaces aren’t there properly. If you know how to fix this, please let me know.

Overview 

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Type: Alternate Universe - University

Rating: Mature (mainly because of the thinking and character loss)

Relationships: Analogical (Platonic? Romantic? Who knows), Royality, possibly more to come

Characters: Virgil Sparks, Logan Mars, Patton Smiles, Roman Reels, original Deceit inspired character (they are sweet, I promise), and a few original characters and possibly more familiar names to come.

Summary: Virgil works as a cleaner in a library after loosing his university scholarship. He’s homeless, he’s lost, he’s confused and he has to admit he needs help. Cue an unpredictable meeting and suddenly there is someone willing to take him on the path of self discovery and acceptance. Will he accept it, or will he walk away like he normally does.

Virgil and Logan’s growth may be the main focus, but Patton and Roman do have their own story arcs. A few original characters to steer the story and a reimagined Deceit with their own quirky role to play.

Warnings: anxiety and panic, negative thinking, deaths (original characters), homophobia (and more. This is a tale of self discovery and acceptance), homelessness, different aspects of LGBTQIA+ presented (I probably won’t get the whole spectrum, but there are a few)

Chapter 1 - The Dark Librarian 

Music blasted through Virgil’s headphones as he finished piecing a gaming system back together. He was so use to doing this, he was certain he could finish the job with his eyes closed; not that his perfectionism would ever let him try. Checking the clock, he scribbled in his notebook to start working out the cost of his efforts.

 “Hey Virgil?... Sparks!”

“I told you not to call me by my surname.” Virgil grumbled, pulling his headphones off as he turned to face his visitor.

 A woman lent on the doorframe of the room, dressed in a light blue button up shirt and black slacks. Despite he hair being in a tight bun, a single strand hung loose near her face and she twirled it around her finger.

 “What do you need, Katie.” Virgil swooped his bangs off his face and gave her a half smile. “You always twirl your hair when you need something.”

“Read me like a book.”

“We are in a library. Makes sense that I’m good at reading.” Katie was avoiding all eye contact and Virgil groaned, “Spill those feels, Reels. It will be time for my shift to start if you keep stalling.”

Katie let out a nervous laugh, “Yeah, about that.”

“What?” Nervous energy started to build in Virgil’s gut at Katie’s response.

“Look, I know you hate being out the front during the day, but I need you to take the afternoon shift.” Virgil fixed Katie with a tired look as she rambled on. “The main library got in a whole bunch of new reference books and they have all been entered into the system incorrectly, and Tia – that new librarian- tried to fix it herself, but ended up messing up the whole system, and now she’s freaking out and she called me in hysterics because no one can borrow and what is the point of a library if you can’t borrow an-“

“Woah, woah,” Virgil waved his hands out in front of him to silence the freaked out librarian. “It’s fine, Katie. I can manage. It’s a Tuesday, nothing ever happens on a Tuesday.”

“I’ll make sure you get paid for the extra shift, and I’ll come and help you with your normal cleaning as soon as I’m done.”

“Whatever. It’s fine.” Virgil followed Katie out of the room, checking his keycard was in his pocket before closing the office door. “Message me if Tia screwed the computers up too much for you to handle.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Virgil.” Katie started racing towards the front door, before quickly turning to call back to him. “Oh, my brother Roman has booked the reading area at 4:30 and office 3 cancelled so it’s actually free.”

“Would you get out of here already, Reels.”

Katie flipped Virgil the bird before running out the wooden front door, leaving Virgil in the silence of the small, old library.

 *********************************

 As expected, the library was very quiet all afternoon. Virgil did his best to remain calm and come across as a professional as a few families came in briefly to borrow books with their small children. His ripped jeans and ‘Panic at the Disco!’shirt didn’t really scream ‘librarian’ but his clothing options were very limited at the moment. Not that he liked to admit it, but Virgil had been living on friends couches and in his library office since he lost his university scholarship. Katie was well aware of what Virgil was doing, but feigned ignorance; Virgil would talk to her when he was ready.

 “What’s up, Sparkles? Crawled out of your cave rather early today.” Virgil groaned at the sound of Roman’s voice, “Where’s Katie?”

Virgil tilted his head to the side and made sure Roman felt the full weight of the annoyance in his eyes. Katie’s use of his surname was in jest, a joke between coworkers and friends; Roman’s nickname always came across like an insult.

“Wow, touch-y.” Roman held his hands up in surrender, before readjusting his red and white jacket to appear more sincere. “Viiirgil, where is my delightful sister Katie?”

“There was a book emergency at the main library so she went to help out.”

Virgil continued pulling books off the shelf to inspect them for damage, but Roman wasn’t moving on.

 “Can I help you with something else?”

“Well I’m glad you asked,” Roman beamed and moved to lean on Virgil’s trolley. “Seeing as no one is in here, can I pl-“

“No.”

“Wha-?” Roman gasped as if he had been shot, “I didn’t even finish asking my question.”

“You didn’t need to.” Virgil returned a book and gave Roman a mischievous smile, “The answer is no.”

Roman stood up and let Virgil push the trolley back down the aisle and towards the main desk. For a moment he considered pulling the ‘My sister is your boss’ card or even turning on the waterworks for his deceased parents but decided against it. He didn’t know much about the mysterious worker, but he knew enough that power and sympathy would get him nowhere. Thankfully, Roman had one more trick up his sleeve.

 Virgil watched Roman move the lounge and beanbags around the reading area to extend his floor space. Booking dance spaces was expensive and the library proved to be a cheap, but inferior, alternative. When Roman threw his jacket aside, revealing his tight black tank top, Virgil was quick to avert his eyes to prevent himself from being caught blushing at the sight. Turning back to the computer, Virgil started scrolling through the booking lists and checking that he still had permanent hold over office 2, before going into the system to look for overdue loans.

Humming pulled Virgil away from his thoughts and he saw Roman humming a tune to himself as he danced around the area. There was a slight vibrating sound and Virgil looked to the end of the bench and saw Roman’s phone sitting on a pile of books. Walking over, the screen was lit up as the phone vibrated for an alarm titled ‘music please Virgil’.

 Roman paused mid step as the beginning of one of his dance pieces started to come through the overhead speakers, instead of Katie’s usual natural sounds.

“Thank you, Virgil!” Roman called as he re-centred himself and prepared to start his piece.

Shaking his head, Virgil retreated to the seclusion of the aisles to return more books to their shelves. Roman was annoying, but how could he deny the effort the guy had gone to. In all honesty, he was just glad to not have been yelled at or have someone demanding things from him. His opinion of Katie’s little brother shifted slightly in that moment and he couldn’t deny that Roman was truly a very talented young man.

  *********************************

 BANG

“Katie!”

BANG

“Roman!”

CLICK

Virgil’s heart was racing as he peaked out from an aisle and saw a man in a McDonalds uniform finish locking the front door and start running towards the back of the library. His brown hair was neatly styled, except for a few stray curls that sat on his forehead. He completely ignored Virgil, running straight for Roman and pulling him into a crushing hug.

“Roman, you’ve got to help me. I’ve done something terrible, horrible, unforgivable, utterly-“

 “Hey!” Virgil’s loud voice echoed through the empty library as he disconnected Roman’s music and stared at the pair. “You can’t just come in and lock up the library. Who do you think you are?”

“Chill out, Vee. Patton’s with me.” Roman held his arms securely around Patton and looked down at him with eyes full of confusion and concern.

“Don’t call me Vee, and I don’t care if he’s with you or not, you can’t just lock up the library whenever you want.”

Virgil started to walk back towards the door and Patton cried out.

“Please, don’t unlock it. I-“

A loud bang on the door stopped Virgil in his tracks and Patton let out a squeak.

 “Patton! Open this door immediately.”

The door shook as the person on the other side attempted to gain entry.

“Geez, Pat, what did you do to him?”

“One guy is making all that noise?” Virgil asked as the banging and yelling continued.

Patton nodded and buried his face into Roman’s shoulder.

“I r-real-ly mes-ssed up, Ro. The b-bi-g-ge-ss-st m-m-mes-“

Patton could barely speak through his sobs and irregular breathing. Virgil had no idea what was happening, but he wasn’t about to find out what would happen if the guy outside got to Patton.

 Virgil went to the desk and grabbed the keycard for office 3 and shoved it in Roman’s hand.

“Lock yourself in the office and put the dark screen up. I’ll handle this.”

“But Virgil, you don’t even know-“

“Just get him out of here before he passes out, ok!”

 Roman saw the determination in Virgil’s eyes and questioned no more, quickly leading Patton through the library to the office at the back. Virgil did his best to compose himself as he approached the door, hoping his outer self appeared more intimidating than he felt.

“Patton! You need to come out here and face me, NOW!”

 Virgil waited until he felt the man shift away from the door again before opening it. What stood before him was not the threat Virgil had pictured at all. Where he had imagined a heavily muscled maniac, a tall man in a white lab coat stood in his place. If it wasn’t for his red face behind squared, black glasses, and the way he quickly stormed passed Virgil, he wouldn’t have believed that this was the same person who had been trying to tear the door down.

 “Where is he?” The man started marching down to the back of the library, glancing down the aisles. “I’m going to kill that sorry excuse for a friend so I can dissect and study the brain of that idiotic, pun-generating humanoid.”

“Geez, dude, calm down.” Virgil called, as he attempted to catch up to the man after re-locking the door.

“Calm down? CALM DOWN! My life is over. How can I be calm?”

Virgil watched as the anger melted into sadness and the man clutched a warped laptop to his chest and slumped to his knees.

“He ruined everything.”

 Despite squeezing them shut, tears still streamed from the stranger's eyes. Virgil felt the adrenaline of the situation begin to fade from his system, and his legs and hands shook slightly as a result. Squeezing his hands into tight fists to calm them, Virgil knelt before the man and made his voice calm and soft.

“I’m guessing this has something to do with that laptop.”

“Yes,” the man sniffed and pulled a handkerchief from his coat pocket to clean himself up. “Patton…knocked it off of the table at the lab.”

“You chased Patton here from the science labs?” Virgil questioned, surprised when a nod confirmed the distance the two had traversed.

“All my work was on this laptop. Everything…gone.”

 Virgil had come across a few students over the years that had similar situations. He’d been given broken laptops, crushed USBs and smashed external hard drives. Everyone reacted a different way to the possibility of losing their data; though this was the first time he had seen someone hulk out over it.

“If you promise not to dissect anyone, I could have a look at it for you.”

“What? What can you do? It’s smashed.”

Virgil smirked as he reached out to carefully take the laptop out of the man's hands.

“You’d be surprised how tough some computers really are.”

“Well...um, thank you…”

“Virgil. Virgil Sparks.” He extended his hand out and offered a reassuring smile.

“Oh, um, I’m Logan Mars.” Logan shook Virgil’s hand and looked down in shame. “I’m sorry for my behaviour. I-it was incredibly uncalled for.”

“You’re right, but don’t sweat it. Come one,” Virgil stood and gestured to the offices, “let’s go check out this laptop, hey.”

 Logan slowly followed Virgil to his office, suddenly very aware of the immaturity of his actions. He was thankful that Virgil seemed so forgiving, anyone else would have called security or the police on him. It dawned on Logan that if that had been the case, he could have lost his scholarship and then his life would have been well and truly ruined.

“Thank you for not calling security.” Logan whispered as Virgil unlocked the office and started clearing the table of his work.

“Your welcome.”

“I’m serious. My behaviour was worthy of a call and that would have been the end of my time here. My scholarship would have b-”

“Lo, it’s fine.” Virgil finished boxing the gaming system and heaved it over to the corner of the room. “I wouldn’t jeopardise someone’s scholarship over a mental malfunction. I know what it’s like to lose everything over a simple mistake.”

“Pardon my question, but would you mind elaborating?”

Virgil let out a small chuckle as he searched through his boxes for tools and components for the laptop.

“I lost my scholarship due to a stupid mistake.” The look of sadness and curiosity in Logan’s eyes made Virgil nervous, but he continued. “I got into a fight in the middle of a lecture hall. Some moron made some…disgusting comments. I’ve spent my whole life being afraid to speak and listening to the shit people say about…”

Virgil couldn’t bring himself to say it. Shutting the closet door tight in his mind and quickly wiping a stray tear before Logan could see.

“Yeah, so, um… I decided to stand for what I believed in. Punches were thrown on both sides, but ultimately he ended up with a dislocated jaw and I ended up out of uni and out of money.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

 Logan couldn’t think of what else to say as Virgil set to work, pulling apart the laptop to inspect the components. Clearly, Virgil was a very multilayered individual. Logan had only seen the surface of who he was, and he was already fascinated with who the man was and who he wanted to be.

He watched curiously as Virgil pulled out various handmade devices and connected wires expertly in the sea of electrical components. Given the anatomy of a living organism, Logan could identify parts and their purposes with ease; but the scene before him now meant nothing. People had called Logan a genius his whole life, but watching Virgil now made him feel like a toddler in a 10th grade math class.

 “You are truly skilled in your field, Virgil. Are you taking classes elsewhere to hone your craft?”

Virgil laughed and turned to his own laptop screen, “I would need money to do that dude, and no one would give me another scholarship after losing my last one.”

“So where did you learn to do this?” Logan gestured at the table before him.

“At the Sparks institute of trial and error. Taught myself most things and Google has taught me the rest.”

“Unbelievable. You’re a genius.”

“Ew, seriously Logan, stop.” Virgil moved to grab a USB from his bag and plugged it into his laptop, pulling up another program and adjusting a few wires. “What I do is nothing special. I just know how stuff works.”

 Logan watched on in silence as Virgil continued. Clearly, he wasn’t going to take any of Logan’s compliments, and he didn’t give them out freely. The screen suddenly lit up with a document and Logan gasped and threw his arms around Virgil’s neck.

“You did it! You found it!”

“Ca-breathe.”

Quickly releasing Virgil, Logan apologised profusely for losing control of his emotions again. Virgil adjusted his shirt and fixed his hair as he set the computer to start copying the files across.

“You gotta settle down. I can’t guarantee that all your files are here, there is still a chance some of them are corrupted. I’ve got a program separating the corrupted files to a different USB and I’ll see what I can salvage and-“

Logan pulled Virgil into a hug, carefully this time. “Thank you so much, Virgil. If even half of my data and reports are safe, it’ll still be enough to show my professor.”

“I am not comfortable with this much physical contact with a stranger.”

Logan quickly let go and stepped back, “sorry. I, ah, went over the top again.”

 “Logan?”

The pair turned at the whispered voice to find Patton standing at the door, Roman protectively close by.

“Patton.” Logan’s voice was calmer now and it sounded strange to Virgil to hear him say Patton’s name in such a way.

“I’m so sorry, Logan. You’ve told me so many times not to be silly in the labs and I let you down. I’m sorry, Logie. Please forgive me.”

“Patton,” Logan took a deep breath and massaged his eyebrows. “You almost cost me everything. Without this data I would have had an incomplete research task which could have jeopardised my time here. Thankfully, Virgil was able to salvage some of my research. I-I-I’m so angry at you right now.”

Logan was staring intently at the corner of the office, while Patton’s eyes never left his friend, even as they filled with tears.

“I don’t think I can stop being angry with you for a while.” Roman placed a comforting hand on Patton’s shoulder as he let out a sob at Logan’s words. “I accept your apology, but I’m not ready to forgive you yet. Do you understand?”

Logan finally looked at Patton as he posed the question. Patton nodded and looked shocked as Logan held out his arms for a hug. Never one to refuse a hug, Patton raced forward and buried himself under Logan’s coat.

Virgil watched on awkwardly at the exchange. His mind trying to piece together the relationship between the three people in the room with him. Roman looked at his phone and started rapidly tapping on the screen.

 “I’ll make it up to you, Logan. I promise.” Patton managed to say, as his sobbing finally diminished. “You are my oldest friend and I would never purposefully do anything to ruin our friendship.”

“I know, Patton.” Logan looked over to Roman, who had just pocketed his phone. “Would you mind if Patton stayed with you and Katie for a while.”

“Wha-“ fresh tears started pouring from Patton’s eyes as he lent back to look up at Logan, but the man remained focused on Roman.

“Already organised, Lo.” Roman wrapped his arms around Patton’s waist from behind. “It’s ok, Pat. We’ve been meaning to spend more time together and Logan just needs some space.”

 Virgil didn’t think it was possible for Patton’s eyes to get any wider, but they did as Roman slowly backed them out of the room. When the sound of the door closing echoed through the library, Logan’s shoulders slumped once again but this time no tears fell.

“I’ve known Patton since I was seven years old. He’s like a brother to me. It kills me to push him away like that.”

“Then why did you?”

“He needs to learn that there are times that I need to be taken seriously. Besides, he and Roman needed a good excuse to take their relationship to the next level.”

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End note:

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. More chapters to come in the future. Feel free to give me feedback, I am always happy to accept constructive feedback as it helps support my future writing. 

💜🐌

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Chapter 2 ----- Masterlist 

What else have I done:

The Perfect Ring (oneshot - analogical proposal)

You Promised (oneshot - prinxiety angst/injury/near death) 

Sides of a Hero (Completed Fic - sides are fusions of impulses and aspects of Thomas. Virgil has a depressing past that he is forced to face thanks to Deceit and Rage. Was canon compliant at the time of completion)

The Shield to your Sword (WIP - A fantasy/magic au - Prinxiety (Royal Roman and orphan Virgil - they’ll admit to their love eventually), Virgil angst, non binary, healer Logan, *spoiler* Patton) 

Check out my other blog for random fandom reblogs and stuff @snail-giggles

[bormst]

future nostalgia - dua lipa

album review 

In the summer of 2017, one of my first jobs ever involved filling sample bottles of oil which purpose was to be poured onto pet food in order to give them ~silky smooth~ and healthier fur. I sat for hours on end in my hot ass garage filling 8oz bottles from big ass, blue oil drums to be shipped out to pet care companies that would give them out as essentially free samples. it wasn't horrible BUT it was god fucking awful. During those hours of manual labor, I took it upon myself to past the time by listening to music, as one does. that summer, i got VERY familiar with (for example) halsey’s hopeless fountain kingdom, kesha’s rainbow, as well as one very amazing self-titled work, dua lipa; dua lipa. this album dropped around the beginning of the summer (june 2) and was a pretty standard 12 track debut, pop record. i was already vaguely familiar with miss lipa’s work via her dope ass tracks, hotter than hell & blow your mind (mwah) both total bops that were released before the drop of self titled. now, when i say this bottle pumping job went on for hours in order to fulfill the required amounts I needed to meet overtime, i was able to listen to A LOT of music. that summer, this album ruled my life. with a voice of gold, dua’s star potential on self titled was so apparent right off the back. with tracks like genesis, homesick, IDGAF, the two previously mentioned, and the earth shattering new rules, this girl was ready to step on our spleens right out of the gate. i spent so much time with this album it really defined summer 2017 for me. very pop, but done in a such an original manner with unique takes on production and lyrical content, self titled was stamping its name on the world of lesser-known pop (this was before her blowup). i was so infatuated with this record but I noticed the traction wasn’t following. for months on end it, it really seemed like dua lipa was just going to be an indie artist forever, which there was nothing wrong with that, i just always thought she had the potential to go the distance and become a global sensation (not to say she wasn’t successful, her popularitiy was only growing in the UK, but was stunted for a while in the US). welp, then it happened. almost like a light switch, her song new rules was everywhere. there was no escaping its radio influence. the breakup anthem with hints of female empowerment was infectious and incredibly well-down, jump starting her career from that point forward. The inevitability of her success leading to multiple successful collaborations (electricity, one kiss) all the way to her winning the best new artist award at the 2018 grammy’s. now if you know anything about entertainment award superstitions, you may have heard of the infamous curse of the new artist. basically, this says that who ever wins this award each year will then cease to keep their relevance-ball rolling in the years to come (meghan trainor, alessia carra, etc.). dua lipa said lol i don’t feel like doing that, and with that we were gifted her newest work, future nostalgia. 

upon initial teasing during the tail end of last year, this project was something I was VERY much looking forward due to just how much lipa’s first album impressed and satisfied my admitted love of pop music. when don’t start now dropped, i was worried. while now i think it is a total effing disco banger, i wasn’t a huge fan at first, but upon multiple listens and the dropping of the first promotional single and also title track, future nostalgia, i knew this album was going to hit just as hard, if not harder than her debut, and boy was i right. future nostalgia is everything and then some. i might just be speaking for popheads and lipa stans alike here, but this body of work completely embodies what the title entails. a sexy mixture of 70-80′s disco dance funk with current pop and futurist aspects (granted, I wouldn’t go as far as to say this album is ‘experimental’ per sé, it still sticks with some pretty trusty and popular formulas lyrically and form wise). future nostalgia is 11 tracks (oddly specific) of pure fun. this record is a white bitch ass shaker, it makes you want to get the fuck up and have a good time (i cannot wait to drink to this record). some of the standout work here consists of honestly most of the tracks, but the best of the best cuts are most the singles with the inclusion of levitating. my god, levitating is a banger. the pacing of the album is a great choice as well. while most of the tracks hold disco elements and some danceability, the story of the sequence of tracks makes it all the more unskippable. the track physical is a total 80′s reminiscent tour de force of a dance floor ranger. something i love about lipa is her ability to use lyrics (no shade) that lean towards more simple patterns and rhythms, but her melodies and production carry what she has to say to fluently and effectively. the very last track, boys will be boys, offers a sense of political commentary about the struggles and fears women face on the daily. i appreciate the use of ‘boys will be boys, but girls will be women.’ dua does not give a fuck about your misogyny, rightfully so, and a great way to end her sophomore body of work. 

if anyone were ever going to beat the curse of the sophomore slump, i’m glad it was pop goddess, dua lipa. future nostalgia is an easy contender for aoty and it’s only march. this album was exactly what at least i needed to survive this corona quarantine. Regardless of the the lack of range in thematic content, this is record is a bop through and through. I didn’t know if it was possible for dua to top her self titled, and i don’t even know if it is fair to compare these two bodies of work due to the obvious sonic differences, but as of now, i’m leaning towards FN, damn near pop perfection. i stan. 

future nostalgia - dua lipa 4 1/2 stars

[fluffyunicornofdanger]

We Are Queen

Author’s Note: This is my first one-shot for this blog, I really hope you guys like it. So, this is longer than I intended it to be, but I love it. I’ve had this idea for a long time and feel in love with it which is probably why its so long. But whatever. Let me know if you guys want a part two because I might just do one since I really love this. Again, I hope that you guys like it, please give feedback. And requests are open. So, yeah.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Brian May x Reader

Part Two

Summary: Brian and Y/n have been dating for a few months and she has yet to meet his bandmates. But on the other hand, Brian’s unaware that she is the sister to members of another famous band. That is until the two bands decided to collaborate. 

Word Count: 4,714

Warnings: Swearing

The book store smelled of cider and dust as Y/n ran a finger down a row of books, trying to find the one she was looking for. She was currently in the ancient history section of the small corner store. She had searched all over the store for something that looked mildly interesting but hadn’t found a thing. Finding a title that sparked some interest, she pulled it off the shelf and flipped through it, the coarse corners of the pages getting caught on her fingers.

“I think this is it,” she stated, closing the book. Her words were met with a low laugh from the other side of the shelf. “Oh, hush up, Mr. May.”

“Says the one who has taken bloody ages to pick out one book, Ms. Y/l/n,” a tall, lean man with long black curly hair said as he came around to the other side, stopping next to her. He looked down at the book in her hand to see that she had picked one about the fall of the Roman empire. He, on the other hand, had picked out a few books on star mapping.

She rolled her eyes, smacking him with the book, “You’re the one that said you needed new reading material.”

He nodded as she lead him to the register. “True, but I already had an idea of what I wanted.” He grabbed the book out of her hands and piling it on top of his. “You did not.”

“Whatever.”

The two approached the register where a young girl sat on a stool, flipping through a magazine. Brian set down the books, alerting the woman that it was time to do her job. Closing the magazine the girl grabbed the pile of books and turned them over, looking at the prices before ringing them up

“Brian, you don’t have to pay for my book,” she informed as she watched him reach for his wallet, pulling out her as well. “I have money, too, you know.” She waved her wallet in the air as proof.

“I know, but I asked you here so it’s my treat.”

She huffed, shoving her wallet back in her purse, there was no use arguing.

When the books were purchased, the two walked out of the store, hand-in-hand, into the brisk London air. Walking down the street, they passed other couples going for strolls, children playing outside their front doors, and people chatting at cafes. Y/n smiled as they passed a group of children playing a game of tag on a small lawn. Brian couldn’t help but smile as her attention was momentarily caught up in their game. That was one reason he loved her, though he had yet to say it. He loved how her face lit up when she was near children, always one to interact with them. How she smiled at strangers as she passed by them. How she was gentle and kind even though she didn’t have to be. God, he loved everything about her even though they hadn’t been together long.

The two had only been dating for two months, but it was, so far, the best two months of their lives. They had met after they stumbled into each other on a rainy night after they had both gotten off of work. Y/n had just finished up locking up the tailor's shop that she worked at as a seamstress when she tiredly walked out into the street. That night, Brian wasn’t much different, just having finished breaking up a fight between Roger and Freddie as ‘Roger wasn’t giving it his all’, something the blonde didn’t take kindly to hearing. Both were too caught up in their thoughts as their bodies collided and they fell onto the cold, slippery pavement. After they picked themselves off the ground, Brian offered to walk her home and the rest was really history.

“I want you to meet the boys,” he stated, stealing her attention from the children.

Turning to him, she squinted as the sun blocked her vision, “That would be lovely, but I thought you said that they are a lot to take in?”

He laughed, biting his lip. The boys definitely were a lot to take in. And they most definitely weren’t too happy to find out that someone else was getting his attention. Especially as that someone had been the reason he had been late for recording on more than one occasion. But they were happy for him. Everyone deserved to find someone to love. But Brian was afraid that with how flamboyant Freddie was and how flirty Roger could be at times, that they would be too much for her to handle and she would run for the hills. If she did, he wouldn’t blame her as he wanted to do that at times. He thanked God for John because he knew that the man would be nothing but sweet towards her.

“When do you want me to met them?” she asked, pulling him from his trace.

He brought her knuckles to his lips, leaving a small kiss. “Well, can’t tomorrow as Freddie wants to collaborate, or I guess you could say attempt to, with this other band. So that probably won’t be a good day. Maybe the day after. We could do dinner.”

Y/n nodded as they came upon her row house, which she shared with two roommates. “I’ll clear my schedule,” she stated, a smile growing on her lips.

Brian unwound their fingers as he handed her the book that she took ages to pick out. “I’ll tell the boys.” He leaned in, running his hand over her cheek, leaving a peck on her lips, before they said their goodbyes.

Y/n sighed as she watched him walk down the pavement until he was out of sight. She quickly walked up the small stairs to the door, opening it and entering the house to be met by a chorus of laughter. Throwing off her coat, she didn’t have to wonder who they belonged to.

She entered the living room to see three men strung all over the furniture, she was ashamed to admit that she was related to them. And her mother would probably be ashamed to admit that she raised them. Placing her hands on her hips, she clicked her tongue at their behavior. Tracking their muddy boots over her couch and leaving coffee rings on her once clean coffee table. “I see the circus has arrived.”

The men left their conversation hanging, turning to the women who stood in the doorway.

The tallest man of the bunch, who was hanging over a dining chair that had been stolen from its place in the kitchen, rolled his eyes. “You sound like mum.”

Giving him a disgusted look she took a seat on the only unoccupied part of the tiny couch. “We all sound like mum,” she said, leaning back into the cushions. “What are you guys doing here anyway, Darrel?”

Darrel groaned, shifting in the uncomfortable wooden chair. “Well, we thought ‘why not go and visit our favorite sister,’ but Collett is in France at the moment, so we were left with you.”

“Yeah,” the man next to her yawned, stretching his arms over his head. “But you weren’t here and you’re roommate… um… what’s her name?” he asked the group.

“Jean,” the last of them, James, answered.

He nodded, “Jean told us to make ourselves at home and you know how good we are at that.”

That earned a chorus of laughs from the other two men.

She shook her head, smacking him on the arm, “Really, Ed? She told you guys to make yourselves at home, and this is how you decide to do it? Throw mud around-” She pointed at the muddy boot prints on the floor. “-which I don’t even want to know where it came from, and putting your feet on all the furniture.”

He shrugged, his long y/h/c slipping in front of his face. If their mother knew how long he’d gone between hair cuts on purpose, she would have a fit and probably come after it with a pair of scissors. God, if she knew how long they had all gone between cuts it would probably give her a heart attack.

Stretching her hands out in front of her, she let out a sigh. “Aren’t you guys supposed to be recording day?”

James scoffed from his place on the only other chair in the room, glaring at his brothers. “Oh, we were,” he seethed. “But Killian and Charlie weren’t getting alone. At all. And these two arses-” He pointed at his brothers who smiled back at him. “-didn’t make things any better.”

She let out a small ‘oh’ as Ed nodded in agreement, turning to her. “It was horrible. They started out just screaming at each other, which was fine, until they resorted to throwing things. Traumatizing, really. We might all need therapy now.”

All three men nodded in agreement.

Y/n’s three older brothers had started a band with five of their friends when they were in college in order to pay rent. Their mother thought that it was ridiculous and hoped that they would all get a ‘real job’. But five years later, they still had yet to find a ‘real job’, but they probably made more money by not doing so. In the last few years, they had grown in popularity, the band moving to London so they could be close to a recording studio.

Y/n was proud of how far they had come as few in her family thought they would make any money from it. But she knew that they would go somewhere. They worked hard to get where they were and they deserved everything they got. Even with their fame and their money, she never brought up that her brothers were rock stairs. It wasn’t that she was ashamed of them. She never used their fame for personal gain, she didn’t want to use their accomplishment to get herself anywhere. She didn’t want to leech off of them like so many other people had done. She wanted them to do what they loved without her getting in the way and without people taking advantage of the, That was one reason she hadn’t informed Brian about them. She had told him that they were into music, she just hadn’t been specified on how they were.

He thought his bandmates were hard to handle, he had yet to meet her brothers and their bandmates. Now, they were something else.

Ed looked over at Y/n, a concerned look on his face as he waved his hand in front of her face. “Earth to Y/n.”

Shaking her head, she focused on him, “Sorry, what?”

“I was just telling you how we’re going to be in the studio tomorrow,” Darrel informed her. “You’re welcome to come if you’re not busy.”

She clapped her hands together in excitement. She always enjoyed watching them work as music seemed to flow through their blood. “I have tomorrow off, so I would love to.”

“Great. We’ll pick you up then… oh, around noon.”

The next day, Y/n was sprawled out over the couch, new book in hand, waiting for her brothers to come get her. Generally, she would walk to the studio as it wasn't too far from her place, but as they offered her a ride, she couldn’t say no. She turned the page, glancing at her watch, it was 12:22, they were late. Y/n grabbed a random piece of paper off the coffee table and shoved it in her book to mark her place before she tossed it on the couch.

If they weren’t going to stick to their word and be punctual then she decided that she would walk to the studio. Going to the door, she slipped on a pair of flats and a leather jacket that James had bought her while they were touring in America. She was just out the door, when Ed pulled up in his beat up car. Y/n shook her head, he had more money than he probably every dreamed he would have yet he couldn’t buy himself a new car.

“You’re late,” she stated as he hopped out the car to open the passenger door. “Where’s James and Darrel?”

“I’m sorry ‘bout that.” Y/n slide into the car, the door shut once all body parts were out of the way. “Little disagreement at the studio. Darrel and the boys are trying to keep the place from being torn apart. And James… Well, he’s being a drama queen.”

She nodded as Ed turn the car on and pulled into the streets. Most of the bands fights were like that. Every day they seemed to get into a fight where at least one thing was broken. It was funny, though, how even after every fight, no matter how harsh the words were, everyone still came back the next day. That was probably because they wanted to continue the fight, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that each day they were able to put aside their differences and get along for a little while. That was something Y/n admired them for because they could have killed each other by now, but they hadn’t.

Even if their mother wasn’t proud that her sons were in a rock band, she should at least be proud that they haven't killed anyone. Yet.

The drive to the studio was quick, everything passing by in a blur. Probably because Ed had a lead foo, which had gotten him in trouble on more than one occasion. Y/n hopped out of the car and followed her brother into the building. The entrance of the studio was nothing grand. It was like the sitting area of a run down hotel. The air smelled of mold and dust, while the couches that were pushed against the wall had been eaten at by moths. But as they walked down a corridor, the place started to look clean and well kept. The walls looked like they had at least been cleaned once that decade, if not twice, and the smell of mold and dust turned to liquor and cigarettes.

Ed stopped in front of a door and turned to his sister. “I have to warn you-” Shouts from the other side of the door started to seep through the cracks. “-it could get pretty ugly.”

She shook her head, laughing. “It could get pretty ugly?” she questioned. “Isn’t it always pretty ugly?”

At the sound of something on the other side crashing to the floor, his eyes went wide and he shook his head. “Yes, but this is probably worse. Richard-” Their manager who had been with them from the start. “-thought it would be a great idea to work with another band for a song or two.” He flinched as something hit the door. “He was wrong as James can’t seem to get along with the bands drummer and Brant and Cliff don’t like the song that the other band wants to record.”

Y/n looked at him in shock. Of course, the one day that she has off, the one day that she can do whatever she damn well pleases, is the day that they want her over only to start fighting as she arrives.“Why’d you invite me then if it’s a war zone in there?”

He sighed. Y/n could tell that he wasn’t looking forward to opening the door. “I had no idea it would be like this! But-” He brought his fingers to his chin, drumming them. “-since you’re here… maybe you could, I don’t know, end this.”

Y/n gave him a confused look. She didn’t want to know what he meant by end it.

“You know,” he started. “You could tell James to shove it, as I think he’s the problem (then again, he’s always the problem), and you could go over the song that the other band wants to record and if you like it then we like it.” He smiled at her, waiting for some kind of response.

The response she gave was opening the door to be met by a full force of chaos. She grumbled to herself as she took in papers that were scattered on the floor, shards of what once were coffee cups, and James being held back by Darrel and Killian as he yelled at a blond man that she could only assume was the other bands drummer. The other drummer was being held back by one tall lean man. For a second Y/n recognized him but her brain wasn’t given time to tell her if she really did as her attention turned to her brother who was swearing like it was the national anthem.

Taking her jacket off, she pushed it into Ed who caught it without taking his eyes off of the men in front of him. The rest of her brothers’ bandmates that weren’t involved in trying to keep James at bay and two others, who she could only assume were members of the other band, did the same. They probably all wanted it to end so they could go back to whatever they were doing, but they all wanted to see who would win. She, on the other hand, didn’t care who won as she seemed to always be the last resort when it came to peace keeping. She wasn’t quite sure why that was. Ed and Darrel told her that it was because she had good taste in music, generally always going with their songs or melodies, and knew how to bring James’ ego down a few notches, which was often a hard task. Y/n honestly thought it was because she had mastered the art of getting what she wanted from her brothers at a young age. If she wanted them to stop fighting, with a bat of her lashes, they stopped fighting. She had them wrapped around her figure and they were oblivious to it.

“What are you gonna do?” Ed whispered, placing her jacket on a hook next to the door.

A grin slowly grew as she eyed the drums in the recording booth. James absolutely hated it when anyone touched his drummers. Especially her after she broke one on accident a few years back while they were recording an album. It was purely an accident but he won’t hear it and told her that if she ever touched his drummers, ever played them, ever looked at them wrong, he’d throw her in the Thames.

“Oh,” she smiled. “I’m going to see if James is a man of his word.

As anger boiled between the two drummers, each getting harder to hold back, Ed ran in front of James as he slipped out of Darrell's grip, catching him before he could reach the blonde. Y/n walked around them as the two men kept insulting each other. She slipped into the recording booth and picked up a pair of drum sticks that her brother had carelessly left lying around. He really should have known better as she took joy in pissing him off.

Going onto the drum stand, she sat behind the pile of drums, twirling in the chair. Peering into the sitting room, she could still see that they were going at it as no one had noticed that she had left. They probably hadn’t noticed that she had even arrived either. No matter, she raised the drum sticks and began the to play one of the only songs that James had taught her before taking away her drumming privileged: I’m Just A Singer (In a Rock and Roll Band).

Upon hearing the beat of the drummers, James turned, wide eyed, to see his sister behind his drums. “Great! Just great!” He threw his hand in the air before storming into the booth. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief as he stormed out of the room. The blonde man was pushed back by his bandmate to keep him from following.

Y/n gave James an innocent smile as the booth door slammed against the wall and he approached her.

“I thought I told you, Y/n/n. You. Don’t. Touch. The. Drums.”

She laughed, putting the drum sticks down and coming out from behind the instruments. “And I though,” she got face to face with him, poking him in the chest as she spoke. “That. Mum. Said. It’s. Ungodly. To. Fight.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, “Did you go deaf or something? Because I think mum would have decked him.”

She shrugged as she ran her hand over Ed’s gitar, moving around him. “You know, I honestly think the only thing mum would do,” she paused as she reached the doorway. “Is give you all hair cuts.”

James snorted as Ed snickered from behind her. “It’s not funny,” he growled, glaring at his brother.

Y/n nodded in agreement. “And neither is acting like a child,” she proudly stated before turning on her heels and taking a seat in one of the office chairs next to the recording equipment.

Brian watched as the woman sat in front of them with his jaw on the floor. He hoped to god that he was only seeing things. So far, the day had been rough and he hoped that it wasn’t going to get any worse.

“She’s quite a looker, Bri, but she’s the enemy here. So, pick your jaw up,” Roger whispered to him. The blonde had clearly understood that she had something to do with the other band. He didn’t seem to care that she put a stop to the argument he was in.

Brian didn’t give much thought to what Roger said as he adjusted himself so he didn’t look like a fool. He probably would later, anyway.

“I think that if James keeps acting like a child-” The woman spun to face two of the men, Ed and Darrel. “-then you should just kick him out of the band. Lord knows he’s not a very good drummer and that temper.” She clicked her tongue. “Makes him as dangerous as a bull in a china cabinet,” she said, spinning to look at the man still in the booth, trying to calm his rage.

Brian knew when Freddie asked them if they would consider working with another band that it wouldn’t go very well. He knew that with Roger’s attitude and their style of music and Freddie’s ability to only do what he pleases, they would butt heads with the other band. But he did not think that he would have to pull Roger off of someone and on top of that, he did not think that he would know the woman that took control of the situation. Let alone be the same woman that he had taken to bed multiple times.

“Haha. Very funny,” a member of the other band muttered, picking up the loose paper on the floor. If Brian remembered right, the man’s name was Killian. Maybe. With Roger yelling in his ears earlier, he wasn’t sure if he remembered much anything. “But I think we are very fond of how awful James is.”

“Such a shame.”

Brian watched as the woman tensed in her seat, before running a hand over her face. He had a feeling that she realized just who the other band in the room was. “Well, that was fun,” Freddie clapped his hands. “Now back to work then.”

Spinning to face the men, the woman sighed. “You know, I just realized something,” she said, looking at Ed. Freddie looked irritated as she stole his attention.

“And what would that be, Y/n?” Darrel sighed, taking a seat on the couch on the other side of the room. Now Brian knew that he wasn’t seeing things. Not as her eyes lit up at the question.

She hummed before answering, “Well, it could be that I am slow on the uptake, but I’m going to blame Mr. Hot Head in there-” She pointed at James. “-for that. But first off, I wasn’t informed until I entered utter hell that you guys were recording with another band. Rude,” she pointed out. “And to think that I was in the loop. And not only that but no one even bothered to inform me what band you guys would be fighting with. I was forced to put the fire out. Which I don’t enjoy doing,” she stated matter-of-factly.

Oh, there it was. It was coming around the corner. The moment that Brian would have to face his fears and introduce his bandmates to his girlfriend. This was not the way he wanted to do it. He wanted to have them met over dinner, in a restaurant where everyone had to be civil. Or as civil as they could muster. Not in a recording studio that had seen better days, with Roger and James throwing insults at each other. It most certainly wasn’t ideal.

“Don’t you know, darling?” Freddie stepped in front of Brian and Roger pushing the two out of the way. “We are Queen.” He smiled at her, which wasn’t returned.

Y/n clicked her tongue, obviously not satisfied with his answer, which shocked him a little. Everyone was always not only satisfied with Queen, but excited by them. And the woman sitting in front of him was neither.

“Really?” She turned to Brian, waiting for his answer. She was kicking herself for not realizing he was in the room earlier. The damn hair should have been a dead give away. She didn’t know anyone else with curly hair like his. For that, she again blamed James as that is who her attention was focused on. Her favorite hotheaded brother.

Brian swallowed as everyone turned to him. His face turned red as Y/n glared at him, waiting. “That-that would be right. We… we are Queen.”

Ed looked between the two as Y/n drummed her fingers over the arm of the chair. She looked like she was going to eat him, a look she often gave when she didn’t get her way. A look that was often directed towards James. It seemed that everyone else noticed the look as his bandmates looked at each other, thinking that it was a good time to leave. “Um… Should we be worried?” Ed asked, looking at her, thinking that Queen would soon be down a member.

She shook her head. “No. Not unless Brian doesn’t formally introduce me to his bandmates, because then he will have to find himself a new girlfriend,” she stated, her eyes never leaving the curly haired man. “And women like me are hard to come by.”

Roger, Freddie, and John, who had been hiding in the corner trying to stay out of the chaos, all turned to Brian, shock written clearly on their features. They all knew that Brian was seeing someone, but they had no idea that she would have anything to do with the band that they were having trouble working with.

Clearing his throat and rubbing the back of his neck, he turned to his bandmates. “Guys, this is Y/n,” he gestured to her. “Y/n, this is Roger, Freddie, and John.” He pointed each out as she smiled up at them.

Y/n attention quickly turned elsewhere, however when Ed coughed, waiting for his turn to speak. Biting her lip, she knew that it would be a long day. With the look in Ed’s eyes and Darrel drilling holes into Brian, she started to wonder if she would even have a boyfriend at the end of the day. Maybe she should have mentioned to Brian earlier that her brothers were in a band. It wouldn’t save him from the threats he would receive, but maybe it would have made working with them easier. And maybe, just maybe, she should have at least mention to her brothers that she had a boyfriend. But more importantly, her brothers should have at least told her that they were going to be working with another band. That way she would at least know a little bit of what to expect when she walked into the studio.

[meaningofmotorsport]

Emilia Romagna Grand Prix Review

We didn’t believe the rain would come, after all the forecasts, as we have been disappointed many times before, however yesterday’s race definitely did not leave us underwhelmed, as the wet track gave us our fair share of chaos, all through the field!

As chaos erupted during the race, Verstappen was the only one to pretty much go mistake free, he did almost lose the car at the restart after the Red Flag, but otherwise was able disappear into the distance to get not only his first podium in Italy, but his first win too! Who knows which car was faster today between them and Mercedes, I guess it would have been rather close? Perez had an up and down weekend, Saturday was a stellar day for him, beating Max on merit, with his first ever front row start, yet when the race came, he just couldn’t get the car to work on the damp track, so he struggled, fell back, and span a few times. I do think that in dry conditions he is getting to where he needs to be, which is key for him to stay with the team!

For the first time since I believe Germany 2019, we saw Hamilton make a mistake in the race today, which speaks for itself as to how good he is. After being beaten off the line by Max, with a forceful but fair move into Turn 2 in my view. Lewis settled in behind, showing better tyre wear than the Red Bull. Then after changing to slicks, and whilst making his way through lapped runners, Hamilton went on to a damp patch to pass Russell, who I don’t think has any blame in this incident. Lewis lost the car understandably on the water and skidded off the track, but got going, and with help from the Red Flag, was able to get back to P2, with his usual prowess. The move into Tosa was slightly impatient from Lewis, as he admitted himself, and I am sure he will learn from it. It means though that the title fight is on, with just 1 point between him and Max.

Before the horrifying incident, Bottas was having a horrible weekend, qualifying was a disaster, and he couldn’t make any progress in the race, even though we saw Lewis do it later on. If anything, the incident will help to mask his poor weekend, and the fact that he was battling a Williams on pace! Despite the outrage from George, talking about gentleman’s agreements, it does not really apply here. Yes, Valtteri did move, but it wasn’t erratic, he was simply staying on the dry patch, whilst leaving a car’s width for Russell. The fact that the pit straight is not straight does not help matters here. I don’t think Bottas is blameless, as he could have left more room given the closing speed, however it was more on George, who may have been surprised at the closing speed, and took to the grass. I am glad they are both okay, and hopefully they can both see where they went wrong. I am worried that the pressure of points played a part in this for George, or the potential of a Mercedes drive, he needs to cool off a bit I feel.

Simply brilliant drives from Lando and Charles today, the McLaren had better pace today I think, which was why he could hold off Leclerc on worn softs. It definitely makes up for the heartbreak on Saturday, in having the last lap deleted. He is really becoming a No.1 driver at the team, as they go from strength to strength. Daniel wasn’t going to be on pace with Norris today, given it was his first time driving the car in the wet, he did well not to spin and get some good points in sixth.

As I mentioned Leclerc drove well, doing his best in a car still improving from a terrible 2020, the extra downforce they had on the car helped early on in the race when it was wet. Yet it hurt them in trying to pass Lando late on. Sainz did struggle at times with the Ferrari, as you would expect, but had the pace at the end when he needed it. On the whole though, 4th and 5th must be pleasing for the team, as 4th in the constructors is a very realistic possibility!

Despite making the wrong call to start the race on Extreme Wets, Gasly was able to recover to 7th place, showing the car has pace. Even if the season had started well for them, I don’t think they can match the other two midfield teams ahead of them, so they can’t feel too hard done by! Tsunoda was driving well in the wet for most of the race, however sadly one mistake, actually while overtaking Hamilton, ruined it for him. He is very mature and quick, so he will bounce back from this I am sure.

Aston Martin’s day started terribly, with both cars having brake issues on the way to the grid, they were able to fix it, but for Vettel especially, it ruined his day. Stroll was able to fight back, and managed to secure some points, showing the car does have some pace! Alpine are lucky, they didn’t deserve points in that race, it was only though the Bottas-Russell crash, spins for Perez and Tsunoda, and a penalty for Kimi, that they got some. The team really needs to find some pace soon, as finishing top of the midfield back in 2018, feels like a long time ago now!

Alfa Romeo and Haas were not really able to take advantage of the conditions in the race, Kimi as I say was in the points at the end, however for some reason has been penalised. The good thing for them is that they are nearing the back of the midfield on pace, so points could be possible for them this year! Haas, with two rookies in the wet were probably getting ready for a rough day, although it actually wasn’t too bad. Schumacher was battling in the pack until he spun under Safety Car, and both drivers were only two laps down, which isn’t bad given how terrible the car is!

I really do feel for Williams, this was clearly one of the weekends that they had targeted to be quick at. Then Latifi crowds Mazepin on a straight, causing him to crash out, self-penalising himself really! Next George gets into the points, and is there on pace battling to get even more points, when he makes a mistake, ruining the team’s day! The only good thing, is that when the track does work for the car, they do have pace, which bodes well for other races this season!

Any worries that this race would be dull were dispelled 40 mins before the start, when the rain came down. Although we saw that even in the dry, with the extension of the DRS zone, overtaking was possible, so we got action in all conditions really! With Portimao next, another great driving and racing track, what craziness will we see there?

-M

[slouchyslouch]

black midi - Schlagenheim

Black Midi are a UK band that came out of nowhere. In a collection of different genres of math rock, post-punk, funk, and noise, Schlagenheim is designed to misdirect but captivate. Songs are constructed from spare parts, built up into a giant dome of magnificence, then blown up to shatters, only to be picked back up and rebuilt again. There is a lot of potential oozing out of these four lads that came out of BRIT school, a performing arts-focused education that has some notable alumni in the likes of Adele, Amy Winehouse, and FKA Twigs. It’s no wonder the band is so talented at creating something novel in a time of oversaturated music.

Black midi’s technical prowess has to be acknowledged with drummer Morgan Simpson leading the charge. From being a drummer prodigy when he was just a kid, Simpson has been actualized in the form of an experimental punk drummer behind the pandemonium that the rest of the band relays. On opener “953,” the energy of black midi is immediately palpable with Simpson fuelling the sound with a blast of odd time signature carnage. The music is robust and frantic, a kind of rush that pulls you in from different directions. Simpson’s playing sounds like drum fills being played as the backbone of the beat instead of breaks in the beat, carrying the track along with Geordie Greep and Matt Kwasniewski-Kelvin’s barrage of guitar distortion and Cameron Picton’s walloping bass.

The band’s range in different genres shows their vast array of influences. “Speedway” and “Reggae” take their influence from Talking Heads and their noise godfather Steve Albini. The songs shift the opening track’s frenzied mood into more freeform jazz-punk and danceable art rock. It’s a peculiar change that makes anyone think that this band is more than just blast beats and raw energy. They do come from a more formal music education after all, but feeling that shift gives these lads more musical clout than your average punk band. Returning to optimal disorder, “Near DT, MI” assaults the ears in fantastical ways. Picton leads the helm this time, referencing what can only be the Flint water crisis as he screams “I’m alive and I can see / The water is foul and it’s hard to breathe.” It feels like a protest song that would make Fugazi proud and leaves one completely breathless after its short two and a half minute span. Then, some western vibes — with Greep and Kwasniewski-Kelvin occasionally sporting a cowboy hat — centrepiece “Western” slows down to feel like waking up in the hot empty desert. It’s the band’s most most beautiful and eloquent track on the record, with alt-country guitars flourishing and developing into a steadier rock ballad with their signature shrouds of noise culminating to signify that they still come from avant-garde territory.

Greep’s unique yelps give truth to the saying that frontmen make bands. In the chaos of the music, it’s difficult to pull your attention away from his spastic vocalizing. Greep is just the cherry on top in the already eccentric instrumentation of the band. On the short snuff film that is “bmbmbm,” Greep snarls like a cartoon villain over a steady thumping beat and a sample that sounds like someone being tortured by Greep’s villainous persona. There is an overwhelming discomfort and tension that feels like something horrible is happening while the steady rhythm of the bass and drums act like a death march for a secret cult, preparing to make a sacrifice.

In the closing of the decade, as hip-hop takes the title of Most Popular Genre, rock music is seeking to take a left turn. As one of 2019’s best records, Schlagenheim breaks new ground, and knowing how old black midi are, it’s safe to say that the future of rock music is in good hands.

[doomedandstoned]

An Interview with UK Sludge Mongers SWAMP COFFIN

~By Shawn Gibson~

Let's take a moment to get everyone acquainted with you. Where is Swamp Coffin from?

Jon Rhodes (guitar/vocals): We’re from Rotherham, England. The armpit of the North.

Shawn Denton (bass): It’s a bit grim but it’s ours. Yorkshire is the best place in the world.

Dave Wistow (drums): It was either “Swamp Cough” or “Swamp Coffin”, it was a tough choice.

What are your favourite bands from this area?

JR: Disaster Forecast are a great fast hardcore band from Rotherham and there’s Bodach who are a riffy two-piece. Down the road in Sheffield there’s Kurokuma, Ba’al, Deltanaught and Blind Monarch. We’re lucky to have such a thriving local scene.

SD: Depends on how “local” you mean for the Area but if you think about a 15/20 Mile radius of us, there are the ones Jon has said, but we’ve also got Hidden Mothers, Temple Steps, Son of Boar, Gandalf the Green, Drawn from Ichor, Spaztik Monkey just far too many good bands. Not only that but we have some great venues and promoters such as Holy Spider Promotions, The Green Wizard, Circle Sounds etc who just make the scene thrive not only locally but are a linchpin to that scene across the country.

Why do you guys play sludge/doom? Would or do you play other music?

JR: I think we’re pretty lucky in that we can chuck in elements from a few styles into our songs and it still works. I’m a big death metal nerd so being able to add those sorts of riffs and vocal styles to the slow NOLA riffs we all love is perfect for me.

SD: I can’t play anything else. I’m self-taught and that’s just how my bass playing is. I love all sorts of weird and wonderful and varied stuff, but at the crux of it, I just love a big nasty groove.

DW: I’d have to hit the gym if we wanted to play anything faster.

Name a great book you have read.

JR: I like a good autobiography. Ozzy, Schwarzenegger and Bret Hart’s books are all great reading.

DW: Dragon Teeth by Michael Crichton, that’s the last great book I read.

SD: All of the releases by 27b/6 David Thorne is my hero. Such a wanker

What gear do you use and setups to create this badass heavy music known as Swamp Coffin?

JR: Volume and fuzz are the two main ingredients. I like old solid state amplifiers, a Big Muff, a couple of overdrives and then the signal is pushed even more by an EQ pedal so I’m hitting my amps as hard as possible. Guitar wise it’s a stock Telecaster copy with single coils.

SD: Don’t even get me started, big old solid-state peavey head and jazz basses. The pedalboard is mostly COG Custom stuff. He’s a local fella from Sheffield and is an absolute wizard. I run 6 drive/gain stages with various stacking and combos for different songs for a different feel. As a three-piece we need to make sure we can still achieve that WALL OF SOUND and for me, I need to make sure I can cover a broad frequency spectrum and cover some of the typically “rhythm guitar” areas to allow Jon that space and freedom to take lead sections without it feeling like something is missing. This is a section I could bore you on for hours.

Flatcap Bastard Features by Swamp Coffin

What are "flatcap features" and who are the "bastards" wearing them?

JR: I’ve always wanted our music to represent where we’re from. We were stuck for a name for the EP and did a thing on our Facebook asking for title suggestions. Flatcap Bastard Features stood out. To me, it invokes the area’s hard-faced steelworkers and coal miners. Also it gives us an excuse to use Sean Bean saying “Bastard” for our intro tape.

SD: Everyone is Bastard Features, just not all wear flatcaps.

What heavy bands influenced Swamp Coffin?

JR: Crowbar, Down, Eyehategod and C.O.C are the obvious ones but I’m hugely influenced by British extreme bands like Carcass, Iron Monkey and Labrat.

SD: For me, the obvious is Black Sabbath, but also bands such as Iron Monkey, The Abominable Iron Sloth, Deftones, Kyuss, Karma to Burn, Dozer, Truckfighters, Hangnail. I’m more from the Groove/Desert/Stoner side of things.

Who are some current bands that Swamp Coffin is listening to these days?

JR: Goblinsmoker’s first EP is still on heavy rotation. I’m a big fan of Conjurer, Employed to Serve, and Slugdge who are all doing different but amazing things for British heavy music. I’m always trawling Bandcamp for something new and horrible to listen to.

SD: Definitely not Tides of Sulfur. Fuck those guys. [editor: he was joking, they’re actually good friends.] I'm digging loads of underground bands at the minute, Battalions, VOW, Torpor, Wallowing, Hidden Mothers, Blind Monarch, Under. There are just so many good bands and so many good releases at the minute it’s impossible to keep up.

Tell me about an awkward time that Swamp Coffin has had?

JR: It took us near enough two years to find a bass player that would stick around for more than a couple of practices, that’s always awkward when they don’t want to come back! Shawn is as big a cunt as me and Dave so he fit in perfectly.

DW: Those two are always creating awkward situations, I just sit back and laugh.

SD: I feel most awkward when we’re turning down shows, especially when its promoters we don’t know or have a relationship with. It feels awful as we’re offered some really killer shows with some great bands, but we all have families and full-time jobs that we have to prioritise and plan around.

On your Bandcamp page your picture shows you guys messing around in the back yard and smiling. I love it and think we need more of that! People looking hard or like they are straight from Satan's asshole in these pictures sometimes!

JR: I don’t mind bands doing serious faces and folded arms, there’s always a place for anger in this genre, it’s just not us though. That picture was taken at a family barbecue at Dave’s house and is us just fucking around and having fun. I like that we don’t take ourselves too seriously.

SD: We play in a genre that at times, falls victim of taking itself too seriously. For me, this is fun, it’s a release and time to do it for me. I’m not a dark and miserable person. I love having a laugh, and taking the piss and trolling and winding up my friends. If you take a look at our Facebook page, as much as there is the serious promotional stuff, a lot of it is us having fun with the fans of the band and other bands we know and love.

Are you guys playing any shows or tours?

JR: 2019 was our first year as a gigging band despite us being together for three years now. We’ve played some amazing shows with some amazing bands so hopefully more of the same for 2020 and beyond. Our first gig of the year was with UK legends Raging Speedhorn in February in Sheffield, after that we’ll see where we end up. If anybody wants to book us on Bloodstock or Damnation we won’t say no.

SD: We’re not in a position to do a “tour” at the minute although never say never. Like Jon says We have Raging Speedhorn in Feb, which is a personal highlight for me and can’t thank Greg at Record Junkee enough for that show, and we’ve got a couple of others waiting to be announced. We’d love to play a few festivals, big ones and the small, local underground ones. For us though, it’s about playing shows with other bands we love and enjoy.

Something I like about your music is that it's heavy as hell and has a groove about it! Please tell me a little about your process for songwriting.

JR: Generally, I’ll turn up to practice with a few riff ideas and a rough idea of where I’d like the song to go and the overall vibe. I normally jam these out with Dave and we improvise sections until we hit on something cool. Shawn is the glue that holds it together and chucks his bass line ideas on top, brings the groove out and helps keep things interesting. Lyrically, I just try and scream about whatever is pissing me off at that point in time.

SD: Riff on the root and see what happens. Jon comes up with the bulk of the riff ideas, I’m not an ideas man, but I’m the sort of guy that once I hear the framework of something can come up with ideas and approaches to change and shape it. It kind of just happens, there isn’t a process of sorts. Just play until its right to our ears.

Hey Ho, Stolen Logo by Swamp Coffin

"Last of the Summer Slime" is my new jam! I love the end where it slows way down. Tell me about this song and was it fun to make?

JR: I loved recording Slime. We were bouncing a few ideas around for how to end it and Owen Claxton (who recorded the EP) suggested the ending you hear on the record, everything slowing down and detuning. It’s 13 minutes long so we wanted to almost reward the listener for making it that far with the ridiculous ending. The song is about my kitchen burning down last year and the shitstorm that followed it so there’s a lot of venom on that recording and when we play it live.

DW: I think we started out with that slow riff at the end, did we not. We built the whole song around getting there. It was pretty fun explaining to Owen how we wanted to record it.

SD: This is one that just happened naturally. I really wanted to try some stuff down-tuned a step further to A, we started jamming and then there was a song. It just kind of happened. But as Jon says, the ending is all Owen, great idea of his to fuck with things in that way and fuck with the listener. I think he captured us, our approach and who we are extremely well there.

What is in the future for Swamp Coffin?

JR: We’ve got a few tracks lined up ready for a follow-up record and we’ll hopefully be in the studio mid-next year. There are a few more gigs lined up and we’d love to try and get on some festivals. After that, who knows? We’re just enjoying taking each day as it comes.

DW: Beer?

SD: Who knows, it would be good to get a release out there on a small independent label. Vinyl would be nice but who knows. Mostly it’s just taking it as it comes, play the gigs we want to play and hope people like it.

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[sailolive93-blog]

The best Guide to Reddit Marketing around 2019

"Yep, i do all my modelling in C4D as I just know the tools so well there. I do minimal retopology in Zbrush on organic shapes but any hard surfaces I make in C4D. I'd recommend the "Introduction to Subdivision modelling in C4D" by Shane Benson on Vimeo (he goes by Sheppard O'Neill on YouTube if you prefer that) and it was his tuts that got me into box and subdiv modelling.

I'm also releasing a modelling workshop in C4D and models from the kitchen scene that these belong to will be in there to learn. Just not these two as they belong to marketing for the workshop. very well "Brand new Reddit account with two extensive comments defending Boa Vista Orchards huh...? We joked earlier about spotting the Boa Vista account in here but it looks like we actually have lol! > I just talked to the dude who does the marketing for Apple Hill and he sent me this So you just randomly talked to the guy and he emailed over his entire statement...? " "I too wonder why they didn’t just create a new line and call it the mach-e instead of mustang, I believe it has something to do with the marketing department since they knew it’ll stir a lot of discussion" "Precedent suggests it depends on the marketing around the product being sold and the implied purpose. " "Wow, ha. The fact that you think that it’s ok for the government to strip away my personal health insurance so that I HAVE to be on the same shitty plan on everybody else is crazy. If healthcare is “free” and universal, the quality of healthcare is bound to decrease. I can choose to pay for whatever the fuck I want and whatever healthcare I want. I give to charity and I have plans on giving a lot more to charity as I get further in my career and start making more money. Believe it or not, you aren’t the only one that cares about people just because you want “free” healthcare for everybody. And there is also no such thing as free healthcare. It has to be paid somehow and middle class taxes will go up no matter how complicated you try to make the source of payment sound. And regarding free college, that will also raise middle class taxes. You keep bringing up this. 02% of financial transactions bullshit as if that’s going to cover all costs. Have you done studies on this yourself? Do you even know that? You act like all these things can be magically paid for without anybody in the middle class being negatively affected. I have a bachelor’s degree and I didn’t feel like college was very challenging. It was more like a series of annoying classes I didn’t need when all of college could have been boiled down into one year of the core classes of my major of marketing. College is a fuckin scam and it’s only truly necessary for a very limited amount of majors. You’re just another minion that kisses the feet of big-government Democrats that try to make us feel like horrible people for not allowing them to sucks insane amounts of money out of the economy and spend it how they would like to. inch "That's including the localization teams for every language though, as well as PR and marketing. >! Some of them might even be legacy accreditation for the Gen 6 models they're *still* using.! < " "Time is a cost and you should track where that cost is going. That said, if you are working on general administrative/nonbillable stuff within your own department, it's pretty easy to have that time automatically go to the right cost bucket, so generic entries for that sort of thing are fine imo. The stuff that really has to be tracked is anything for clients or for departments that are outside your default (e. g. engineer writes a blog post, that's marketing time etc). micron "I believe there are some lessons on Google Academy for Adss (now called Skillshop) but hands-on experience is tricky. Two ways are possible, 1) is for you to have your own website and use Google Ad Sense, but this is more from the advertiser side rather than publisher or technical side 2) ask a digital or marketing agency that is near you if you can shadow/assist/internship/work experience for a week or so. This may be difficult depending on where you live and agency people are always very busy, so if you do ask tell them how you could help THEM not the other way around. To be honest, start with Analytics and Paid Search as they are arguable more accessible and have more out there for you to learn" "We are in the same boat, but different industry. Here's my approach, starting this week: I'm joining business groups that my target clients are a part of, for example, manufacturer groups. Then I'm going to target that organization with our services. I'm then going to offer to speak about the service I offer and how it helps businesses. Not a marketing spiel, an educational talk. Good luck" "One might consider a lawsuit if a car or alcohol company advocated or implied the action of drinking and driving in their marketing" "This post has been removed for breaking Rule 1. No Spammy Titles. Do not mention anything about selling anything in the title. Absolutely ZERO marketing in the title. Do not even ask for people to contact you for more. Be enticing. Post quality pics with quality titles. Read the rules for info on how to market yourself here. If your posts keep getting removed then you will be banned. READ THE RULES! *I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Remember to[contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/? to=/r/feetpics) if you have any questions or concerns. *" "I came of grew up and came of age in Chicago during Jordan's time with the Bulls and the shortest answer is that it's almost incomparable because the level of fame basketball players before Michael Jordan was laughably lower than now. Even today MJ has a logo that might be more identifiable than the company that created it. I would argue no athlete in any sport has surpassed MJ's level of fame. MJ pioneered so many avenues of endorsements, its like comparing planes in the era of propeller planes with jet planes. Jordan like most greats, stood on the shoulders of giants, specifically Larry Bird and Magic Johnson. Those two spent the better part of the late 70's and early to late 80's dominating the sport of basketball. Also add in Isiah Thomas of the Pistons and arguably "Dr. J" Julius Erving of the 76ers and those four were the superstars of the four teams that won EVERY NBA championship of the decade. Before Michael Jordan won his FIRST NBA Championship in 1991, he was arguably bigger than all of them. Before MJ, being a big name athlete meant getting your name on a breakfast cereal box called Wheaties, and doing the commercial saying the plug line "Gotta eat your Wheaties! " That's not a joke. Check 'em out on youtube, they're cringe worthy. MJ's meteoric rise in my opinion was helped by a few special advertising campaigns. I think first would have been his Nike commercials with Spike Lee, another pioneer. He just made "Do the right thing" at a time when black people making movies with black people in the movies wasn't really a thing. Spike Lee also happens to like playing characters in his own movies and Mars Blackmon was a character in that movie that Spike Lee chose to portray in a series of commericals with Michael Jordan. Again, pardon me for repeating, but I have to say it again for context. You have a supremely talented and charismatic young athlete being marketed by a young shoe company (Converse Chuck Taylors were still THE basketball shoe) hiring a visionary and ground breaking director to do something that had not been done before. And they crushed it. Again, at this time Michael Jordan wasn't winning NBA championships. He was having savant level performances, but get bounced out of the first round by the Celtics, or getting manhandled in the playoffs by the Pistons. By the time he did win it all in 91, MJ was doing things that no one had done in fields well outside basketball. Michael Jordan in Flight is one of the first videogames to have 3D. He had already supplanted Dr J in the one on one basketball video game with Larry Bird. Gatorade put out a marketing campaign with the song "Be Like Mike" and that song was the top song for the summer of 92 in Chicago on most radio stations regardless of genre. You're already familiar with Space Jam, but before Space Jam, the Looney Toons were relegated to afternoon after school syndicated (rerun) television stations. Michael Jordan made Bugs Bunny cool again to a whole new generation that knows of them only through MJ. I hope that helps. inches "Yeah I don't want to turn it around and criticize Musk over this or anything, but Tesla is great at PR and marketing while convincing people they don't actually try to be. inches "No, you dont need more parties, you need to ban all parties and establish government funded elections where everyone with a certain amount of support by the people can run using government money and marketing channels. Equal funding, equal marketing, equal candidacy, by the people, for the people. Sounds too good to be true? Well fuck you, because parties are corrupt barbaric cavemen shit. " " Funny Cartoon Images for website content - Family Funny Images and illustrations, Ultimate single panel funny cartoons used for websites, social media and emails https://www.freecartoonsdaily.com https://www.cartoons.cafe   www.cartoons.cafe www.acmeblanks.com sign up now! Funny Cartoons, Funny family cartoon images, Custom Cartoons, Niche Cartoons, Humorous Illustration Services, Business Cartoons, Medical Cartoons, Custom Comic Strips, Book Illustration Services, Political Cartoons, funny hospital cartoons, cartoons for marketing, corporate cartoons, work cartoons, business cartoons, Computer Cartoons, farmer cartoons, farm cartoons, tractor cartoons, Pig cartoons, pig farmer cartoons, cor farmer cartoons, wheat farmer cartoons, soybean farmer cartoons.... inch "That's including people associated with the marketing and promotion of Sword and Shield, which means people at Nintendo and the Pokemon Company rather than actual programmers at Game Freak working on the game itself. The same article you're looking at gives 200 at Game Freak - which is likely wrong since Game Freak had 143 employees, and Game Freak openly stated most were working on Town. You could include the modelers from Creatures Inc, but given that the models are the same as those developed for X and Y by Creatures Inc years ago, they are likely still being credited for "work" on this game that was actually done quite some time ago. " "Imagine what a lucky break JonTron was for FlexSeal. Their products are actually pretty decent, but their marketing was almost typical infomercial stuff that no-one over fifty would've seen. Next, out of nowhere, some YouTuber makes them famous amongst younger customers. People make "that's a lotta damage, " and "I sawed this boat in half, " memes. Everyone knows who they are. Chances are, when you need some stuff like this you'll at the very least know about their existence and you might buy their stuff because at least you know they're legit. Some people will buy it when they need something like that, literally for the meme. All they have to do is keep the ball rolling with tweets like these (because, of course, people actually follow them on Twitter now). " "That's my point. The pub you linked to is disney land. I'm looking for somewhere that recreates the  a more authentic historical experience. I think these places have got their marketing wrong which is why they are closing. They should be trying to recreate an experience closer to that in the Pathe news reel. If you just sold fresh baked bread, potted Hare, a variety of local ales you could heat with a poker while smoking a hilarious pipe you could capture a huge slice of the real ale / hipster / foodie market. " "No game in the genre had been competition for the Diablo franchise since it's inception. D3 no matter how you look at it was a huge commercial success being in the top 10 video games sold of all time at one point. Diablo now has become what WoW was before, tons of games saying they are a WoW killer and none of them doing it. So now we looming at Diablo killers but they all end up falling off somewhere because they don't get the same $$$ support / marketing. inch "8M opening weekend bad = bad marketing. Bad quality movie would be revealed in the multiplier (word of mouth and no rewatches). In this case I don’t think there was anything compelling from the movie they could focus the marketing around which led to the 8M OW. " "I’m in the same boat. I have to get 14 credits by may2020. In the last 2 weeks I did principle of marketing 3 credits score 66 and principal of management 3 credits score 62. This week I’ll take precalculas which is 5 credits and calculus which is 4 credits. I did not pay the $89 for the test because I did modernstates which pays the testing fee. It also reimburses me for the $20 testing fee" "Marketing. McAf€€ gets money from users, Micro$oft gets money from McAfee. They beget the green, motherfuckers that they are. Sometimes  http://tipofmytongue.topreddit.info  who install 3^^rd party stuff tho, it's not only Microsoft. Anyway, it's a motherfuckery of bloatware if not malware. "McAfee antivirus is one of the worst products on the planet" -John McAfee" "You're arguing entirely from marketing hype instead of actual quality, which is entirely stupid and comes down entirely to Sont having far greater of a userbase and them having less games to pump more money behind. Besides, let's not pretend Sony has an actual library of games here. Both Xbox and Sony have completely shit the bed this console generation in terms of exclusive libraries. Sony has had like, 8 good games this entire generation as exclusives. You have Death Stranding, Uncharted 4, Horizon, Until Dawn, Bloodborne, God of War, MLB The Show... That's about it? I guess you also have Detroit and Last Guardian depending on who you ask, but I defo don't wanna throw Days Gone on that list. But in any case, you could lump all of those games into loke 3-4 genres. Am I missing anything? But yeah, stop saying dumb shit like "Well its not a household name so its irrelevant" because you're entirely missing the point and reducing the entire industry to what can or can't be marketed. As well, its telling that Sony has stated their goal next-gen is to have less games release but have them be bigger, where Microsoft is going the opposite direction. Keep the the big titles, bur also have a little something for everyone. Diversity is important. Your Battletoads reboot might not sell as well, but its important to folks who like it. Games shouldn't be live or die based on how well they fit in established and marketable trends. Its absurdly reductive" "I actually never had injected one, whats the main difference? And is it really a big improvement or rather a marketing bait" "It’s all part of his NYC persona. Marketing. inches