#like a rock and a beacon and a fucking north star

[pameluke]

.

[gerogerigaogaigar]

Dolly Parton - Coat Of Many Colors

The 70s weren't particularly kind to country music, but Dolly Parton stands out as a shining beacon amidst a fog of mediocrity. The title track is a beautiful story about a mother's love that is apparently a true story from Parton's childhood. From there we immediately get a song where the singer's mother steals her boyfriend. It kinda goes like that, either beautiful sincere tracks like Coat Of Many Colors and Here I Am, or unrelenting savagery like in Traveling Man and If I Lose My Mind. I would never have it any other way. Go off queen.

Tracy Chapman - s/t

Ready for some emotional devastation? This album comes out the gate swinging and doesn't let up. This album's theme is feeling helpless to change your circumstances. Fast Cars is about trying to run away from a toxic environment only to recreate it. Behind The Walls is about being unable to stop domestic abuse even when you know it's happening. Mountains Of Things is about being trapped by commodity fetishism despite knowing it won't help you. In all these songs systems prevent individuals from improving their lives. The message is nothing without the actual substance of the music though, so it's fortunate that Chapman has one of the best and richest voices I've ever heard. And her brand of folk rock is beautifully complimentary. Lefty music doesn't get much better than this.

Bob Dylan - Freewheelin' Bob Dylan

It may be his second album, but this is his real debut. Bob Dylan proved that you could be a shitty singer, mediocre guitarist, and atrocious harmonica player, but if put together the right way then the sum of the parts is worth so much more. Dylan's combination of traditional folksy numbers like Girl From North Country and Don't Think Twice It's All Right are matched with the political statements that made him a counterculture icon. Masters Of War may seem blunt and obvious by today's standards, but it's stark condemnation of war mongering politicians is still pretty brutal. And A Hard Rains A-Gonna Fall is proof of his ability to write lyrics that express abstract feelings rather than direct thoughts.

Herbie Hancock - Head Hunters

I feel like when people think of jazz they don't tend to think of catchy toe tappers. There's an expectation for it to be a fairly serious genre that is hard to "get". Herbie Hancock threw that idea right out the window when he made Head Hunters the most fun jazz album of all time. The funk influences are extremely apparent with each track featuring an extremely punchy drum beat and juicy fucking bass lines that will get permanently stuck in your head. Everyone is nailing it here but obviously Hancock himself is the star player with his electric piano and clavinet solos having the brightest and bubbliest tone I've ever heard and it just cuts through the mix and delivers pure joy to your ears. Without a doubt one of my favorite albums of all time.

Pink Floyd - Piper At The Gates Of Dawn

When I was in high school one of my friends just fucking loved the song Bike and sometimes we would just burst into it whenever or wherever. Like all of walking somewhere and we'd just start up like "IVE GOT A BIKE YOU CAN RIDE IT IF YOU LIKE!" full fucking volume like a bunch of animals. Anyway this album is fanciful as all hell. Gnomes, scarecrows, bikes, kitty cats named Lucifer Sam, and bedtime stories. This album is delightful. It exudes innocent joy like no other album. Songs like Astronomy Domine and Interstellar Overdrive sound spacey not because they sound peaceful like floating in space but explosive like a rocket taking off. Other tracks will sound like campfire songs. It's beautiful. The end of Bike where the album closes out on a disjointed series of cacophonous clanking was my first introduction to noise as music so that song probably ruined me permanently.

Devo - Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo!

One of the original punk bands even if you wouldn't normally think of them as such. Devo did everything in their power to be weird little freaks. Jerky, stuttery guitars and rigid drum beats all designed to sound as mechanical as possible. It an amazing achievement that is perfectly exemplified by their awkward but brilliant cover of the Rolling Stones' Satisfaction. There's a general sense of 50s rock and roll filtered through the 'came back wrong' trope. The album lumbers along like it's made of de evolved rock music.

Elton John - Honky Château

This is probably Elton John's most cohesive album. The country rock of Tumbleweed Connection meets the dramatic arrangements of Madman Across The Water. John's songwriting partner Bernie Taupin is also at the top of his game on this one. Obviously everyone loves Rocket Man, it's iconic for a reason, by good god is the song I Think I'm Going To Kill Myself funny. I'm serious, this tongue and cheek song about teenage angst is one of the funniest things I've ever heard. I'm kinda blown away at how good Elton John, a British man, is at doing honky tonk and country music too. Too talented of a guy really. Love this album.

[hailbop1701]

25 Days of FicMas

December 15th prompt: Lost on Christmas and it starts to snow

Word Count: 1,986

Christmas Crash

Hi, my loves! I honestly don't know where I went with this. 😅 It literally ran away from me. But it's done and I think it's sweet in some areas. I hope y'all like it!

-H ❤🖖

You felt like you were drowning; the cold pierced your skin like a thousand needles. Your head pounded and your ribs ached. Swallowing back the bile creeping up your throat you let your eyes flutter open. The first thing you saw were the stars glittering above you; the next was the massive trees surrounding you. Groaning you placed some weight on your forearms in hopes of getting off the hard snowy ground. A wave of pain and dizziness hit you like a ton of bricks; lying back down in the snow panting you blinked a few times to get rid of black spots dancing across your eyes. “Okay, that was a bad idea,” you mumbled closing your eyes as a shiver rocked your body. ‘What happened?’ 

“Enterprise this is Galileo 7, we are going down! I repeat this is Galileo 7 we are going down! Transmitting coordinates to approximate crash site.” you spoke calmly into the shuttles comms and glanced over at your co-pilot. ‘You got it?” you asked and the young man nodded hitting buttons and switches trying to stabilize before planet reentry. A scream of fear erupted from behind you, looking back you saw that an ensign was panicking trying to get her harness on. Doctor McCoy was a few seats down trying to calm the girl but it clearly wasn’t working. Growling you unbuckled your own harness and stumbled into the back, your co-pilot Henry shouted after you but you ignored him. Grabbing onto the seating you gripped the Ensign by her shoulder making her sit back, pulling the harness up and around her you buckled her in and tightened the straps. She tearfully thanked you, “It’ll be okay,” you whispered to her reassuringly. “(Y/N)!” Henry shouted from the cockpit making you fly from beside the girl back to your seat. “Galileo this - please- ion-” the comms faded in and out, cursing you held the shuttle steady for as long as possible. Twisting the joystick Galileo just barely avoided the side of a mountain, “I can’t freaking see!” Henry called out to you over the sound of the engines failing. Glancing over your shoulder you see the people you’re supposed to look after, Ensign Talli, Ensign Kambry, Lieutenant Jalicy, and of course Doctor McCoy. He looked right at you eyes wide jaw clenched and almost pleading with you. “Brace yourselves!” you shouted before turning back to the controls. “Send the coordinates,” you said through gritted teeth. 

The shuttle crashed through a vine thick forest with a sickening crunch and boom. The world spun sending you into the air and back down into your chair. The shuttle skidded to a halt just before a cliff making you take a shuddering breath. Looking over at Henry you saw that he was doing okay; just scared out of his mind. “Check on everyone and make sure they get out of this tin can,” you jerked your head towards the away team. Henry nodded shakily taking off his harness, he practically fell from his seat. He scrambled to the back and helped Kambry open up the sealed shuttle doors; you keyed in the distress beacon and watched as the black box sprung from the shuttle into the glistening snow a few feet away. Turning your attention to the crew you saw that they were donning the survival gear. Doctor McCoy helped the tearful ensign Talli into her coat and out now open shuttle doors. Seeing that everyone was out you pulled your gear box from under the seat and started to pull things on as quickly as possible. Slipping on the thick coat you suddenly froze; the shuttle groaned and shifted forwards. “Oh shit!” you yelped stumbling over to the exit, “Lieutenant!” McCoy shouted going pale. The shuttle shifted forwards violently causing you to fall back away from the opening. “(Y/N)!” a voice screamed as both you and the shuttle fell from the cliff into a mass of trees. Gravity lifted you for the briefest moment and time slowed down; within seconds it all came crashing down. You knocked into the hull causing all the air to vacate your lungs another hit to a tree caused everything to tilt again sending you careening out the open doors. You crashed into a thick tree branch with a shriek of pain, your ribs cracking on impact. Your gloved hands tried to hang on but the bark was so slippery with ice you easily slipped. Falling you looked up the cliff face seeing the faces of the away team, they shouted for you but you couldn’t make out what they were saying. You landed with a crack barely even feeling the blood trickle into the snow you let the black take you. 

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

“I’m insane,” was all that Doctor Leonard McCoy could say to himself as he carefully scaled down the cliff face to the closest tree. “I am fucking insane!” he yelped falling two feet down onto a thick branch. Getting on his hands and knees he crawled towards the trunk of the tree, he looked down and gritted his teeth. Taking a shaky breath Leonard quickly but cautiously climbed down the tree until he hung precariously from the last branch. “Don’t worry Darlin’ I’m almost there,” he whispered looking down at your still form. Letting go McCoy fell a small distance before landing in a snowbank, “Son of a-” the man scrambled to his feet hoping to shake out the snow that went down the back of his coat. He snatched his medkit from the ground and rushed over to you, pulling off his gloves with his teeth he quickly checked your pulse. He let out a surprised laugh when he felt a fluttering heartbeat, he brushed the strands of hair from your face and grabbed his tricorder. Scanning you, he grimaced, “Cracked ribs two, five, and six on the left side. Broken three, seven, and five to the right side. Severe concussion, lacerations to the hands and legs. Sweetheart you are lucky,” he murmured with a shake of his head. Turning your head so he could see the deep cut on your hairline he couldn’t help but notice how pretty you truly were. Pulling out the portable dermal regen unit he ran it over your head, “I have to get you to the meetup point before you get hypothermia,” Leonard whispered looking around. The regen unit beeped declaring that it was done making Leonard look at your wound in the double moonlight with scrutiny, “I have to talk to Scotty about making the kit regen units better,” he scowled. Pulling a couple of heat packs from his kit McCoy cracked them and placed them in your pockets. He froze when you groaned from contact, “Lieutenant? (Y/N) can you hear me?” he asked leaning over you; he cupped your cheeks with his hands and lifted your eyelids a fraction. Hissing you batted at the hand with a scrunched-up nose, Leonard chuckled “There you go. Come on wake up darlin’; if you wake up I’ll buy you dinner,’” he urged.  “Doc-” you said barely above a whisper, Leonard nodded a smile gracing his lips. “We need to go, do you understand?” he asked and you nodded once. “Good girl,” Leonard whisper helping you sit up, once you were in a sitting position he helped you to your feet. With the sudden change of altitude, you coughed and gagged, expecting this McCoy held you up and kept your hair back as retched into the bloody snow. He rubbed your back gently whispering encouragingly in your ear, “Ugh Merry fucking Christmas,” you groaned clutching onto the CMO. The man holding you chuckled humorously, “I feel you there sweetheart,” 

“Where are the others?” you asked after another bout of nausea. Leonard pulled a water cask from his belt and offered it to you, “they’re going the secondary LZ. We’ll be meeting them there,” he said taking the water back after you were done. With a hiss, you pulled your tricorder from your belt, astonished that it was still in one piece you plugged in the coordinates.  “The secondary LZ is twelve klicks due north,” you pointed in the right direction. McCoy helped you along a couple of feet before your legs gave out beneath you, “sorry,” you panted struggling. Leonard grunted holding you steady, “It’s alright. Honestly, I’m amazed that you’re conscious and lucid,” he said with a smirk. You snorted “I never really followed the rules, though I’ve never really broken them either,” 

Leonard laughed bending down slightly he gently scooped you up into his arms. Yipping in surprise you flailed for a second before wrapping your arms around his neck. You glared at him annoyed; Leonard smiled and proceeded due north. “Why did you climb down to get me?” you asked quietly after thirty minutes of silence. McCoy contemplated his words, “you managed to fly us through an ion storm, through a tough reentry, in heavy cloud cover, with failing engines, and without losing a single person of the away team. It’s the least I could do,” he whispered. You gave a little shrug, “It’s my job doctor. I was just doing what I was supposed to do, get you all to the planet’s surface safety,” this made Leonard scoff. “It was damn impressive is what it was. Sulu would be jealous,” he muttered trudging through the snow. The statement made you laugh lightly, “Sulu is the best,” you chuckled. “I’m impressed that you’re carrying me the way you are, I’m not exactly light,” you added with a smirk. McCoy huffed “darlin’ I’ve been a doctor for some time and that means I’ve been haulin’ people around. Not to mention I played basketball and football in both high school and college,” he drawled his accent thick. You choked on a laugh the air coming out in white puffs, “and the Captain makes me train with him,” he shook his head. The smile fell from your face and your head bobbed, “I’m so tired,” you murmured. Leonard looked up at you with concern in his dark hazel eyes. “(Y/N) I need you to stay awake for me,” 

Your head grew heavier and heavier until it fell onto his shoulder, “adrenaline is gone,” you mumbled eyes drooping. Leonard shifted pulling you closer, “We’re almost there. Hang on,” his pleading fell on deaf ears. Picking up his pace he hardly noticed it started to snow’ what he did notice was the large searchlights from a Starfleet shuttle. Enterprise had finally sent help, “Merry Christmas sweetheart,” 

You felt so warm; like someone had wrapped you up in a hug. Resurfacing you heard the beeps and dings of monitors with the distinct smell of disinfectant. ‘Sickbay’ you concluded dreamily; opening your eyes you saw that the lights were dimmed and the ship had a sleepy atmosphere to it. “Bout time you woke up,” a southern drawl broke the sleepy silence, you looked over to see Leonard McCoy sitting on a stool at your bedside PADD resting on a knee. “How long-” you coughed; Leonard elevated your bed and helped you slip some ice chips into your mouth. “Three days. We all were pretty worried about you for a while,” he said with a tired smile. “Thank you for taking care of me,” you said gratefully. Leonard nodded almost embarrassed, “Yeah well that’s my job,” he parroted your earlier sentiments; it made you laugh weakly. “He’s been here three days too,” Christine Chapel announced walking by holding a tray of hyposprays. Leonard turned red, “thank you Chris!” he snapped. You barked out a laugh tilting your head back, noticing Leonard wilt a little you leaned over and took his hand, “I believe you owe me, dinner doctor,” you reminded with a wink. McCoy squeezed your hand gently, “darlin’ I owe you more than just dinner,” 

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@lauraaan182

@writerdee1701

@dw-writes

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[thecandywrites]

Jewel Of The North Part 4

Ok, so in writing this part, I imagined that while there is an art of reading actual tea leaves, I saw a picture of this plate on the left edge and thought ‘man wouldn’t reading tea leaves be easier if each squigly section was part of something? Like this section is the life section, this is the money section, this is the love life section, so on and so fourth’ you know, make it even more complicated than it probably is.Also I love and adore Indian jewelry, because that is a gold temple necklace. It’s just...gorgeous. And in my mind, a priestess of Aura (who I totally made up for this story) would be wearing a fabulous shawl, that heavy gold jewelry and a head band that would match and have something akin to an Asian tea ceremony and depending on which tea people chose- told the priestess about them, kind of like what your favorite color says about you. Also, LOOK AT THAT GOLD DRESS. Hot damn. Also as an LMT, Vahva Kun is NOT a thing. Again, something I made up. 

And of course a thousand THANK YOU’s to the fabulous and super fabulous and creative @monstersandmaw​ for sharing the concept of ice orcs with me. Me and my Alaskan born heart instantly fell in love with them. Enjoy!

Jewel of the North 

Part 4

In the morning, you pulled yourself from the bed and you felt like it was noon. Thank the gods for the time difference, because it was only 9 there. 

“Well good morning sleepy head, working miracles wear you out?” Taylor teased you as she handed you a cup of coffee. 

“Yeah,” you nodded as you took it and drank it gratefully. 

“So, what’s the plan?” Taylor asked. 

“Massages today, working with Noah tomorrow, after that…” You shrugged. 

“Happily ever after.” Taylor supplied. 

“Hush or you’ll jinx it.” You shushed her in a whisper but her scheming grin was infectious. 

It took all day but by 7pm, you had gotten everyone taken care of that you came to take care of and Taylor decided to get takeout for dinner and while at the takeout restaurant that was on the other side of town, the group of pilots came striding in. 

“That’s them. The other pilots.” Taylor breathed. 

“Who’s who?” You whispered back before she specified who was who before you had her shut up so you could overhear their conversation. They were going to get food here and then go for drinks at ‘the bar’ later. 

“What bar?” You whispered to Taylor. 

“Knowing them- it’s probably Goose’s, they have the cheapest booze around and it’s close to their apartment, like within walking distance.” Taylor answered.

“Goose’s is the seedy, underbelly place that I don’t want to go to the bathroom in? That has the awesome cheeseburgers?” You asked. 

“Yeah,” Taylor nodded as an idea bloomed in your head. 

“Are they attracted to women?” You nodded over to them. 

“Oh yeah,” Taylor confirmed before one of them wolf whistled to a group of women who came into the restaurant. Ah. Those kinds of guys. Almost too easy. 

“Could you take me there? I have an idea, it’s a dirty, underhanded idea though.” You whispered. 

“That means it’s a fantastic idea.” Taylor grinned. 

“What shoe size are you?” You asked. 

“9.” She answered. 

“Sweet, do you by any chance have any hooker heels?” You hinted. 

“Wait, wait, wait, you won’t have sex with Noah but you want to go to Goose’s in hooker heels? Every guy in that place is going to fighting for the chance to take you home if not fuck you senseless in the bar’s bathroom, if not the parking lot.” Taylor answered. 

“Oh trust me, the only one taking me home is you, I have a plan. How fast can you get dressed and dolled up?” You urged her. 

“Oh give me thirty minutes tops.” Taylor insisted. 

You got the food and barely ate two bites of it before you and Taylor quickly locked yourselves in her bathroom to get ready as you put on your most seductive makeup and a slimming undergarment under your sexiest dress that had the push up bra to end all push up bras as you brought and slipped into her hottest “hooker heels” while she wore the more sensible shoes you brought since you were the same shoe size as her. 

“How do I look? She-wolf enough?” You asked her. 

“Ah, I see, you’re going to eat them alive.” She realized. 

“Yup, my brother’s mother in law- Olga is a priestess for Aura and is Yamalian which is near Siberia and she nicknamed me Zahnochka Volchitsa which means ‘she wolf that rises again’ and just like Beyonce has Sasha Fierce, Zara Kingsley has Zahnochka Volchitsa, and Zahnochka is going to get them so wasted, they won’t be able to fly tomorrow which is good ol’ fashioned sabotage and when they can’t fly the loads, Noah will be there to pick them up and save the day.” You revealed. 

“Oooh, evil and diabolical but for the best cause ever- I love it.” Taylor nodded in approval. 

“Just don’t tell Noah, I don’t think he’d approve of my methods or like Zahnochka very much because I haven’t used “her” in a long time.” You urged her. 

“Lips are sealed.” She swore as she had you wear her fancy dress jacket to cover up so Greg wouldn’t see you or the kids. 

“Honey, Zara and I are going out for a drink, we’ll be back later.” Taylor told her husband as she quickly ushered the two of you out of the house and drove to Goose’s as you got in your wallet and slipped money into your cleavage on the way there so you wouldn’t really have to get your whole wallet out and chance any of them seeing your business card or your real... anything. Then you prayed to the gods for courage and hoped this gamble would be worth the risk to yourself and hoped this wouldn’t backfire and blow up in your face or bite you in the ass. 

Once in the bar you zeroed in the group of pilots sitting together at a table towards a wall, which was perfect and out of the way, just the way you liked it as a mischievous smirk danced on your lips.

 And then you locked your smoldering and seductive gaze with one of them who froze and stared back in awe like a deer caught in headlights as he watched as you strutted and sauntered into the place, your heels clicking on the tile and slowly slipped out of your light jacket to reveal your gold silk dress and made sure that every guy in the place with a pulse knew you were officially on the radar. You had an ability which you had perfected over your life, you called it the ‘Marylin Monroe effect’ because she had this gift that she could ‘turn on’ and she could transform from normal house wife to blonde bombshell right before anyone’s eyes and you had a similar gift and you were about to use it again. 

“What can I get you to drink Gorgeous?” The bartender John asked as he was grateful he was working tonight, and here he thought it was just going to be a normal week night with the same old regulars but low and behold, a brand new gem came walking in, you must have just come into town because you were a brand new face. Plus, you were clearly the hottest woman in the place, hell in the whole damn town and you were dressed to kill and obviously on the prowl and he was ready offer himself as your prey for the night. 

“What kind of whiskey do you have?” You asked as John began going through what he had, feeling a little embarrassed that they didn’t have a ton to choose from and what they did have, didn’t seem good enough for the goddess you were. 

“Give me some Jamie, that’s plenty good enough for me, on the rocks please.” You ordered.

“And you Sugar?” John asked Taylor. 

“Same.” Taylor agreed before John poured two very generous portions into glasses over ice and served them to you. 

“Thank you.” You thanked him.

“So I take it you’re a friend from out of town.” John hinted as he looked from Taylor to you. 

“That’s correct, I’m Zara Zahnochka Volchitsa Kingsley.” You introduced yourself, rolling your r’s and taking on a slightly Siberian accent with the roll of your own name off your tongue as you shook his hand. 

“John Wilks. Pleasure to meet you.” He shook it before it he took your hand and kissed it which got you to giggle bashfully before you pulled him towards you which caused him to lean as far over the bar as he could before you pulled a hundred dollar bill from your cleavage and slipped it into his hand. 

“Give me the lay of the land.” You purred as you twirled your finger subtly to gesture to the bar. 

“Uh, well, there’s…” He began as he listed off who was around the room, using the old ‘ 3 o’clock’ 6 o’clock’ method as you got the confirmation that all the guys at the table on the wall were the other pilots. 

“Could you do me a favor?” You requested. 

“Anything.” John offered.  

“Get me the darkest beer glass you have. Empty it so I can use it as a chaser cause I have a feeling every guy in this place is about to buy me a drink and I don’t want to get too drunk and when it gets full, get me a new one.” You proposed, your voice dropping to a low murmur so that only John and Taylor could hear you. 

“You got it.” John nodded in understanding as he got you the Milk of Dragon. Usually the beer is so dark and heavy it was black on it’s own but the glass was pitch black and you couldn’t tell except from picking it up if it had beer in it or not. 

“Are you ready to see a show?” You breathed to Taylor who nodded before you got the glass and pretended to take a long pull from it before you turned in your chair and Taylor watched as you seemed to turn something on inside you- up full blast like seeing a Hollywood star light up on the red carpet, it was like you were a beacon of light, but you were all fire and flames, burning so hot you could set the stool you sat on- on fire and every man in the place just became a moth and every man couldn’t help but be drawn to you and you were practically swarmed. 

"So what's your name Beautiful?" One guy asked. 

"Zara- Zahnochka Volchetsia- Kingsley." You introduced yourself, giving the same flourish to the name and putting extra emphasis on the middle portion of your “name” while quickly rolling through the real parts of it which they all ate up like candy. 

And instead of getting overwhelmed, you seemed pleased and basked in all the attention as you tried to give each guy in there just a few minutes of attention, remaining friendly and giving a little bit of your time to everyone so that no fights broke out for your attention, letting them spit game, each line greater than the last as your amused giggle filled the air and your smile lit up the dimly lit bar before the group of pilots came over and tried their luck and while their lines weren’t as clever as the others, you pretended to be the most affected before you offered your hand for them to lead you back to their table as you were sat down as the others grumped but watched on enviously as the group of pilots who weren’t all that handsome or all that impressive seemed to win your favor which didn’t make any sense to the rest of them maybe you just had a thing for younger guys. But you made your choice and they would respect it as Taylor sat next to you and just watched as the Zara she thought she knew was replaced by a full blown she-wolf. She didn’t know you had it in you but she knew why you were doing it and she had to respect the masterful way you were choosing to deal with the problem because no one else had the guts to do it this way. But it was genius.  

“So are all of you pilots?” You asked eagerly as you sat at the table, putting on your best doe eyes and making sure you sat in such a way that your cleavage was heaving with every breath as they all undressed you with their eyes. 

“Oh yeah, he flies…” Derek began to list off the different planes and you pretended to be impressed by it all as they ordered you drink after drink which was part of your plan, “chasing” it with your “beer” as you pretended to get tipsy, laughing at everything they said that was even slightly funny. 

“So what do you do? Other than look sexy as hell?” Evan asked. 

“Oh nothing much, just taking care of the estates and trust funds I’ve inherited when my grandparents died when I was younger, " You waived off and grinned when all their eyes practically got dollar signs in them and they were staring at you the way a hungry dog would look at a steak. Oh they would devour you the moment you let them. 

Perfect. 

“And I’m an LMT which stands for liscenced massage therapist, would you like a demonstration?” You purred. 

“Hell yeah, my body is yours to do as you wish.” Evan offered before you took his arm and started massaging it and giggled when he groaned and moaned in pleasure before you got a brilliant idea. 

“Well, as an LMT, I’m certified in using Vahva Kun, which all my body builder clients swear by and by using it, they build the biggest, most impressive muscles possible and it feels better than sex with the gods, would you like to try it?” You offered.

“Hell yeah,” they readily agreed as you went about using it on them as their moans and groans filled the small bar as you straddled their labs to get as close as possible to hit all these points in their bodies, leaving each of them feeling like a god themselves and the buzz they had already been feeling from the booze was amplified and they were feeling the most intense afterglow that did indeed surpass the afterglow after an orgasm as Taylor watched on curiously and only when you ordered another round of shots for the guys, this time of the 153, the strongest alcohol in the place, since you had massaged their necks and made sure to access their ‘sleeper mode’ muscles, then they took that last shot and promptly passed out and you used that to use their fingers tips to get into their phones and deleted the pictures they had taken of you in the compromising positions of their laps before you stood up and strode over to the bartender and slipped him another hundred dollar bill since by the time you were done, most of the other patrons had gone home for the night since it was past midnight and almost last call. 

“Thanks for looking out for me tonight, you may need to call a taxi or an uber for them. They obviously won’t be able to drive home.” You nodded over to the table before you strutted out of there with Taylor and while you weren’t drunk on alcohol, you were definitely drunk on power and the thrill of what you just did because letting your inner she wolf out to breathe and feed for the first time in forever and it felt amazing. 

“So what’s Vahva Kun?” Taylor asked as she drove you to her house. 

“Vahva Kun is short for Vahva Kun Olen Hiekko. It means ‘strong when I’m weak’. Body builders pay me a grand each to do that to them a week and a half before competitions to make every muscle in their bodies’ bulge. In massage there’s only a few ways of doing things, and that is- pain now- pleasure later or pleasure now- pain later and Vahva Kun is as intense as pleasure now pain later gets. The reason it’s so pleasurable now is I use the body’s tendon organs to “turn off” muscles from the nervous system, this gives the effect to the brain that the muscle has become completely relaxed which feels amazing in the moment. But when you turn a muscle off, especially prime movers or major primes, the muscles that are responsible for your major movements, that means they can’t work anymore because you just told them, via their tendon organs to go the fuck to sleep and go on a little vacation and they become completely unresponsive and they feel lighter than air at first. So while they’re out in la la land, and can’t hear a thing from your nervous system who’s screaming at them to move. So that leaves only the synergists and the little assistant muscles to try to do the job of the major primes which they are ill equipped and too weak to do but they try their best. So they end up bulging by the end of it because they have no other choice because your body needs to move. However another thing happens when you do Vahva Kun, the nervous system freaks out. Now we all know how ecstasy works, it floods your brain with endorphins and other feel good chemicals to the point of overwhelming it right? Well Vahva Kun does the same thing initially. So what you’re left with is a brain who can’t feel most of the muscles in their body and is overwhelmed with pleasure and it freaks out and how it does that is it suddenly feels that the pleasure is actually pain and that you’re being attacked but it only does the switch once you succumb to the pleasure and pass out and the switch happens during your first sleep cycle.” 

“So when they wake up tomorrow, they’re going to feel like they got hit by a mac truck and moving will be agony.” Taylor realised. 

“Oh yeah, and when you do Vahva Kun you’re supposed to drink at least two liters of water or preferably an electrolyte drink before you take your initial sleep because in turning off the major primes, they release all their tension and everything that was trapped by that tension in particular all the “toxins” and acids and things stored in the muscles and when you drink a diuretic, like coffee or even worse- alcohol, the toxins can be released from one spot of the muscle but simply move and spread within the muscle belly instead of getting flushed out into your lymph system which then delivers it to your liver and kidneys to be removed from your body. And once the switch happens, the brain then sends fibroblasts into all the major primes which is a heavy duty messenger to make sure it’s still there period and the fibroblasts are like little explosions of protein and collagen and other substances into the major primes. Well imagine what an explosion looks like now imagine that inside a striated muscles, the fibroblasts usually go any manner of either outright perpendicular or just plain not in the directions of the striations in the muscles. Which again, make the muscles bulge. It looks awesome when you’re done, but it feels like you were in the worst bar fight ever. And for first time receivers of Vahva Kun it can take up to a month for your body to fully recover and your body aches the whole time and it can take several hours after just to get all the new knots out of the muscles and usually body builders, the first few to several days after- they can’t hardly move, they have all these huge bulging muscles that look incredibly strong but are jack shit for strength and that’s why it’s called Vahva Kun- strong when I’m weak. It means they look strong but they are in reality, very weak.” You explained. 

“Vahva Kun was discovered by a prostitute, Jasmine Vahva, who was tired of being beat up by her clients and she found she could make a killing if she “massaged” them first using this technique, get them to pass out and steal them blind but then be gone before they could wake up and confront her. And she taught other sex workers this technique. But they only could ever do it to a client once and quickly word spread about the real “effects” of the massage and once the clients got wise to it it lost it’s “appeal.”, then the clients noticed that once they recovered, they physically looked amazing and so a few of them got into body building and then word spread and so you had the legitameate professionals going to Jasmine to learn this technique so that they could practice it on body builders which is a very lucrative discipline and her original friends who had been sex workers then got into the legitamate side of massage teaching Vahva Kun.” You revealed. 

“So you fucked them over without dropping your panties an inch.” Taylor laughed. 

“Yup, because those fuckers had the audacity to undercut Noah and put Noah and Sakura’s livelihood into jeopardy. A she wolf takes no prisoners when her den and pups are in danger. Even if she has to infiltrate another pack to do it.” You mused. 

“Hot damn girl.” Taylor praised as she high fived you.

The next morning Noah came down the stairs to find his mother already there making breakfast. 

“Good morning Mom.” Noah greeted sleepily as he shuffled over to the coffee pot before there was a knock and suddenly he was a million times more alert as he happily forgot all about the coffee to rush over to the door to open it. 

“Good morning.” Noah greeted you happily. 

“Good morning.” You greeted happily, sure that your dark circles under your eyes would scare the shit out of him but he didn’t seem to notice as he ushered you inside. 

“Good morning Nana,” You greeted warmly. 

“Good morning Zara.” Nana returned just as warmly. 

“How do you like your eggs?” She asked. 

“Over easy please if there’s toast.” You answered gratefully. 

“Did Sakura take it easy on you guys yesterday?” You inquired hopefully. 

“Yes, she didn’t wake up till 10, it was wonderful and you did such a fantastic job on the house, it was a really wonderful blessing.” Nana praised.

“Thank you, I did my best.” You nodded as you ducked your head. Appreciating the recognition. 

“I know you did, and it’s really appreciated, you have no idea.” Noah added with a proud smile that was making wish you could ask him to try to show it but with his mother there, that wouldn’t have been appropriate. 

“Go get ready Dear while I get breakfast finished.” Summer urged him and you saw the reluctant disappointment in his demeanor like a child who is told to go to bed when there was still company at the house and you could see he was about to argue but one look from her had his argument dying on his tongue before he begrudgingly pulled away and went back upstairs to hurry up and get ready as you got yourself a cup of coffee. 

“So, I thought for sure that you would have slept in this morning from eating five men alive last night.” Nana noted once she heard the bathroom door shut upstairs and the shower turn on which made you choke on your coffee. 

“Uh, how…?” You nervously asked as you tried to clean yourself up. 

“The gods see all and only they could have revealed that to me. It takes a she-wolf with nerves of steel to do what you did, and to walk away without a scratch is a feat in itself. Don’t feel guilty about it, you ensured not just Noah and Sakura’s survival but the best chance for all of us to thrive too. But I need to tell you that you need to keep the she-wolf out today, embrace your Aura heritage, it won’t scare off Noah, it’ll surprise him but it won’t throw him off or intimidate him. Don’t lose your nerve or your courage. You’ll need it to make your mission complete. Use your bag and your magnificent mind and I’ll help you with your hair.” She advised you as she held your face in her aged but warm hands. 

“Ok,” you agreed, feeling relieved yet validated and empowered before she kissed your forehead before you left just as Noah got out of the bathroom as you raced upstairs since you would need the bathroom’s larger bathroom counter to get ready and Noah looking like a god with just a towel around his waist was a delight. 

“Everything ok?” Noah asked. 

“Yeah, just had a really good talk with your mom, I need to finish getting ready though. Do you mind?” You asked as you gestured to the bathroom. 

“Not at all, but we gotta get going in like an hour or so.” Noah answered, disappointed because here he thought he would have an hour or so with just staring at your beautiful face. Even without makeup you were gorgeous. You didn’t need makeup. 

“Plenty of time.” You reassured him before Sakura woke up to the sound of your voice. 

“Paradise?” She asked sleepily as she opened her door before she saw you and immediately went to you and hugged you tightly. 

“Good morning Sweetheart, did you sleep good?” You asked her. 

“The best, I had the coolest dreams!” She eagerly told you. 

“Well I have to get ready for the day, but I need your bathroom up here to do it, you want to tell me all about them while I get ready?” You proposed. 

“Yeah!” She agreed as she took your hand and led you into the bathroom before she shut the door, leaving Noah feeling a little jealous he couldn’t be in there too but he got dressed and let you have your time with Sakura as he went back downstairs. 

“What did you talk to Para-I mean, Zara about?” Noah asked his mom curiously. 

“I encouraged her to embrace all of herself with you, and not to be scared of showing you all of herself or fear it will intimidate you or put you off. Everyone always tries to put for their best faces and the best versions of themselves to people they like and are trying to impress.” Summer hinted with a scheming grin. 

“And for that she had to put on makeup?” Noah questioned as he cast a look in the direction of the bathroom when he heard Sakura and you laughing. 

“She’ll explain it to you better once she comes down. She has to show Sakura first and Sakura’s approval will give her heart and courage to show you and some reassurance that she has nothing to worry about will be all you need to give.” She insisted. 

“But for now, eat, be patient.” She urged him as she handed him a plate of food before she continued to cook breakfast as Noah begrudgingly ate and drank his coffee as his knee bounced impatiently as his mother joined him at the table as Noah racked his brain trying to think of what it could possibly be. 

“Stop, you’ll imagine it way worse than it is.” Nana lightly smacked his arm. 

“Look, the only thing I can think of is she’s used to be a stripper or something like that.” Noah blurted before he got another smack, this one much harder than the first.  

“I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, at this point it’s a bonus.” Noah conceded before he recoiled from the third smack, this one even harder than the last as he rubbed his arm. 

“You’re going to feel like an ass once she comes down the stairs.” Summer chastised before right on cue you came down the stairs looking like a proper goddess. A heavy shall was wrapped around your shoulders and you were wearing gold and purple highlighter on your cheeks as your complexion was made to look much more amethyst purple instead of peacock teal it usually looked and your eyeshadow was a brilliant gold and purple and your jewelry was authentic priestess of Aura jewelry. He was dumbstruck by how magnificent you looked. 

“May I introduce Zahnochka Volchitsa! A minor priestess of Aura!” Sakura proudly introduced you, her freshly brushed teeth gleaming as her fresh braids that you had put into her hair showed off her silken tresses. 

“And what a stunning one at that.” Summer praised as she had you sit down to breakfast next to Noah as she got up and took your hairbrush from your hand and your special headband and beads from your hands. 

“Wow,” Noah breathed. “So, what’s the special occasion?” Noah asked. 

“Well, your mother wisely advised me to embrace my “she-wolf” and “Aura heritage” today. When I was 15, my older brother Gavin started courting his wife Natasha who we call Tasha, she’s Siberian and her mother Olga, is a high priestess to Aura and serves at the Sinai Temple in the Great Lakes, and the moment she met me, she adopted me and gave me a new name. The name she gave me was ‘Zahnochka Volchitsa’ Volchitsa is Siberian for ‘she wolf’ and Zahnochka means ‘she will rise again’. And she has insisted I was her new daughter and forbade her own sons from dating me because that would be ‘incest’ even though at the time her 13 year old son Nicoli aka- Nikki- had the biggest crush on me, but he’s married with kids and we’re friends so now so it worked out. But anyway, she taught me how to have teeth and claws and how to take no bull-er-crap from anyone and how to be a strong independent woman with all the spice and sass of a viper and if any man dared cross me or even take advantage of me in any way- how to eat him alive like a proper shewolf, how protect ‘my den and pups’ and how to turn other people’s stupidity into my own benefit and she taught me how to give blessings, read palms and tea leaves and all that. But it’s an alter ego for me, like how Beyonce has Sasha Fierce, I have Zahnochka Volchitsa. I thought if your clients saw how you were flying around a minor priestess of Aura, the goddess of gold, luck and riches, they’d be willing to do just about anything, including renewing contracts with a pilot they tried to undercut for the chance to get a blessing.” You hinted with nervous grin.  

“You don’t have to…” Noah tried to argue even though he was incredibly touched and so impressed by it. This was ingenious. Although as much as he wanted a blessing, he also knew that priestesses could not bless family. And since he desperately wanted to be your family, he would be satisfied with your presence to be blessing enough. 

“Yes she does,” Summer immediately countered. “And we deeply appreciate it and Sakura and I will pray for your success.” She insisted as she continued to fix your hair appropriately, braiding the headband into your hair and securing it so that you looked like a proper priestess with the traditional hair arrangement and no sooner had you ate than Noah got the first call from a client as you got ready by putting the shawl on to complete the look.

“Be good for Nana ok?” You urged Sakura before you left, giving her a big hug.

“Will do.” Sakura reassured you before you kissed her all over her face which made her giggle with glee before she did the same to you before you let go and hugged Nana goodbye, giving her a kiss on the cheek before you left. 

“My new Mama is amazing.” Sakura fawned as she watched the two of you go from the window and get in Noah’s truck as she grinned to see her dad open your door for you like a proper gentleman. 

“Yes she is. Now, come on, we got some prayers to give.” She urged her granddaughter. 

Once in the plane, you settled into the copilot seat with your backpack securely between your legs. 

“How much does all that weigh anyway?” Noah asked curiously as he eyed the gaudy gold jewelry as he got settled in himself. 

“About a thousand pounds.” You laughed. “It’s all real and solid so it’s quite heavy.” You revealed. 

“Could you do me a favor though?” You asked hopefully. 

“Anything.” Noah immediately agreed. 

“Could you wear this gold charm at least for today?” You proposed as you pulled the large gold charm on a masculine chain out of your velvet blessing bag that had previously held all the jewelry wrapped in the shawl and a tea set for a proper priestess tea ceremony.  

“As long as you won’t give me a formal blessing with it,” Noah specified. “I know priestesses can’t formally bless family members but your presence is blessing enough for me.” He noted which melted your heart and made you want to kiss him. You were ready to offer him a proper place in your family. But perhaps he was referring to the way you were with Sakura and meant that endearment fairly innocently. 

“That’s correct, but they can give gifts, if you wear this, your clients will assume I’ve already blessed you and will want a blessing of their own, a first link in the chain.” You proposed. 

“Ok,” Noah agreed before you turned in your seat and put it over his neck and being so close, you could smell the soap he used in his shower and his aftershave and just him in general and your brain got hazy with lust. But you feared it would be inappropriate and settled for simply kissing his forehead and offering him an adoring smile which he mirrored as he glanced from your eyes to your lips before a message came on his receiver which pulled his attention away. 

“Yeah,” Noah answered. 

“Hey could you swing by Corporal? I have a load for you this morning.” One of his clients radioed in. 

“Sure thing, see you soon.” Noah agreed before he hung up. 

“It’s working already,” Noah laughed. “That guy hasn’t had me fly a load for him all year, must be a big one.” Noah revealed. 

“Then let’s do his first.” You suggested. 

“Ok,” Noah nodded before he turned the plane on and began to taxi it out of the hanger and towards the runway before taking off and you bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from squealing. Flying was so fun!

Once up in the air you put on your blood red lipstick with gold glitter gloss over it as you had Noah tell you about this particular client. Cranky old man type.

Perfect. 

He landed the plane several long moments later and once taxied over to the loading area, you knew it was show time as you unbuckled your seatbelt and left the plane and grinned when an older gentleman practically came rushing up to you. 

“Noah! Why didn’t you tell me you were flying around a priestess of Aura today?” Mick chastised Noah. 

“Because most people are intimidated by priestesses. And since Noah has already lost so much already, I couldn’t chance him losing anymore, especially upon my account.” You easily answered for him. 

“Of course,” Mick ducked his head as his cheeks blushed. 

“This is Zara Zahnochka Volchitsa Kingsley. This is Mick Mullins.” Noah introduced. 

“Pleasure to meet you.” You extended your hand and smiled serenely when he kissed it and pressed his forehead to your knuckles as he bowed respectfully. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He greeted back. 

“Would you have time to take tea with me?” You asked Mick hopefully. 

“Of course, of course, right this way.” He ushered you to the control tower where there was a lounge with a coffee maker and an electric tea kettle which he quickly dumped bottled water into it to boil before he has you sit in his chair, in his office since it’s one of the most comfortable chairs in the place as you pull out your tea set and your trio of teas, each tin a work of art before you laid them out before him and ceremoniously took the top off of each one and sniffed each one before you offered for him to do the same before he sniffed each one. 

“Which one do you prefer?” You asked as he looked between them. 

“This one.” He specified as you nodded and smiled serenely at his choice before the kettle beeped and he immediately got up like a shot to retrieve it and brought it back just as you finished scooping the tea into the little teapot before he handed you the kettle before you poured in the right amount of water. 

“So, Mr. Mullins.” 

“Please call me Mick - Priestess.” He urged you.

“Thank you for having tea with me. And thank you many times over for doing business with Noah. That man has suffered so much loss recently. That loss has touched me very deeply. And to hear how his regular clients have taken their business elsewhere has disturbed me greatly and they will only reap disaster and misfortune for doing so, the gods told me through the leaves under no uncertain terms. Grabbing selfish hands today make it impossible to accept blessings, even if the gods are more than ready and willing to give an overabundance of them. Someone with closed fists cannot be handed anything. Even one closed fist can impede the other open one, since they cancel each other out. Even when what the gods will to give them is greater than what they already have in their hands. It doesn’t matter what their hands are physically if mentally, emotionally, figuratively and especially spiritually, since all of those are interwoven- if their figurative hands are closed, there is no blessing for them. Only a malediction. If that pattern persists, I feel I must intervene further, as I have contacts at the military bases and my more financially blessed clients may have a need for a private pilot for their jets and things and they will be more than happy to make sure Noah is paid handsomely, enough to make a move there worth his while many times over and they will be immeasurably blessed for doing so in Noah’s sake.” You proposed as you as you set up your tea ceremony as you glanced up at Mick who looked particularly embarrassed like you just pulled his pants down and exposed him. 

“But I don’t feel that will happen to you, because you are being generous and using the deserving and there is no one more deserving than Noah and you will be blessed for it. I can tell, it is written in the lines on your face and on the veins on the back of your hands.” You reassured him which had light returning to his eyes and a smile spread on his face before you poured the tea. 

“Well then let me reassure you that I would be more than happy to help Noah in any way I can.” Mick swore. 

“Please do not use pretty words in the face of a priestess just to gain momentary favor, do not say anything unless you mean the words with all truth and that you have cemented plans and will put those words into action.” You gently warned with a look of sorrow. 

“No I swear on my life and the lives of my family, what I say is in all truth and I will absolutely follow through, I will use no one but Noah for the rest of the season and for every season after this till the end of my days and I will pay him very well for it, so that he and his family may be kept in safety and security.” Mick swore solemnly. 

“Your words please me and the gods, may you feel peace and happiness and enjoy nothing but success with the fulfillment of this vow. May I give you a gift?” You proposed. 

“I will accept anything you wish to give me.” Mick answered earnestly. 

“I will read the tea leaves for you and wish to give you a charm.” You proposed. 

“I would be honored.” He agreed before you pulled out the reading plate and swished the remaining tea in the pot around before you poured the remains onto the center of the plate and watched as the tea leaves flowed out into the plate as the both of you watched to see where the tea leaves fell on the plate before you used your extensive training to read them to him. Usually people paid quite a bit of money to have this done by Olga and people used the information as if it was doctrinal truth, above questioning or reproach and Mick seemed perfectly pleased and excited about what the tea leaves told on the plate.  

No sooner had you finished before both of your phones chimed, messages that the plane was already filled with the shipment. 

You took a few moments to rinse your plate off in the sink after both Mick and yourself took a picture of it and as you rinsing it, Mick was making sure to cut Noah’s check. Mick usually paid half upon arrival and loading and then the other half upon successful delivery. This time Mick would be doubling both payments and made a note to always do this in the future as he fingered the gold charm you had given him that he immediately put onto a gold chain around his neck before his own phone went off, suddenly he was getting payments and offers from new vendors as he felt elated as he quickly prayed for forgiveness for slighting Noah in the past by undercutting him before he rejoined you as you finished packing up everything so he could walk you back and hand his payment to Noah. 

“Oh and Mick, I should warn you. If you ever break your vow, the charm will tarnish and you will lose what you gained and even would have gained will immediately go to your competition. And once it’s lost, it can not be regained.” You warmed him solemnly. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it Priestess.” Mick reassured you as he walked you back over to the plane. 

“May safety, security and blessings be with you Priestess,” Mick offered you graciously. 

“And with you.” You answered before you nodded and turned to get back on the plane, giving Noah a meaningful look with a pleased smile before Mick happily handed over the folded check to Noah and an apology for not using him sooner but quickly set up a deal to use him at least every week and a reassurance that if Noah ever needed anything at all, to let Mick know. 

“Of course, well, uh, I better get going, you have my number, just let me know what you need.” Noah returned before he got back into the plane and got ready to go before he peeked at the check before he put it into his payment bag. 

“Well that went well, I would say he’s your new model client.” You smiled proudly. 

“How?” Noah asked curiously. 

“Manta Olga charges anywhere from 3 to ten thousand dollars for the kind of tea ceremony I just had with him and to get a tea reading with her is booked up anywhere from three to 9 months in advance because she is the high priestess at her temple. Minor priestesses and newbies like me usually make a tiny fraction of that. And honestly if all I’m out is a few scoops of my favorite tea, it’s worth it to me- to help ensure that you and Sakura especially will be ok and taken care of, long after I leave and can’t ensure it with my own hands.” You confessed as you fiddled with the fringe of your shawl because you suddenly didn’t have the strength to look at him. 

Meanwhile the words were trying to eat their way out of Noah’s mouth to assure you and reassure you that you would be more than welcome to try. That he would follow you to the ends of the earth to give you as many chances as you wanted and needed to try. But then his radio went nuts trying to receive multiple messages all at once. All of these clients begging for his help to fly loads as you prepared yourself to repeat this process over and over and over today, as many times as it would take to make sure that Noah would be the most popular and sought after pilot the Frozen Tundra ever saw and prayed that your endeavors would bring Noah untold and unimaginable success.

Word spread quickly that a ‘priestess of Aura’ was with Noah and that she was giving free tea readings in exchange for business with Noah and Noah was getting money hand over fist as his payment envelope was close to bursting again, much like your bladder half the time because this tea, while beautiful and delicious, ran through you but you were getting better with every reading, like riding a bike and it was all coming back to you with ease. Like this is what you did all day every day and you had a lot of fun too and Noah made three loops around the state and flew from the morning till well into the night and every time you took tea with all these clients, they were more than happy to feed you a snack too. Mostly prepared by their wives to feed you and Noah and Noah counted himself lucky enough to sit in on a few of them while he ate lunch and dinner and gratefully drank some tea with you, enjoying the tea quite a bit. 

On the final flight home, you finally got to take off the jewelry, your ears practically tears of joy that they weren’t weighed down anymore as your chest was much lighter without the necklace on it as you gradually took the beads and headbands out of your hair before you stretched your neck before you put it all away back into the blessing bag. 

“There you are.” Noah murmured appreciatively, happy to see Zahnochka receed and his Zara come back to the forefront which made you giggle. 

“Yup, here I am.” You answered before you got a makeup cloth out of your backpack and wiped off all the makeup and false lashes which were itching your eyelids. 

“Did you really have to put all that makeup on?” Noah asked as he saw a ton of purple come off. 

“Most priestesses of Aura are of Siberian and Eastern Europa descent where the indigo violet orcs and dark elves which are just about the same color-originated from. The closer I look physically to them, the more people believe my authenticity as one. My first tea reading didn’t go well because I didn’t look purple enough and the client thought they weren’t getting an authentic reading. Thanks to the wonders of makeup, once I was able to get my complexion purple enough, people stopped questioning my authenticity despite Olga vouching for me. Even now I’m listed under the priestesses of Aura website as a chastnyy, or private priestess. Which means I don’t “officially” serve at any one temple even though I am in the same order that Olga is in. It just makes it eaiser for me. Same thing with the accent, it just helps me play the part. It doesn’t make it any less real but there are theatrics that come with it.” You explained. 

“Well maybe I’m weird but I’d rather have Zara with me in this cockpit than Zahnochka any day. She’s cool and all but I just like you better.” Noah confessed. 

“Awww, thank you. Zahnochka is...I’ll be honest, she’s exhausting. She’s fun but tiresome after a while. But thank you for not getting annoyed or intimaded by her.” You confessed. 

“Nope, not at all. So what are you doing tomorrow?” Noah asked. 

“I don’t have any plans.” You answered. 

“Well I actually ran all the loads today that I was supposed to run tomorrow. So technically I have tomorrow off and I would really like to take you fishing if you’d be up for it.” Noah offered, remembering his mother’s advice. 

“YES!” You immediately agreed with a bright, nearly blinding smile. “I would love to.” You answered. 

“We could even take Sakura too, I think with your encouragement, she might get over her squamishness with worms.” He added and grinned when your whole being practically lit up at the very idea.  

“Perfect.” You beamed, feeling super excited for tomorrow. 

[robdelicious]

How Robert Pattinson And Willem Dafoe Made It To The Lighthouse

Out of a swirling fog emerges the prow of a boat, knifing through a foaming sea. Two figures, shadows in the murk, stand silhouetted on the foredeck, confronting the horizon, their backs to us. Presently an island swims into view. No more than a crag, really: lonely, battered, forbidding. Then a lighthouse can be made out, blinking in the gloom.

Now we see the men head-on, a striking dual portrait in high contrast black and white: a double exposure. They are wearing sailors’ caps, greatcoats, and hefting wooden trunks. One is younger, taller, moustachioed. The other, more deeply crevassed, sports a wild beard, out of which pokes a small wooden pipe, like Popeye’s. Theirs are, by any standards, remarkable faces, extreme faces, unyielding as rock yet sculpted with great delicacy, skin stretched tight over jutting bones: sharp noses, strong jaws, deep set eyes. And, oh, the cheekbones! And would you look at all those teeth?

Before anything else — before they are handsome faces, or expressive faces, or famous faces (they are all of those things) — these are photogenic faces. On first inspection they appear impassive, almost blank. And yet an air of foreboding is struck. The older man’s features are fixed in a roguish grimace. The younger man is wary, tense. These might be the faces of a father and son, or brothers separated by decades: hard, thin, stern faces, built for hard, thin, stern lives. Lives filled with mean disappointments, festering resentments, blood feuds. Here are men who have seen trouble before and will see it again. Maybe they’re looking for trouble. Maybe they’ve found it. Is this a dual portrait — or the portrait of a duel?

Whatever has thrown these men together in this place — fate, karma, the thirst for adventure, the desire for escape (in the case of the characters, but perhaps the actors, too?) or (in the case of the actors specifically) the need to stretch oneself artistically, or to challenge oneself physically, or the reputation of the director, or a really good script, or all of these things — one senses they are aware already, as they square up to the stinging reality of their circumstances, that they may have got more than they bargained for. What we can be sure of from the off: there will be weather. There will be conflict. And there will be acting.

The film is The Lighthouse, the second feature film from the 36-year-old American writer-director Robert Eggers, who made a stir with his debut, The Witch. Eggers, who is based in Brooklyn but grew up in rural New Hampshire, is a man possessed of a rare and creepy gothic sensibility. The Witch was an arthouse horror film, a twisted fairytale with the insidious power of a nightmare. It concerned a family of 17th-century puritans banished to the woods of New England, and it involved possessed children, birds pecking at human flesh, and an unholy bond with a goat. It cost $4m to make and earned that money back 10 times over, making Eggers not just a critical darling, but a coming man in commercial cinema.

For The Lighthouse, Eggers is reunited with A24, among other production companies, and with much of his crew from The Witch, including his director of photography, Jarin Blaschke, and composer Mark Korven, who between them do as much as anyone to set the eerie mood. His co-writer is his brother, Max Eggers. The actors were new to him.

Those faces that I have been at pains to describe, then, belong to Robert Pattinson and Willem Dafoe. They play lighthouse keepers on a wind-slapped, rain-lashed rock off the Atlantic coast of North America. The year is 1890. Pattinson is, or appears to be, Ephraim Winslow, the taciturn apprentice. “I ain’t much for talkin’,” he says early on — a statement, like so many in this film of shifting and unfixed identities, that turns out to be not entirely true.

Dafoe is Winslow’s irascible, peg-legged senior partner, Thomas Wake, an experienced “wickie” and a cruel taskmaster, obsessively enraptured by the beacon he tends. “The light is mine!” he declares, mad-eyed. Wake consigns Winslow to the bowels of the building, where the younger man stokes the fire and swabs the floors and nurtures his grievances, while indulging in some quite epic, mermaid-focussed masturbation. Winslow and Wake are to spend four weeks alone on the island before they are to be relieved. But when a storm blows in, the odd couple are stranded — maybe, or maybe not, because a violent act on Winslow’s part has brought down a curse upon them. Slowly, and then in spasms of ultraviolence, they unravel.

The Lighthouse is a twisted buddy movie, a surreal black comedy, a psychological thriller set at the hysterical pitch of Grand Guignol. It was filmed in the spring of 2018 on sound stages in the city of Halifax, Nova Scotia, on Canada’s Atlantic coast, and on location on the tiny fishing community of Cape Forchu, nearby. (“People tend to spend up to 45 minutes here,” Google Maps tells us of Cape Forchu. This fact might, or might not, amuse the filmmakers who spent weeks there, battling Biblical conditions. “It snowed in May,” notes Dafoe.)

With the exception of the Moldovan model Valeriia Karaman, who makes a number of brief, though memorable, appearances in her debut film, Pattinson and Dafoe are the only members of the cast, and their seesawing power struggle is the film’s entire focus, with point of view switching sides like a sail boat’s boom in a storm. Its success or failure rests heavily on their shoulders.

Pattinson and Dafoe are big stars, both. They are also men from different generations, different backgrounds, different countries and traditions. The Lighthouse was not an easy film to make for a number of reasons — the remote location, the raging weather — but not the least of the filmmakers’ challenges were the contrasting approaches of the two actors.

“They really did have incredible chemistry on screen,” director Eggers tells me on the phone, “but it was chemistry through tension. I know there’s been discussion about their different acting techniques and the trying conditions on set…” He pauses. “That couldn’t have been better for the movie.”

If you happened to be out and about in Halifax, in the early spring of 2018, you may have noticed a slender young loner stalking the streets day after day, muttering to himself. Noticed him, and felt concern for his emotional wellbeing. Had you followed him, and listened closely, you might have heard the same words repeated over and over again, in a gravel-voiced near-grunt: “Woyt poyn, woyt poyn, woyt poyn…” Come again? “Woyt poyn, woyt poyn...”

“White pine,” the slender young man enunciates into my voice recorder, 18 months on, in the accent of a nicely brought-up southwest London boy, rather than a 19th-century working man from a highly specific part of Maine. White pine — I’m sorry, woyt poyn — is one of the trees which his character lists when telling his colleague of his past misadventures as a lumberjack. Pattinson developed the accent with the help of a dialect coach and by speaking to a contemporary Maine lobster fisherman on the phone. “It’s one of those accents where if you say one syllable wrong it’s suddenly Jamaican, or something,” he says. “So it took ages.”

Pattinson arrived early in Halifax, before his director and co-star, to psych himself into the role of the saturnine Ephraim. Having approached Eggers after seeing The Witch, in the hope that they might at some point work together, Pattinson had declined the director’s first suggestion, for a part in a more conventional, mainstream film that the director was then developing.

“He said he was only interested in doing weird things,” Eggers says. “So when The Lighthouse came around I said that if he doesn’t find this weird enough, I guess we’ll never work together.”

It’s true, Pattinson says, that at that time, in 2016, he “wanted to do the weirdest stuff in the world.” (Mission accomplished, Rob!) Still, he spent a good deal of time agonising over whether or not to take the role in The Lighthouse. “I remember reading it and I thought it was very funny, but I was also thinking, ‘I don’t understand how the tone would work?’”

When Dafoe signed on, Pattinson was excited. “I knew Willem could bring that kind of anarchic energy,” he says, “but I really didn’t know how I would do it at all.” Dafoe, he says, in one of his many moments of self-effacement, “has one of those faces where he can literally sit in any room in the world, doing almost nothing, and it’s fascinating to watch. Whereas I sort of blend in with the chair I’m sitting on.”

Before filming began, the pair spent a week in rehearsals. Pattinson dislikes rehearsing, preferring to do his experimenting on camera. “It was very, very frustrating,” he says. “I just couldn’t achieve what they wanted me to achieve in that room. Robert [Eggers] was getting furious with me because I was just sitting there, completely monotone the whole time. He could not stand it.” Pattinson tells the story with no rancour whatsoever. He knows it sounds funny, but it wasn’t at the time. “I just don’t know how to perform it until we’re performing it. By the end of the week, I’m thinking, ‘I’m going to get fired before we’ve even started’. I definitely feel like, with the rehearsal period, we were quite angry with each other by the end of it. Literally, we’d finish for the day, I’d fucking slam out the door and go home.

“I knew that there was diminishing expectations of me throughout the week of rehearsals,” he says. “I definitely became an underdog. They’re like, ‘Wow, this was a big mistake. He’s really shit.’”

Pattinson and I talk on a sweltering August morning, in the comfort of a private members’ club in west London, near the flat he’s rented for the summer on Airbnb. (He’s in town to shoot Christopher Nolan’s new sci-fi spectacular, Tenet, about which he is permitted to tell us, with fulsome apologies, precisely nothing.) Rather than swigging kerosene and chaining tobacco, as in the film, he orders a banana smoothie, and when he’s finished that, an apple juice. Occasionally he sucks on a Juul.

Pattinson is 33. He grew up in affluent Barnes, the son of a dealer in vintage cars and a model booker. More or less untrained — unless you count some teenage am-dram — at 19 he was cast as Cedric Diggory, the hero’s doomed frenemy, in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. But his Hollywood breakthrough arrived in 2008. Twilight was a teen B-movie, but it became a pop cult phenomenon, spawning four sequels of diminishing charm, making an otherworldly $3.3bn worldwide and creating megastars of its leads, Pattinson, who played a sexy vampire, and Kristen Stewart, who became his girlfriend on screen and IRL, as they say, before, in an unseemly frenzy of prurient salivating, she became his ex-girlfriend.

While for some he may always be the pallid tween heartthrob, in the six years since the final instalment of Twilight, Pattinson has worked hard to reinvent himself. His post Young Adult years have been cussedly uncommercial and impressively adventurous. In that period, Pattinson has worked with some of cinema’s most fêted directors: David Cronenberg, Anton Corbijn, James Gray, Werner Herzog, the Safdie brothers. Most recently, he was an intergalactic castaway in High Life, an enjoyable, if bonkers, dystopian sci-fi from the French director Claire Denis.

“Even in the Twilight years I never said, ‘Oh, he’s just a pretty boy,’” says Robert Eggers. “I always thought there was something interesting about him. I could tell that he wanted to be a great actor. And in the past years it’s been very clear that he is.”

The attraction of more avant garde or outré material, Pattinson says, is it allows him to let rip in a way he never could in real life. Pattinson compares the experience of acting in a film like The Lighthouse with joyriding. “A lot of the movies I’ve done recently, you literally feel as if you’ve stolen a car and you’re kind of careening through stuff.” (Such are the fantasies, perhaps, of a boy who grew up with a father who imported American sports cars for a living.)

In person, Pattinson is a mild-mannered English actor, albeit a slightly eccentric one. On set, however, “because you’re playing a mad person, it means you can sort of be mad the whole time. Well, not the whole time, but for like an hour before the scene.”

What does he mean by being mad? “You can literally just be sitting on the floor growling and licking up puddles of mud.”

This sounds figurative. He really means it. On The Lighthouse, in the scenes in which his character is meant to be drunk on kerosene (there are quite a few of them), he was “basically unconscious the whole time. It was crazy. I spent so much time making myself throw up. Pissing my pants. It’s the most revolting thing. I don’t know, maybe it’s really annoying.”

It’s hard not to speculate that yes, it might be really annoying. “There’s a scene,” Pattinson remembers, “where Willem’s kind of sleeping on me and we’re really, really drunk and I felt like we’re completely lost in the scene and I’m sitting there trying to make myself gag and Robert [Eggers] told me off because Willem’s looking at him going: ‘If he throws up on me, I’m leaving the set.’ I had absolutely no idea this whole drama was unfolding.”

In some ways, Pattinson concedes, all this acting out is a reaction to his terrifying early super-fame. He speaks of himself in the second person when talking about it. “For a long time you’re very self-conscious in the street. You’re hiding a lot, so [on set] you have an excuse to be wild. It’s like being an adrenaline junkie. And also, when you don’t know how to do something, why not just run headfirst into a wall? See what happens. I haven’t got any other ideas.”

On The Lighthouse, he spun in circles before each take, to make himself off-balance. He placed a stone in one of his shoes, to increase the already considerable physical hardship. He can see — from my disbelieving laughter, apart from anything else — that all this strikes non-actors as funny, even preposterous. It may be that it sounds this way to some actors, too.

The most famous story (possibly apocryphal) of an encounter between an adherent of the Method — in which actors don’t so much pretend to be someone else as try to temporarily become them — and a more traditional, outside-in actor, who puts on costume and makes believe, is Laurence Olivier’s withering put-down of Dustin Hoffman, when they were working together on John Schlesinger’s Marathon Man. At some point, Hoffman, a graduate of the Actors Studio, confided in the great English Shakespearean that, in order to bring the correct verisimilitude to a scene in which his character has not slept for three consecutive nights, he had forced himself to stay awake for the same period. “My dear boy,” Olivier is said to have smoothly replied, “why don’t you just try acting?”

Eggers says that any suggestion of that kind of relationship between Dafoe and Pattinson is wide of the mark. “The idea that Dafoe is outside-in and Rob is this method actor, that’s not the case. I think maybe they lean the tiniest bit into those directions but they’re both combinations of things.”

ESQUIRE: https://www.esquire.com/uk/culture/a29300396/robert-pattinson-willem-dafoe-interview/

[downthatrabbitholewego]

March 2017

This is a compilation of fics that I've read/re-read over the past month. Faves get a star ( ★ ). There is also a separate fic rec page for my favorites here, if you'd like to check that out. :)

MONTH: March, 2017 | (older lists)

▶▶ a little advice for aspiring fires by The Byger (Byacolate) Explicit | 42,182w Regardless of his sadly lacking social circle, Stiles was going to have to get some physical contact or he was going to explode. Seriously. It'd be messy and Derek would probably become even more emotionally constipated having to clean up little bits of Stiles from his pristine walls and furniture.

▶▶ Among the Famous Living Dead by standinginanicedress Explicit | 103,483w "Okay," Stiles leans over the book, finger on his chin, while Derek stands there beside him with a frown on his face, "we have the pig's blood." "They loved that at the butcher shop," Derek mutters, rubbing his hand along his jaw. "I'll take three quarts of pig's blood. Not like this town doesn't already think I'm some sort of fucking pervert anyway." "We have the hair you picked off his clothes," Stiles points to the tiny Ziploc bag with a handful of Scott hairs tucked safely inside, and Derek grimaces. "We have the candles. We have the snake. Now we just need an object of the deceased." He furrows his brow as he leans over the book some more, cocking his head. "It says the object can be anything that was deeply personal to the deceased. Like a piece of sentimental jewelry or a cherished trinket or even a favorite song." Derek snorts. "Yeah. Let’s just listen to fucking Blink-182 and summon the devil." "Right?" Stiles laughs, high and hysterical, manic almost. Derek laughs, and Stiles laughs, and it's not funny. It's really not funny.

▶▶ benefits of getting stood up by haleofStilesheart Teen And Up | 3,822w Stiles is pissed. He's cold. He's wet. And to top it all off he got stood up that morning. Worst Valentine's Day ever.

▶▶ Come with Me and Walk the Longest Mile by DevilDoll ★ Explicit | 39,275w Stiles shouldn't accept rides from werewolves he meets behind abandoned convenience stores. In which the zombie apocalypse is just one of their worries.

▶▶ Dancing Baby Boy by literaryoblivion General | 2,185w The talks with the Logan and Smithson packs are not going well. Derek’s already been in Colorado (the agreed upon neutral territory between the three of them) for a week and the way their negotiations and discussions are going, it looks like they’ll all be there for at least another week, if not two. All Derek wants is to be done, go home, and hold Stiles and their son Noah in his arms as he falls asleep.

▶▶ Disappear Here by AgnesBlue Mature | 28,539w Wounded in a fire that killed off his entire family, Derek wants nothing more than to be left alone as he finishes off his senior year in high school. That all changes when omega Stiles Stilinski asks him to help him through his first heat.

▶▶ Don't Worry Baby by Idday ★ Teen And Up | 4,815w Stiles and Derek, in letters, through the years.

▶▶ little spoon by kalpurna ★ Explicit | 20,276w "You know you're allowed to ask for vanilla sex, right?" he says, afterwards. "We can do whatever you want. That's kind of the point." Derek doesn't respond.

▶▶ Down the Rabbit Hole by KuriKuri General | 3,953w His hind paw catches on a rock and he goes down, crashing onto his stomach, the wind abruptly forced from his lungs. He tries to scramble to his feet – paws, whatever – but he can already sense a large figure hovering over him, trapping him in. He makes a break for it anyway, though, desperately trying to escape, but a large muzzle with rows of sharp teeth is already descending on him and – – and Derek Hale is going to eat him to death. And not even in a sexy way. Then Derek finally will become a murderer, and his dad will have to identify his body by scraping bits of his rabbit intestines off of Derek's wolf-y canines. All because he didn't warn his werewolf friends off from their usual late night hunts, because then he'd have to admit that he's a fucking wererabbit.

▶▶ Falling by Britt_pknapp, Kal213 Teen And Up | 5,736w Since the King and Queen declared the threat of the local dragon too great, the forests were considered off-limits. That should have been that. Derek should have finally been left alone, save the few out of town merchants that simply didn't know better. He didn't take kindly to trespassers in his territory, and none ever survived to tell the tale. After all, he's a red dragon, the most feared of all the dragons. He lives alone, and he likes it that way, never entertaining his family, and never entertaining friends. His territory is his, and he's proven time and time again that he'll protect it by any means necessary. Until one day, when Derek saw him, a human, wandering in his territory. A trespasser that throws Derek's world on its side.

▶▶ gorgeous beards of bhu by bibliosexxual Teen And Up | 2,238w Then there's the day she posts a picture of The Guy. His face is spattered with what looks suspiciously like blood, and there are a bunch of jagged rips in his shirt, like he got into a fight with something with claws. Even like that, he's still one of the hottest people Stiles has ever seen.

▶▶ How to Woo Your Local Omega by alocalband Explicit | 2,703w Stiles knows a pity gift when he sees one. Mostly because that's all he's ever gotten from anyone since the moment he hit puberty.

▶▶ I'll Be Seeing You by thepsychicclam Explicit | 81,489w In the summer of 1941, with the country on the brink of war, diner waiter Stiles meets Derek Hale, an army soldier just passing through Beacon Hills.

▶▶ Magic Bullet by matildajones Teen And Up | 10,345w Derek's only comfort over the past few years has been a novel written by his favorite author. When he decides to teach it at an entry level university course he doesn't expect a fiery student to disagree with everything he says...

▶▶ Mating Habits of the Domesticated North American Werewolf by lielabell Mature | 35,458w Derek doesn't do pining. He doesn't. So when it becomes clear that Stiles is much more interested in having Derek as a new best friend than a boyfriend, he puts on his big boy pants and makes it fucking work. He becomes the best goddamn friend a spastic teenager could ever hope to have.

▶▶ prince in training by bibliosexxual ★ Teen And Up | 2,850w Stiles thought the most annoying thing about suddenly being a royal heir to a small eastern European kingdom he’s never heard of would be the hyper-aggressive paparazzi, but he was dead wrong. The most annoying thing is actually Derek Hale, the guy Stiles' grandmother hired to teach Stiles how not to screw this up.

▶▶ second chances off highway 1 by bleep0bleep Teen And Up | 2,380w It's four am at Hale's, and Stiles Stilinski has just walked back into Derek's life.

▶▶ Somewhere Down the Road (You Might Get Lonely) by anodyneer Teen And Up | 8,616w Right after Stiles graduated high school, Derek got very drunk and sang a karaoke love song to him - and Stiles was so mind-numbingly drunk himself that he didn't understand or remember. Six years later, Stiles finally finds out what really happened that night, and he tracks Derek down to try to make things right. (I swear, this isn't as cracky as it sounds.)

▶▶ starry eyed and nerdified by haleofStilesheart General | 2,392w For the past two weeks Stiles has been leaving Derek anonymous love notes. Derek finally guesses who his secret admirer is.

▶▶ This Might Be Irony by thepsychicclam ★ Mature | 38,340w Stiles and Derek have been close friends since the Hale siblings moved in next door after their parents' death. But Derek's in the popular group, he's a star baseball player, and he dates popular Pep Squad captain Jennifer Blake. Stiles doesn't have any of that, just his skateboard and a hopeless crush on Derek (oh yeah, and his Vote Lydia Martin Prom Queen button). As prom and the baseball state championship grow closer, Stiles and Derek start rekindling their friendship. And it all begins with two white boards.

▶▶ Turn a Little Faster by skoosiepants Teen And Up | 3,207w He shifts back and forth on his feet and tries to psych himself up. He can do this. He's a badass werewolf, he can totally tell Stiles that they accidentally got werewolf married because—because Stiles was thinking about him, and happened to give him a token of his, uh, affection under the silvery light of the last full moon. Platonic affection, Derek thinks sourly, so he doesn't get why his wolf feels all warm and fuzzy and bonded all of a sudden. Honestly, it's like—why aren't people accidentally getting werewolf married all the time, if it happens this easily?

▶▶ turn the other cheek by redhoodedwolf Teen And Up | 12,465w Derek Hale was not born a werewolf. Stiles Stilinski was not born with a soulmark.

▶▶ Visual Confirmation by alocalband Teen And Up | 1,522w Derek's been back in Beacon Hills for nearly three weeks, and Stiles has yet to lay eyes on him.

▶▶ we can take our time by KouriArashi Explicit | 17,476w Tact and social mores are completely relegated to the back of Derek's brain, and without thinking, he blurts out, "Did you spend your heat alone?" Stiles' head jerks around in surprise, and then he flushes pink and looks away. His voice comes out brusque and unfriendly. "Not that it's any of your business, but I spend every heat alone."

▶▶ without really meaning it by obroech N/A | 1,911w Watching Derek dote on someone is hard – harder than Stiles thought it would ever be, despite the fact he knows it's insincere; despite the fact it's the job and nothing more.

▶▶ Untitled Tumblr Ficlet by bibliosexxual N/A | 4,162w It's probably not a good sign that when he opens his eyes and sees a gangly teenage boy in a red hoodie and grubby-looking black fingerless gloves standing over him, he doesn't startle. His claws don't come out; his eyes don’t flash. He just feels... resigned. "You live like this?" the guy says, soft. Almost pitying. "I mean. You actually live here?"

▶▶ Untitled Tumblr Ficlet by hoechlbutt N/A | 3,044w Prompt: A Sterek secret admirer AU

▶▶ Untitled Tumblr Ficlet by pantstomatch N/A | 1,496w Derek says, "What do you know about unicorns?" Stiles yawns and says, "A surprising amount for a teenage boy."

- - - - -

[certifiablyplatinum]

“‘Call the police’, cause I been arrested for an improper display of rockin’!” LCD Soundsystem at the Masonic Temple, Detroit

So, when I got notified of the “early bird sale” for this show waaaay back when in June,, I whipped out my plastic as I am wont to do without thinking…. of course I did. Because… James Murphy, and one of my favorite bands of all time. I consider LCD Soundsystem my Depeche Mode 2.0, and for anyone who knows me that’s all the summation that needs.

Well, because when you get old, time moves in a different way (as in, faster), summer basically didn’t happen, and before I knew it, it was time to hit the road to Detroit. I was beyond stoked, and played my favorite classics all morning as I finished up some work…. North American Scum, Losing My Edge (probably my favorite lyrics of any song,* and even more pointed AND poignant as an aging creative in my industry. Like, I GET that song:  “But I was THERE!”

Anyway- Russ (so game! So indulgent of my schedule dictations and crazy plans!) and I made our escape in the Escape and off we went. We checked into an Air B & B 3 hours later that seemed KIND of sketchy but was “actually really, really nice.”*  We poured some warm vodka into a solo cup I had brought along in my bag just in case (it pays to be prepared, and I can be weird about other peoples’ dishes) and about an hour later, after playing tunes and sitting on the bed looking at each other, we summoned an Uber and went to the Whitney, a gorgeous 1800′s mansion converted into a restaurant, dessert parlor, gardens, etc.  When Russ saw the white tablecloths he looked at me with wide eyes and said, “Holy shit” and promptly covered his “God Save the Queen” sex pistols shirt with a classy flannel. We agonized in stage whispers how to plan, mesh and merge our overeating vs. cocktailing- (Russ said somewhat accusingly: “THE LAST TIME YOU HAD A FULL FISH DINNER COMPLETE WITH SIDES AND BREAD YOU WENT HOME AND SLEPT”) along with figuring our budget for this meal, which there was none. So, I ordered a crab cake (playing it off with a coquettish “Oh, I don’t have much of an appetite!” to the waiter), and kept asking for more bread.  

Yes, I’m cutting to the chase, but I like to add a little background flavor to my “reviews” (which are turning into stories.) Anyway, we ate our way to a pleasant satisfaction, NOT stuffage (key to a good evening.) We left the Whitney and popped into another Uber and got dropped off in front of the imposing, castle-like Masonic Temple theatre (the largest in the world.)  It was about 7:30, and the line already snaked around the building. As we exited our Uber, we were met by my fellow LCD fan and Columbus-ite, Kerrie, and her BFF Dani, who had also road-tripped up. We gathered together and moved simultaneously in a clump until we reached the front doors and presented our tickets.

Inside was already a bit of pandemonium. The auditorium was the size of the indoor LC, (oops, Express Live) with the ornate-ness of the Ohio Theatre, with arches leading through to aisleways into the venue and beverage/snack counters like the Schott or any basketball arena.. Kerrie and Dani had balcony seats so up they went, and Russ and I made our way to the floor. (Earlier Russ had asked, “Is there an opener?” I had said, “I bet there will just be a DJ” and bingo.) Thudding bass beats blasted into the auditorium, and I rocked out with my Rum and Diet once we found a seat. Get this.  Our seats were on the aisle, second row from the floor.  (The whole show was GA, and I couldn’t believe what a great spot we got.) It was like being on the floor, but– I could see better because we were elevated a bit OVER the floor, and I could sit if I damn well chose to do so.

The DJ spun, the floor in front of us filled, and before I knew it the place was maxium capacity, with people even spilling into the aisles.  A wisp of smoke, a darkened stage, and the screams began… as the opening notes of the first track off their new album, “Oh Baby” filtered into our eardrums.  The build of swirling, tinkling keys sounded like a fairy tale, or Tinkerbell, or making one feel they  should be standing in a darkened field with stars swirling dizzingly around them in sparkling rotation.

I was agog at taking in the sight of James Murphy (and all his gear!), my shaggy-haired hero. Who IS this odd genius, cool yet mad, hipster yet pushing 50, dapper yet rough, a singer/songwriter/drummer/pianist/programmer/DJ/mixmaster? Such a hodgepodge of talent, so much so that I can’t pin him down with a word. He almost seemed as if he was the maestro of an orchestra, or big-band leader at a supper club, in his white shirt and black jacket (and  black jeans). For the entire show, he was the beacon  on the stage that everyone revolved around.  Even when laying down the most danceable beats, he stood  tall and composed, a beam of light shining upon him.

After the magical vibe of “Oh Baby” faded away, the band launched into a rapid-fire, doubletime, raw take on “Daft Punk is Playing at My House”, causing a frenzy of moshing and screaming. The stage turned red under the lights, fists were pumped, and a cowbell made a bold and badass appearance:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NLWUIy0dvTk&feature=youtu.be

“Call the Police”, with its deep bass riff toward the end (ba bum bum bum da da ad DA da, repeat) slayed the crowd;  like “Daft Punk…”, the tempo was amped considerably. In fact, most songs were played with a driving, energetic urgency, almost as if the band couldn’t keep up with themselves. Everything was spot-on… clear vocals, an assured presence, drummers that bounced up and down as they slammed the sticks– James hit every high note with thoughtful preparation… (’we don’t waste time with…love”). He commands this song with Bono-like intensity. (I think he sounds like Bono on a lot of the new album, if you must know).

Get Innocuous, You Wanted a Hit,  ferocious and fun, blasted out next.  And then, I made a critical error. Fateful, dare I say.  Like Icarus soaring cockily to the sun, because I have done this hundreds of times before with no negative consequence… I left to “bring back drinks.”  

I headed up the packed aisle and walked down the marble steps to the basement- the quickest and closest bar. I pulled my sweaty 20 from my bosom and got a bottle of water, a Pabst (lol) for Russ, and a rum and diet. After waiting 10 minutes, I gathered my sundries and climbed back upstairs, finding my entry way to “aisle 3.”  And I was met by a wall of bodies. No, more like..a CONE of bodies, packing every square, breathable atom of space and air from the top of the entryway down to the floor. My 5′2 self, carrying three beverages, pushed boldly on, and then confusedly, and then feebly.  The oxygen was sucked from my lungs, I was being eaten alive by warm, sweaty, douchebag bodies as they sucked me in the Upside Down like Barb.  My cracking, forlorn, yet agitated voice called “RUSS..” (dear God, why. The auditorium was powering out decibels with the same power of the sun.)  It was so dark, so loud, so packed, I didn’t even know where I was heading.  To top it all off, in the cruelest sense of irony, during my time of woe the band was blissfully singing their gentlest, saddest song, “Someone Great.” As I pushed and sloshed through the Upside Down of bodies, my wrists wet from rum, a ragged sob burst forth from my throat.  I sensed I was getting close to the floor… and then I was being grabbed and clawed, some colossal dickhead grabbing the neck of my shirt to keep me from getting through, grabbing my drink and spilling it, and then his friends laughing – I felt I was in a fucking funhouse hall of horrifying mirrors. Like, if it was a movie, I would have seen their faces in slow mo moving toward me with deep, slowed-down, “HA, HA, HA’s.”  Somehow, I found myself on the floor, which meant I had bypassed my second row seat. As the haunting lyrics, “when someone  great is gone… when someone great is gone…” were being sung, in a weird way I trying to listen to it  I was pissed I was missing it, while the rest of me was painfully aware I had no idea how to find Russ. Would Russ be singing those lines about me when I never returned?  I wondered forlornly. A girl yelled - “YOU’RE ON THE FLOOR” and I stared at her blankly and yelled back, “I’M ON THE FLOOR?”  All my instincts could do was send me away from the floor. Like a penguin on their programmed quest for winter food, I marched back toward the packed aisle. My foot felt a step up- I had made the front row.  My eyes scanned the seats, and finally I saw Russ standing. I shoved my way into any available hole that a human body made as it stood next to another human body it was not connected to, and I slithered my way to my (unbelievably) still-empty seat.  I collapsed, tossed Russ his pabst, and wiped an exhausted, emotional , drunken tear from my cheek, barely able to blurt: “I WAS ASSAULTED AND THE AISLE WAS PACKED.”  I then slammed the remaining droplets  at the bottom of my spilled drink.

SO, YEAH!  ‘Someone Grea’t was… great. (It really was. I was hyperaware of it as I was going through my trauma.) Once settled, though, I shook it off, and danced with vigor at Yr City’s a Sucker and Tonite, Tonite (which sounds like a Daft Punk song. Ironic? Discuss.).

“We’re going to the bathroom, then we’re coming back,” James informed the crowd, so we settled down a bit because I had a feeling that Dance Yrself Clean may be one of the encores… I was not disappointed!  It put a worthwhile capper on the whole evening. “Ahhh ahhhhhh, ahhh ahhh….” rang out the harmonies, with the chirpy RD2-D2 synth sounds peppering underneath, and then, the big, bold, reverb-y breakdown…. ahhhh! Washed clean. Danced clean.

Here I am, sweaty with the abovementioned cleanse.  I look like I’ve been through the “wringer”, so to speak. Hot mess!:

(as my POS phone had died, I was begging Russ to document the evening in a photographic sense.) Anyway, we weren’t quite sure what to do because we were both feeling pretty rough and tired at this point… so we wandered toward the casino.  Once we got there, we sat down at a metal table in a glorified food court, looked at each other and said, “what the hell are we doing here?”  I really just wanted a huge bottle of water, and maybe a sub. Like- Justin and Karly, if you are reading this, I really just wanted that pizza place/bar we stumbled into on the way back from the U2 show in Cleveland. Quiet, dark,dumpy, whatever. SOOOO, we ubered back to the air b & b (in Lafayette Park- which I am reading was a hotbed for Mies Van Der Rohe’s’ residential buildings, and I wonder if the apartment building we stayed in was one of them?)

I had a half a bottle of water waiting for me from earlier, which I chugged; I ripped out my contacts, changed into my slug clothes, and hopped in bed. I wondered aloud if I would be able to sleep– many times after a concert I am too jacked up, especially when rum & diet is involved. Like a magical elf, Russ rolls toward me, producing a Klonopin he takes for his own sleep issues.  I cracked the hell up.  Russ then literally proffered it on his finger and put it in my mouth, saying in a creepy voice, “Take it, kid… just let it dissolve and see the rainbow.”  Holllllllyyyy  shite.

So- I love this band, they are a sinuous, living, silvery, fluid octopus of harmony and rhythm, soft and loud, thundering and syncopated and layers of weirdness and stops and starts.  As I read weeks ago– the only band who could produce a 9-minute pop song and leave you wanting more.  WHO are they? WHAT do they create?  Just like me getting trapped in a throng of screaming, pulsating bodies, there are some things we may never understand.