#so we could have Dogstar

[t4r0tc4rdz]

@razmerry THE DOG STAR?????

[barrenclan]

HI! Just binged through most of your comic and HOLY SHIT! It's been amazing, I love the depth of the writing, your art is amazing as usual (love your Dogstar comic as well, greetings from instagram❤️) and all the worldbuilding.

I did want to ask out of curiosity, did you ever decide what were the herbs in Egret's hrt mystery mix and does she still have to take them occasionally or was it a one time dose thing? If not I do accept the "it's a mystery mix" answer as well since neither of us are a biochemist and that shit's hard to research 😅

Thank you! I'm glad you like my comics. :]

I never settled on specific plants or chemicals for the "HRT mix". Here's what I imagined; Egrettail describes what this mixture did for her in the below quote.

She took them repeatedly for awhile, it wasn't just a one-time dose, but she doesn't have to take them anymore. This is all already a bit fantastical, so I can push the science, but essentially this was only a pheremonal change by way of hormones; cats have very low sexual dimorphism, so there wasn't much physically that would have been feasible to change for her. After a while of taking this treatment, her body would have acclimtized to the supplemental hormones and begun to naturally produce them. Because a cat's scent is sort of like its "signature", you can imagine the human equivalent as her voice changing pitch.

I've said it before, but it bears repeating; hormones exist in almost every multicellular organism that has a body big enough to circulate them; they're just specialized messengers that carry specific chemical information. Hormones in plants are not the same as hormones in humans, or cats, but they do bear analogous structures (which is how we study and reproduce them for our own treatments!). This aspect of the story is based on real science but totally not something a cat could reproduce, obviously. I'm no true biochemist, but I have taken and passed university-level Organic Chemistry and Biochemistry (what a bitch of classes those were) and I work in a biomedical lab, so I know the basics.

[korn-official]

The Kerrang! Challenge starring Jonathan Davis & Munky!

This weeks contestants are:

Name: Jonathan Davis and James 'Munky' Shaffer

Occupation: Tortured singer and guitar-mangler & Kerrang! stage headliners, KORN!

Specialist Subject: Clowns, blindness, and obscenities.

**

1. What is BSE most commonly known as?

James: "is it a European thing? Oh great."

Jonathan: "Mad Cow's Disease?"

James: "Yessss!!!! Good guess, man!”

Jonathan: "I'm a vegetarian now, and BSE was one of the reasons I stopped eating meat. It freaks me out. I don't want my fucking brains running out my nose."

2.On entering the EEC, how many cigarrettes can you bring with you?

Jonathan: "Oh, man, What the fuck is it? Three?"

James: "Remember being on the boat at Dover, and there were all these guys with cartons? I'm gonna say 30 cartons."

Jonathan: "We'll say five cartons."

Kerrang!: "It's 'chokey' for you, then."

3.How many installments of "Childern of the Corn" have there been?

Jonathan: "Three. The first one's the dopest, the second one was kind of cheesy, and the third one I didn't see. Bet it sucks."

4. Who won the Euro 96 competition?

James: "Nobody in the band's into sports"

Jonathan: "What is Euro 96?"

James: "Just pick one."

Jonathan: "Norway."

5.name Slayer's second album.

James: "There was Reign in Blood, then ...."

Jonathan: "Seasons in the Abyss, maybe.."

James: "We'll say South of Heaven"

Kerrang!: "It was Hell Awaits.”

(The duo scream with the embarrassment of it all.)

Jonathan: "Fuck, I knew that song. Play it backwards and it goes, "Join Us", I liked it."

James: "Sicko.”

6. Name Keanu Reeve's rock band.

James: "I saw them on The David Letterman Show.”

Jonathan: "Er, we’re gonna suck…”

Kerrang!: "not as badly as Dogstar."

7. Who plays Quentin Tarantino's brother in From Dusk Till Dawn?

Jonathan: "Haven't seen it. Bruce Willis?"

James: "Boris Karloff."

8. What was the first single from Bon Jovi's keep the faith album?

James: "Keep the faith, that was it. Oh fuckk, I should have got that wrong. Oh no..."

Jonathan: "You fucking rocker!”

9. What is maize more commonly known as?

Jonathan: "Corn, we use Maize as a dummy name when we do warm-up shows."

10. As a result of losing her royal title, how much money has princess Diana been given?

Jonathan: "Was it 43 million pounds?"

Kerrang!: "No, she's not that important."

Jonathan: "I heard a story that when Diana and Prince Charles went anywhere, people had to build a toilet. Then the toilet seat got sent back to the Royal Family, so no one could ever sit on it. The whole monarchy's fucked."

11. Who directed the Italian horror film "tenebrae"?

Jonathan: "Oh, Fellini?

Kerrang!: "No."

Jonathan: "Fellini is the only italian director we know."

12. What is 15 percent of 400?

James: "Oh, man, mathematics."

Jonathan: "Okay, 10 percent will be 40 bucks, is it 45?"

13. What colour is London's Central tube line?

James: "Lime green.“

Jonathan: "I wasn't down there. so I can't tell you. We suck. How many have we got - two?"

14. Which band's second album is named "Ignition"?

James: "Ah, Offspring."

Jonathan: "They're from Huntington Beach, where we started the band. They're cool, but I'm not into that music at all. Noodles is a really nice guy, although he seems to be full of himself."

15. Who played the photo-journalist in "Apocalypse Now"?

Jonathan: "Dennis Hopper. He is in my favourite movie, 'Blue Velvet'. I wish I could live 'Blue Velvet'."

16. Whereabouts would you find the human tragus?

Jonathan: "That's a hard one…I'd say the face. Fuck, it's the head. Is it a bone? The ear. Morturary College comes in handy again."

17. Which rap band sampled a riff from Slayer's Angel of Death?

James: "Public Enemy, 'She Watch Channel Zero?!'. When we were 18, we used to play that in the recording studio."

18. Name the four horeseman of the apocalypse.

James: "Martin Sheen, Marlon Brando, Dennis Hopper"

Jonathan: "There's the white horse, the brown one..."

19. Which comedian recorded a live album and vidoe called 'no cure for cancer'?

James: "Denis Leary. He's raw, man. He's hosting a new comedy over here, called 'London Underground' or something.”

20. What are the ingredients of a good bloody mary?

James: “Vodka, tomato juice, celery, tabasco, and a dash of pepper."

Jonathan: "Worcester sauce and maybe some long green beans. They're great for a hangover, and on a plane too. I don't know why, but God they're good."

21. What do the opposite sides of a dice total?

Jonathan: "Seven, I know that from shootin craps."

Kerrang!: "Isn't that a tad messy? Boom ching, I thank you."

22. Spell the word enema.

Jonathan: "E-N...There's a 'Y' in it. fuck it. E-N-Y-M-A."

23. if a Londoner said that they were going to "up the apples and pears", what would they mean they are doing?

Jonathan: "Fucking— drinking? We have no clue.“

Kerrang!: "Up the stairs."

Jonathan: "Okay, I've gotta remember that. 'I'm going up the apples and pears, man.'"

24. How many centimeters are there in a foot?

James: "A hundred?"

25. Which is the correct saying: the yolk of an egg is white, or the yolk of an egg are white?

Jonathan: "The yolk of an egg is white, no?"

Kerrang!: "It's yellow.”

James: "Oh, man. that's like 'which is heavier, a pound of rocks or a pound of feathers?'. That is cool."

[keanuquotes]

As Keanu confirms — it started with “Lust,” the title of the seventh song on Dogstar’s Somewhere Between the Power Lines and Palm Trees (releasing October 6), and the first they wrote for the new album. He flashes pages from his spiral-bound notebook, symbols, words, and letters that look more like sanskrit. “The guys call it my hieroglyphics,” he says, of his coded method of keeping track while they’re building a song.

“Sunrise,” the album’s eventual ninth track, came second, and this may be the theme of the whole album, as well as Dogstar’s official return to the music scene after 20 years: warm, bright, hopeful with a heavy dose of pull-at-your-heartstrings nostalgia, as only an authentically alt-rock ‘90s band can do. While internationally their names might not carry the same recognition, within the band, they are the sum of three equally vivid parts: singer-guitarist Bret Domrose, bassist Keanu Reeves, and drummer Robert Mailhouse. It’s this triality that sparks reference to that ancient Greek philosopher who proclaimed the number three the best of all numbers — and the most harmonious.

“I guess it's just who we are. Hey, we're warm people,” Bret jokes with a laugh, and though the ease and deep friendship these three share speaks for itself, the overall grungy-summery sound was actually the overall endgame. Robert credits producer Dave Trumfio for bringing “beautiful, layered, lush, warm tones in combination with what we came up with ourselves.”

“We specifically looked for a vintage Neve mixing console because we wanted that warm, fat '70s sound,” Bret adds, explaining the band’s process of choosing studios based on gear. “Lyrically, I try to keep hope as an undercurrent. Musically…if we go to a dark spot or something, we don't spend too much time there.

“That's just the way we craft songs…with some hope.”

No need to call the new album a comeback. They’ve been plenty busy over the last two decades, keeping in touch and even playing together, as friends — who also happen to be bandmates — do. On this mid-September afternoon, they’re just now back on their Southern California home turf after two shows in Yokohama and Osaka. Ironically, as Bret recalls, it was in Japan where they had their “last” show in 2003, after which they decided to pause. “We came back [from Japan in 2003] and it was just one of those things where we just took a break and then everyone went their own way, different musically, and just expanded and tried different things,” Bret explains. “We always stayed together and we were always friends.”

Time passed and lots changed, namely the industry, and the strengthened climate of artists’ creative control. This time, the guys were determined to be in charge.

“There was just such a machinery that we didn't have to contend with this time,” Bret says, describing the process of creating the new album as a fresh experience. “There was just so much garbage back in the day that now, this time around, we realized, ‘Wow. We could be in charge of this thing. We don't need a record company right now. We can do this all ourselves and we can even release it ourselves, and the music will get heard.’”

This time, Dogstar would focus on the music they wanted to create. “If you're an artist, you're sculpting or painting, you're going to start a new project, you never go, ‘This painting has to be a hit,’” Robert says. “I think all those years that passed really helped in a way because when we got back together, that's exactly what happened. We got into a room and we made sounds, and we started building music without thinking anything other than pleasing ourselves.”

They all agreed: At this stage, they were going to start with songs they liked. They’d create music for themselves. Robert remembers Keanu’s let’s-see-what-happens attitude as a “refreshing” start.

“Roast the chicken and see if it burns,” Bret says with a laugh.

“It's this kind of step-by-step approach…” Robert recalls. “It was like a tasting kitchen...let's try the bouillabaisse.”

“Then at the end, we opened a restaurant,” Bret smiles, carrying the joke.

Keanu leans forward, for emphasis, proclaiming: “Rock ‘n roll!”

“You’ve got the lights…you got the waft of cigarette smoke coming in the back door…it was old-school good times,” Bret says of their July show at The Roxy, “a good, old Hollywood, Sunset Boulevard rock night…you look out five rows into the audience and there’s Steven Tyler dancing. You got that going.”

Their DIY/anti-corporate/non-conformist attitude from the beginning should give a hearty glimpse into why these guys create music. Good. Old Hollywood. Sunset Boulevard. Rock night. That’s Dogstar, in sum, not simply because they were formed in Los Angeles, but because their reputation as a kick-ass live band is eternally fixed, their garage-band inception firmly rooted in their souls and sound.

Keanu agrees that a true garage band is a state of mind. Or heart. “Because we get together and we fucking play music and we start to jam and we start to just play.”

“It’s that same energy, for sure,” Bret agrees. “It's that same energy that you have when you're a kid…when you're starting out and you're doing it for all the right reasons. You don't care if your ears are ringing at the end of the day because you're in too small of a space, your amp is too loud, or whatever it is. All that not caring, that's what makes a good record, I think. That's what makes a cohesion between the band members, too.”

“I think we're a marriage of that,” Keanu says. “Now we're a marriage or an integration of that garage band with caring and trying to keep that spirit of that, but take in our experiences and how we want to care about our music and it works.”

Bret starts: “Yes, I think over the years, we've learned to file off the rough edges a bit and how to use the equipment properly and how to—“

“We're pro now,” Keanu quips, and the guys erupt in laughter.

“We're a pro garage band now!” Bret says.

“The pro garage band,” Keanu says. Everyone is still laughing.

“Thanks to Rob, we have a nicer garage,” Bret says.

From their initial jam sessions up to the actual recording, they’ve managed to preserve that authentically stripped-down “pro garage band” sound on Somewhere Between the Power Lines and Palm Trees. In a world of filters and special effects, they’ve chosen a more honest, old-school route. “Hit songs” are amongst the many words they never mention. “Chart success,” “singles,” and “algorithm” are a few notable others that never come up. That means that the undeniably happy alt-pop riffs on “Everything Turns Around,” as well as the strummy, Manchester-movement-eque “Upside” were unintentional, undeniable (sorry, guys, but someone has to say it) ready-made commercial hits.

And no, not every song sounds like this, that wouldn’t make sense for an album-journey album. “Glimmer” — a moody, swelling alt-serenade — is and should be a live-show staple, its crowd at the ready to sing and sway along with thumb-operated, gas-station-purchased flame lighters.

All that said, the album refreshingly lacks predictability. Take the Eastern-influence break on “Lust,” for instance. “You could hear a sitar…out of nowhere,” Robert says, delightedly, recalling Dogstar’s 1999 performance at the Zee Cine Awards in Mumbai, followed by a “drum-off” on the hotel rooftop, as “the most surreal moment of our lives.” No matter how surreal, there’s no doubt some shred of the experience can be heard on “Lust,” a little over a minute in.

Bret recalls the Eastern-influenced break came out of one of their jam sessions. Keanu looks at his “hieroglyphics” treatise to recount the process, like an ancient scholar: “We have here…we go to Rob's house, there's a verse, and then we go, a disco funk, all-star jam. Then I crossed out “funk,” and then it went to the High A, and then we have the Indian [break] put in there. That's, I guess, where Bret started to go into the Indian influence of holding that A and the tension there…”

Somewhere Between the Power Lines and Palm Trees ends with “Breach,” an unapologetic grinder — to use Bret’s words — “a punctuation mark” at the end of this here-comes-the-sun album journey. This is not the hearts-and-flowers sendoff. It’s more of the wake-the-fuck-up-people sendoff. As Robert says, “we digged in a little harder.” Bret explains that they intentionally ended this journey — the album journey — this way.

“It’s a bit of fun cold water,” Keanu says. “It’s a cliffhanger.”

“This genre, it's a lost thing. If you listen to the radio, things are so different now,” Robert says, describing Dogstar as “just three guys playing their instruments…it's not that complicated…it's not the mainstream anymore like it used to be.”

Through the decades, and after all they’ve been through, they’re idealistic. And you can feel it on the album – raw human emotion, the same that inspired them in their early years. “You can't trick people into believing you,” Bret says, after a passionate citing of some of his most influential musical imprints: Hüsker Dü, the Clash, Elton John.

Honest and inspired, Somewhere Between the Power Lines and Palm Trees fully reflects these three guys, the stories of their lives over the last three decades, and exactly who they are.

“Rock is what keeps you young,” Bret says. “30 years times three guys' lives…that's 90 years of living. That's a lot of shit that could happen, that did happen. It ain't all good and it ain't all bad, but it's all in these songs. It sounds hippie-dippy corny, but there's a little bit of every year of our lives in these songs, I think. In that sense, [it’s] a mature endeavor.”

“This is who we are now,” Keanu says. “We're all over 50. I think to what Robert was saying…the influences that we have are coming through us into how we interpret, but also what we create in the moment. I think that's individually and collectively…that's what Dogstar is. It's like all of these personal things and then us collectively coming out with this music that would not happen if it wasn't the three of us.

“Individually, none of us would write a Dogstar song, but collectively, with who we are as artists and who we are, when we all come together and start to make music together…the sum of the parts is Dogstar.”

[ackackh]

well this maybe a little excessive but 🍊 🍋 🍈 🫐 🍇, if you will!

Thank you for the ask, anon! This is too long and I don’t regret it! 💕

🍊 Who’s a character you don’t write for that often, but keep meaning to write for more? (They’re so interesting! But maybe you have trouble pinning them down, or keep getting distracted by another blorbo…)

There. Are. So. Many. The first character who came to mind tho is Doc Bryan. I wrote 5k words of a fic forever ago from his POV and I loved working in that space but I also find his voice really hard to pin down. One day I will finish it and you’ll get to read all about how when you’re sad it helps to fuck a friend. (Ray)

🍋 What’s your favorite spicier trope to write?

MMMM this is a hard one because I feel like I’m still finding my voice in this area. Uh I do love writing a first-time scene tho. And first time bottoming? Yes pls. Literally it’s in both the aforementioned Doc fic (Ray) and in DOGSTAR. (Andy) I feel like the general consensus in the fandom is that Eddie bottoms, which I also like, but I’m really into the idea of Andy specifically needing to let someone take care of him. Eddie is happy to help.

🍈 Who’s your blorbo and what are some of your favorite headcanons/ideas about them that repeatedly show up in your fics? Free pass to rant about blorbo opinions.

Ray, my truest blorbo, I have put him in Blender as a 3D model and am rotating him as we speak. Of course I love the motor-mouthing, but my favorite thing about him is that he’s so fucking intelligent underneath that. Like the most perceptive motherfucker. In God Is a Bluegill, he is constantly noticing EVERYTHING, especially how other people are feeling, and that 100% informs his behavior. Boy is a sponge. And his mania is either a medication for himself or for others and either way, I do think it’s genuine, I just think he also uses it as a social tool.

Also, if I’m writing BradRay, I love to make him quietly suffer. Little queer guy from Missouri, he’s internalized the idea that he doesn’t get to have what he wants, so he doesn’t even try to attain it. So while Brad is either pining after someone else, or hung up on his ex, Ray is like, ‘I’m gonna be the best friend, I’ll be whatever you need.’ And it’s BAD FOR HIM. There are similar things going on in the Doc fic as well, Ray wanting to do whatever he can to hold his friends together, likely at his own personal risk.

Damn, I need to finish that Brad-gets-dumped-during-OIF fic.

🫐 What’s your favorite underrated thing in your fandom? (A ship that only you seem to write for, a character there’s almost no fics about, a trope that criminally hasn’t been written yet, etc.)

I’m pretty pleased with what the HBOWar fandom has to offer, we have so many talented writers who have lots of different ideas, so it’s hard to think of what I’m missing. I’d love to see more Doc Bryan POV, obviously I’m currently thinking on him a lot.

Here’s something I’ve wanted to write about because I love projecting and you can’t stop me: gimme transmasc Ray. I need a fic where his mania, his bravado, his insight into others are all things he’s developed to protect himself throughout his life. Like, I get we’d have to write around a lot of stuff with the Marines, but trans soldiers, at the very least, did/do exist in Middle East deployments, so I feel like we could suspend our disbelief a lil bit. Also foaming at the mouth for an E rated fic featuring this. For reasons. Ahem 😅

🍇 Is there a particular scene/episode/book/etc that you want to just write a million fics about, over and over? Which one?

Not to be on my AndyEddie bullshit again, but I could write over and over again about Andy and the day Eddie died. I’m visiting it way too much in DOGSTAR. But in my defense, I’m focusing a lot more on trauma in this version and in a world in which either survived, I think Eddie getting hit on the ridge would have fundamentally changed Andy. Especially, as is the case in this fic, if Andy believed Eddie was dead and not just wounded.

[starrsomebody]

MARS Fan Fiction

Speak it into existence and watch it manifest.

Jill raised $500k on her fundraising. She got the VIP platinum card for Jared Leto and 30 Seconds To Mars.

Jill went to the Cassville Airport and got on the waiting plane. After a 3 hour flight, she got to the Los Angeles airport where she was met by Jamie. She was brought to Jared Leto's house. Jared opened the door and gave her a hug. He showed her the room she would be in.

He gave her a tour of his house. It had beautiful art and the furnishings were neo modern. He had a climbing room with rock wall, meditation room, recording studio, large warehouse movie set, movie room, and car collection. There were Editors, Mars Shop, and Advertising rooms.

The next night there was to be a Cast Party. Jill needed a new dress and shoes for the party. So Shayla took Jill shopping and she found a perfect dress in lavender and sequins. She got matching shoes.

The rest of the day Jared and Jill went over the #spencergregmovie script. Jared gave her a laptop. She pulled the script up and made any changes that needed to be made. His staff had printed up 30 scripts for the cast and contracts.

That night was movie night and Jill finally got to see John Wick 4. There was a popcorn machine with a refrigerator with drinks and a candy box.

Jill and Jared talked about all kinds of things. They found out that they had a lot in common They had been texting each other for several months. The month was January. They felt they could make this movie in 31 days.

The next night was the Cast Party. The turnout was great. All 30 actors showed up. There was a buffet and open bar. They also had entertainment. The host was Jim Carrey. He did impressions and was very funny. Then Landau Eugene Murphy Jr. did two songs. Then Ivy Levan came on and did two songs. Then Vedder Gabriel and Too Loud band played two songs. Then Dogstar came on and did two songs. It was great to see Keanu Reeves on bass. Then Hollywood Vampires came on and it was great to see Johnny Depp on guitar.

Jill announced that the movie was to start shooting on Monday. It was a beautiful Saturday night. Then they played the soundtrack of the #spencergregmovie. The main theme song was Life Is Beautiful by 30 Seconds To Mars. She called off some names that would be in the first two days of filming. She announced that they would be making the movie in 31 days. That the Actors would get a call 2 days before they were to report to the Movie Studio. She announced that there was a table with scripts and contracts. The evening winded down and the Actors left.

"Thanks so much for doing my movie. You are making my dreams come true. " Jill said smiling.

"No problem. This is going to be a great movie." Jared said while grabbing his guitar and start playing some chords. He started singing Jill's lyrics.

"Wow, you made a great song with my lyrics." Jill said.

"We are going to Universal tomorrow." Jared said smiling.

"That sounds wonderful! Jill said smiling

There was a knock on the door and Jared answered it. It was Dogstar and Hollywood Vampires!

"Hello. We finally meet. We have been texting and now I get to meet you." Jill said hugging them.

"Jill, I'm Keanu and this is Johnny Depp. Here is Bret and Rob and Joe and Alice." Keanu smiled and gave Jill a hug.

"I loved your albums. I heard them on Spotify." Jill said taking pictures of them.

"We brought gifts! Here are our tshirts and cds that we signed." said Keanu.

Jill was thrilled and hugged them.

"We are going to Universal tomorrow if you want to go" Jared said.

"What do you think guys? Do you want to go to Universal tomorrow?" Keanu asked.

The guys made a huddle and talked about it

"Sure, we will go too. Thanks for asking us." Johnny said.

[blue-mood-blue]

Juno’s vision fizzes out right around where the man’s face should be.

He rubs his eye. The interference doesn’t go anywhere, and he sighs. He’s already tired - always is, lately - but this, at least, is not on him. Will the wonders of modern technology never end, he thinks, and there’s a ping at the back of his head of what is probably admonishment. I’m right, he thinks back, stubborn.

The man sits down at his table. Juno leans back; the shadow already obscures his features, but something about not seeing the expression on the face of his unexpected guest makes Juno want to sink farther into the darkness. He doesn’t like being looked at - call it paranoia, call it being shy, whatever. When you have one person in the world - another ping at the back of his head - one and a half people in the world, being generous, most people’s attention loses its appeal.

Juno waits. He doesn’t talk much, anymore. His voice is... uniquely recognizable.

The man is probably smiling; his tone sounds teasing, and that’s about all Juno can glean from the unnaturally stilted sound. Audio distortion, too - whoever this is, the chip in Juno’s neck is throwing a blanket over Juno’s head in an outdated and unneeded attempt at protection. He would get angry, or suspicious, or march over to his partner in crime with a scalpel and demand it out of him, damn the consequences... but he knows the feeling of that shadow in his head, now. The chip doesn’t know why this is happening.

“Do I have the good fortune of speaking to one of the pair people are calling ‘the new Buddy and Vespa’?” The man is tall and skinny, and folds himself into the seat across from Juno like it was left out for him. Juno feels one of his fists clench and hopes the scowl isn’t clear on his face, visible or otherwise.

He’d like to correct the man; he’s not trying to be anyone else. Juno doesn’t speak. His voice would be a dead giveaway.

“Not much for conversation, hm? That’s fine. We don’t have much to talk about.” The man leans closer. Juno guesses that the look directed at him now is one of quiet intimidation; he can’t say, since the features are blurring out like static on an ancient television screen. “You’re here for the Maxine Rutherford job. I’m here to tell you to drop it.”

Juno tenses, and the thief - because that’s what he must be, if he’s here to talk another thief out of a job - must pick up on it, because he chuckles. “It’s a big ask, I’m aware. There’s a pretty penny to be had - that experimental technology is worth an incredible amount of money on its own, and that’s not even touching what might be gained from selling her out to a competitor.” There’s something in the way the thief is sitting, the set of his shoulders - or maybe it’s just the chip in Juno’s neck, setting off urgent warning signals. This is a threat. “But I need you to understand something. Maxine Rutherford is mine. And you do not want to be in my way when I get to her.”

Juno pushes the panic button in his head, the one that will bring Jet running. And he’ll need to run, because Juno’s about to do something incredibly stupid.

“Not if I get to her first,” Juno says in two voices. The thief is still, and if he’s afraid, Juno doesn’t blame him. He remembers the way he felt, the first time he heard the Theia layered under his words.

~~~

The detour wasn’t part of Buddy Aurinko’s plan. Even calling it “on the way” would have been generous; the Carte Blanche should have passed it like it had a hundred other space stations, and it would have. It would have, except for the seven names Rita had been listening for ever since she left Hyperion.

“It doesn’t hafta mean anything,” she’d told Juno, holding her tablet to her chest and looking nervous. He remembers thinking it wasn’t her usual kind of nervous, with fretful energy and too much talking - she’d been holding onto the tablet like it was the only thing keeping her tethered to the ground. “Maybe it’s not even the same person, but. But I was doin’ some listening, you know, and a name came up, and.” Juno remembers thinking she looked almost sick, saying it out loud. “One of those names. And the soul.”

Juno doesn’t know what he thought he could do about it. He’d wanted to try, and when he and Rita went to Buddy, when he’d forced the bones of what happened in Hyperion from his throat and onto the kitchen table during a family meeting... they’d all wanted to try. Maybe that had been his mistake, Juno considers. He could have been quiet. He could have let it go.

It started with an infiltration. The Dogstar Space Station was small, relatively, but it was still the size of two major cities; finding Maxine Rutherford in the crowd would take some looking, with or without Rita’s ‘listening.’ Juno and Jet would go first, bumbling tourists who might, if they were lucky, stumble across a newly-acquired lab space. The idea was to uncover everything they could - location, security systems, layout, plans - and then get back to the ship to decide a next step. Juno packed for a short surface stay. He pulled the last Theia soul from where he’d stowed away in the back of a drawer and, after a long moment and with no clear reason, put it in his pocket. He squeezed Rita and whispered in her ear that he’d be okay when she had a hard time letting go. He kissed Nureyev and promised to call. He walked away and he didn’t look back.

Twenty-four hours later, the siege started.

That’s what the reporters on the hotel’s screen called it, while Juno and Jet sat on the edge of the couch and watched everything change. Some kind of hostile takeover, a grab for power or property or... something. The reporters didn’t know, and if the way they looked off-camera during their reports was any hint, there wouldn’t be time to find out.

If there are gaps in his memory after that, Juno thinks it can only be that he doesn’t want to remember. There’s him, running behind Jet through streets that are eerily quiet and terrifyingly loud by turns. Hiding, and running, and hiding - the thought that it’s a good goddamn chance Jet seems to know where he’s going because Juno is already lost, the shouting of soldiers behind them, the emblem on a ship Juno spends just a little too long looking at because something is wrong. The two of them finding a back entrance to the docks, using the chaos to cover them. The... wreck.

Juno will never forget the wreck.

They must have hit the docks first, is his first thought. It’s the last semblance of reason over the high, keening sound that’s enveloping the rest of his brain - they must have hit the docks first so no one could get out, they must have destroyed every waiting ship to keep the people of the Dogstar Space Station right where they were, because there is nothing but wreckage and broken parts.

Juno might have screamed. It might have been Jet. It might have been someone else, any voice out of hundreds speaking for all of them: loss, despair, desperation. It didn’t matter; the damage was done, and they were alone.

Jet held his hand. Weeks, months - however long they survived on the Dogstar after that, it was with Jet holding his hand and Juno clinging back. There were names they didn’t say for a long, long time but they held onto each other while the soldiers-who-weren’t-soldiers rounded up stragglers and led them to the government facilities that didn’t belong to any government Juno had ever heard of. They were lucky enough to have each other, but it didn’t feel like luck; it felt like borrowed time.

(He said he would call, and he did. He called, once, and he didn’t know what he expected - but he got no answer, and if he dropped his communicator the next time they ran, well, who was going to miss him?)

“I get it, if you hate me,” Juno said into the dark of the shelter they’d found, a hidden nook between big, steel beams of a bridge. “For her. For all of them.”

“I do not hate you, Juno.”

He didn’t know if that felt better or worse. “You should. You’re the only one left to feel anything about it, and they deserve -” He didn’t finish the thought. He didn’t need to; Jet knew already.

A relapse, Juno will call it later. Healing is not linear, not when the wounds are torn back open every other day or so, and these things happen. Sometimes there’s a stumbling block on the way to better. And Jet will look at him, ask him if he’s any closer now, and Juno will tell him “a day closer than yesterday.” Jet will nod, because that’s all Jet ever asks of him.

Survival became an exhausting thing. When Juno knew the streets of a couple of districts of Dogstar like the back of his hand, he felt like a rat in a maze, nudged back and forth along pre-determined paths by uniformed sentries and reinforced vehicles. Jet had the kind of patience a person worked for, and Juno could see him clinging to the shreds of it; just shreds, because the hope of patching it back into a serene whole was less likely with every hole the two of them were flushed out of. It had always been only a matter of time before they stood outside of the lab doors and asked each other if they were going to do what they came here for.

Maxine Rutherford was on Dogstar. Maxine had been on Dogstar a long time, plenty long enough to set down roots for a research facility and collect a space station’s worth of subjects by force. If it looked like anything else from the outside, well, that was just a pretty face to convince everyone else that it wasn’t their problem and it wasn’t worth getting involved. The first news reports were of a siege, and that was the last outgoing message anyone received; by the time the theory fell apart, communication outside was an impossibility.

The reality was that Dogstar was a testing ground. Maxine had the Theia, and she had plans.

Juno and Jet became her personal annoyance. And it felt good, for a while; Juno felt alive, Jet laughed sometimes, and at last there was a purpose in being the ones left behind beyond dumb luck and timing. It felt good like another hit felt good, like dodging blaster fire close enough to feel the heat of it on your face felt good, and they would take what they could fucking get. There wasn’t anything else.

(They needed something, in that hell of a prison they were trapped in, with no guarantee that the people they saw were people the way they used to be. The reports they stole were horrifying and complex, and Juno was as frustrated as he was relieved he couldn’t parse the science of it. Bioengineering, maybe, or technology taught to behave like biology - a machine fed raw materials that grew them into circuitry, twisting and growing like roots into a person, along muscles and bones and into the brain and good luck, Hanataba, coming up with instructions to rid a person of an infestation that deep. Juno put down the reports. He pulled out his own Theia, considered crushing it under his foot - looked at the way Jet looked at it and knew he would understand if Juno gave in to that little violence - and then put it away. He talked about close escapes and running guards, and Jet laughed, and who cared if they were running along a cliff’s edge because they needed something.)

A relapse, Juno will call it later. An instinct he thought he’d put away, dragged back out of him into daylight. In hindsight, he could even see it coming.

Maxine had gotten sick of them, clearly; her guards were better armed every time Juno and Jet went in, and the escapes were getting closer. The thought of can we afford to do this anymore had been pushed back by well, what else are we going to do and it was a compelling argument, especially to a couple of people carrying their grief along with them everywhere.

It only took a second. Out of the corner of his eye, Juno saw it: one of the guards unclipping something from his belt. There was just enough time to think he wouldn’t, he’s too close, he’d get caught in the blast, just enough time to see the look in his eye and think if he has the Theia and he thinks this is for the greater good, he would. Just enough time to push Jet forward and press the button for the door.

Jet has to tell him what happened next, and he does, eventually - by stops and starts, in pieces, and it’s the way he tells the story that tells Juno how much it hurt. When Jet opened the door, Juno was... broken. He may have been dead already; Jet didn’t stop to check. He scooped him up like a doll and carried him away, deeper into the lab until he found a room with a reclining chair and a looming machine hanging over it.

Here, he always pauses. “I could not be alone, Juno,” he explains. “I could not lose you too, after everyone else. I could not.”

There were instructions. He needed a Theia and he had one, fished out of Juno’s pocket. He didn’t know if he was making the right decision, so he held his emotions at arms’ length, leaned into his work with the quiet, steady determination required of him in a dusty clinic hidden beneath Mars’ surface, and he knit Juno back together again with filaments of woven metal.

(So much later that it feels like a different life, Juno gets to see it. The scanner picks up the roots that wrap around him, concentrated on the back of his neck at the base of his skull. They’re in his muscles, his bones, around his brain. Tiny, delicate, firm, and Juno can trace the fault lines that would have killed him in their paths.)

Juno didn’t dream, he tells Jet later. When he woke up there was just a heaviness in his mind that he didn’t understand yet, the lab, and Jet standing next to him. When Jet looked down on him, he looked so angry that Juno was sure he was going to scream until he was hoarse - but Jet pulled him close and held him like he was something breakable.

“Never again,” he whispered, and he sounded so pained that Juno was already nodding into his shoulder, agreeing to whatever he said. “You will never do that again. You will not make that choice, for me or anyone else.”

They stayed away from the labs. Jet held his hand all the time while Juno remembered and relearned how to walk, how to move his body, how to deal with the heaviness of his mind. Every time he spoke, Jet squeezed his hand harder... and eventually, Juno just spoke less. He could hear it talking from his mouth. If he had more energy, that would have terrified him. But Juno had other things to be afraid of.

There was something else in his head. It didn’t speak; it could have, maybe - it had the last time it had been there, supplying him with information and rote instructions and orders. The Theia didn’t use words anymore, by choice or by limitation, and it’s presence was still inescapable.

Juno didn’t talk about it at first, the ideas and images that came from nowhere. They were tentative and reserved, and it was so unlike what he was used to that he was half-convinced it was all him and the disjointed feeling was just... the result of shoddily-repaired brain damage. That was a thought awful enough that it didn’t bear repeating to Jet, who already looked at Juno in the silence sometimes like he was asking himself how much he’d broken by trying to fix him. Juno shoved the whispers back into the shadows, and they went willingly; he never met resistance, and that convinced him he was right. His head didn’t work the way it used to, but nothing did; it was another adjustment while they picked their way over the ruined station.

And then he answered a question Jet hadn’t asked.

Juno stormed into his own mind. Jet saw the glaze of his eye, took him by the shoulders and called his name to coax him back out, but Juno was flooded by frantic, overlapping images of radio towers and the repair of something he didn’t know was still floating in his blood. For communication, the Theia said without words. For the kind of communication the chip knew better than spoken language - direct transmission.

Direct transmission.

It was the beginning of an idea. It was the only thing stopping Juno from doing something they’d all regret, ripping the chip back out and to hell with it.

Juno spent a lot of time in his own head after that. He poked, he prodded, he looked for traps. The Theia didn’t have anything to offer - the Theia didn’t have anything to hide. He was given the impression of a long, dark quiet, a nothing; even disconnected and not operating, something in the chip had... stayed awake. Being where it was now felt like a second chance.

There are a lot of other people I’d rather give second chances to, Juno snapped out bitterly, silently. The chip already knew. Hard to keep secrets in his own head.

Juno pushed farther. He pushed out, and sometimes Jet turned to look at him, a strange expression on his face. Sometimes, a radio hissed and whined with feedback, or a screen popped and shuddered, or he and Jet stopped walking when Juno’s view was suddenly too high. Whatever Juno’s head was doing, it didn’t work like it had before - where that invasion used to operate something like a two-way knife, now it was a battering ram, ungraceful and swinging wildly. The repair the machine and the chip had attempted in tandem was a miserable patch job at best, dangerous at worst, and Juno pushed anyway. Jet asked him about it once, and Juno let him into his head instead of answering, invited him right in to see the mess of complicated feelings and uncertainty. Jet reached for his hand.

Every day, Juno found something new. It was the worst kind of game, running up against walls: a new rat maze that he was running mostly alone, but never really alone because he was never really alone anymore. He stuttered like anything over Rita’s name, out loud and to himself. The chip caught stray transmissions and placed them right in Juno’s head, a disorienting mix of updates from the lab and tentative calls from survivors. Some memories took a long time to recall, and some weren’t his. And he ached, he ached with every step while his body healed around him.

They walked. They hid. They planned. And when they reached the dock’s communication hub, Juno leaned his forehead against a transmission tower, exhausted all the way through, and gave everything to one last attempt.

(“Symbiosis,” he says later, so much later in a different life and a different world, the kind of life that has room for beds and money for transport to other places; the kind of life that calls them thieves instead of survivors. Jet looks over at him with a raised eyebrow; if that word in two voices upsets him, he’s good at not showing it - but Juno knows better. He knows. “That’s the word for it.”

“The word for what?”

“For me. For... us.” Juno looks up at the ceiling. Jet knows which ‘us’ Juno means - he knows. “We’d be dead without each other. I get held together and it gets to exist. Symbiotes.”

Jet hums. “You are more than a chip’s second chance to be, Juno.”

“But I’m that too,” Juno says in two voices. “I’m always that, too.”)

They get away from Dogstar. Of course they do; if Dogstar and its destruction couldn’t kill them, if a tossed bomb and losing absolutely everyone and everything couldn’t finish them off, maybe they just weren’t meant for death. One call makes it through the communication barrier with enough memorized confidential information to send several planetary governments scrambling into action and Juno sleeps for a week, but no one besides two and maybe a half people know the connection. Jet carries Juno onto one of the ships sent in to clean up the mess and hides them in a distant corner; they don’t speak, and eventually concerned authority figures leave them alone. When they land somewhere - anywhere - else, Jet leads them away from the ship.

It feels like a rebirth. It feels like a second chance that Juno isn’t sure he deserves, but won’t waste - if not for his sake, for theirs. For Jet’s.

Maxine Rutherford gets away, too. She’s long gone by the time the authorities descend, no doubt trying to sink her roots into some new place, and when Juno picks up that transmission from a closed, secure line and shares it with Jet, there’s no discussion. They’ll do this, one more time, for the right reasons. After that? After that is anyone’s guess.

Jet and Juno waste no time; the flurry of criminal activity in their wake inspires rumors and nicknames, and when Juno thinks to ask Jet if that bothers him, Jet chuckles.

“The legend lives on,” he says. “I think they would be pleased.”

~~~

“I’m guessing that means you poached our contact,” Juno mutters. He’s annoyed enough about the waste of his time that he has no reservations about subjecting his guest to more of his voice - and the thief is unnaturally still, which is satisfying and offensive at the same time. “What, did the people who told you the nickname not warn you about the voice?”

“Let me see your face.”

The flatness of his tone is obvious, even with the audio distortion. Juno frowns; he can’t picture what kind of expression goes along with a tone like that, and it makes him uneasy. “...why?”

“Please.” He hasn’t moved an inch. Juno would wonder if he was still breathing except that he keeps talking. “I just need to... please.”

Not without seeing his first, Juno thinks. He doesn’t have to ask the chip to know that it’s working on it, but it’s the kind of work that’s going to take months of concentrated effort - reclaiming Rita’s name taught him that, and that’s still not a sure thing.

Jet, stop where you are.

I am almost there.

That’s great, big guy, but I need your eyes for a second and if we do that while you’re moving, you’re gonna run into something.

Juno can feel the skepticism; no lying to him in his own head. If you say so, he says anyway. What do you need?

Somebody stole our meeting and I need to see his face - the distortion on this guy is something else. Can you take a look and tell me what you see?

Jet doesn’t answer in words; he doesn’t need to. He looks, and the inside of Juno’s head is quiet for a long time. Juno, he thinks, and there’s a strange echo that usually only comes from him -

“Juno?”

Juno, it’s -

But Juno doesn’t need to be told. He knows. There’s no evidence for him to point to, but he knows the person who would say his name like that, can hear what it would sound like in the right voice in his memory.

Juno leans forward. “Nureyev?”

[tmisaccidentreportbook]

MAG006, Squirm

Case #0140912, Timothy Hodge Release date: April 4, 2016 First listen: 14th October. The latter half of the walk to work. I’ve got vague memories of pulling some horrified faces as I passed over the canal bridge.

I was forewarned of MAG006. I was advised to proceed with caution. Oh boysies… Yikes. Just yikes.

- ‘Regarding his sexual encounter.’ wretch… On the one hand, I appreciate Jonny’s word choice here to try and be as clinical as possible, but on the other it is feels so dehumanising to Harriet, just so many not good feelings about this. Especially when delivered in The Archivist’s dry tones.

- I may be imagining it, but that sentence feels a little more leaden than his previous introductions. I remember my stomach dropping at the synopsis. I don’t need to listen to every true crime podcast or watch every ‘the making of a killer’ style documentary out there, to know there is a pattern and a trend. But that’s a fury for a different day.

- I remember taking an almost immediate dislike to the statement giver. It may have been coloured by what had been alluded was to come, but I did not care for the combination of an air of self importance about his work and a life outside it that seemed to exclusively be drinking and clubbing. I apologise, that sounds judgemental and I know that is a form of relaxation that many people rely on even if it is one I’d never choose, it’s only the combination of that, the work ethic and this man. It doesn’t seem sustainable and I think it frightens me, I think were it to have continued it may have fallen apart another way, not quite as violently but maybe not.

- Also, I did not care for his tone when he talked about missing ‘the regular weekend’, like he resented it. There are so many careers and lines of work that don’t have ‘the regular weekend’. I’ve not had a role with a ‘regular weekend’ since 2013. People have it so much harder. Urgh, I don’t like him.

- Looked up the Dogstar in Brixton. Wasn’t quiet what I was expecting. Looks a little more like something you’d find The Mechanisms in rather than a club night, at least in the day light. Although, yes, they do advertise a club night on Thursdays.

- ‘Now, I wasn’t particularly looking to get laid that night, but I know I’m not an unattractive guy and I live local, so I’m always alert, shall we say-’ WRETCH, ugh God, nope. Rancid vibes and the The Corruption hasn’t even shown up yet.

- ‘Exactly the sort of girl I go for.’ Just the way he talks makes me so mad, I don’t understand. I don’t know what it is, anyone else could be using these phrases and yeah, I’d curl a lip maybe, but this guy has me wanting to shower in lye. What is this?! I hate it!

- ‘Writhe’ flailing around as if trying to swat bugs of myself

- ’looked less like a smile of anticipation and more like a smile of relief’ OK, gonna come clean here, I’m somewhere on the aroace spectrum, still working it out, but even with my frame of reference, if I’d noticed that and thought that on a perspective partner, I’d be pumping the breaks so hard and having a conversation in a well lit room, ideally with other people present.

- Asking for water, seemingly oblivious to the cold weather, scratching at herself… yeah, something’s metamorphosing in there…

- ‘She hadn’t been in London long, she said was originally from Salisbury and had been finding it difficult recently.’ Jonny discusses in the Q&As that a lot of The Corruption stems from needing a sense of belonging and being part of a greater whole. I could see how someone up rooting themselves from Salisbury, a medieval cathedral city in the Wiltshire countryside, to move to London could leave them scrambling, making them easy pickings for either The Lonely, if they let the isolation consume them, or The Corruption, if the drive for connections did.

- Salisbury, lovely place, sang in the cathedral a little over a decade ago, stone’s throw from Stonehenge if you needed a reference point.

- If nothing else, this podcast review is making me see how freaking fortunate and privileged I’ve been to visit so many places.

- The ‘mugging’ and the encounter with Jane Prentiss. The red dress ‘going very still’.

- ‘Wide staring eyes’, so at this stage, Prentiss, ugh God, still had eyes. This encounter took place over a year before the current time, so Prentiss has spent over a year as The Flesh Hive. Over a year, 20th November 2014 to 12th March 2016, between her assault on Harriet Lee and Martin escaping his flat she’d trapped him in.

- ‘Pain in her stomach’ Aaaaaaand all my worse fears from the parasitology module rear their heads ONCE AGAIN! We could be drawing on so many examples here; Alien, all the kinking oviposition stuff that’s out there, don’t think I don’t know about that shit. Just puts me in mind of parasitoid wasps.

- ‘Nothing obvious and to make an appointment with her doctor’ when Harriet went to the hospital. And once again, I am so grateful to work giving us little cards to take to medical appointments which basically boil down to ‘could it be any thing on this list of zoonotic diseases that otherwise would not even cross your mind?’

- I’ve looked at the map again. A direct route from Archway to Brixton takes you 8 miles across the city and across the river. 3 days of wandering.

- ‘(She) crying and I felt like a complete asshole for having brought the issue up.’ Nope, wrong, try again.

- ‘I know, I know, she was vulnerable and I feel like an a… But I swear I wasn’t trying to take advantage.’ SCREAMING, THROWING THINGS, BAYING FOR BLOOD. EVEN IF SHE WAS SAYING YES AND CONSENTING, IT WAS CLEAR THAT THERE WERE EXTERNAL FACTORS THAT MEANT SHE WAS MOST LIKELY NOT IN A MENTALLY STABLE STATE TO BE MAKING THESE DECISIONS, AND EVEN IF SHE WAS, YOU FELT AWARE THAT SOMETHING WAS WRONG. YOU COULD HAVE SAID NO.

- I am just grateful that we didn’t receive a description of either the sex nor the, erm, chrysalis breaking. But I don’t know about you guys, but sometimes having only the audio just lets your visual imagination run riot.

- ‘but something inside made me think that I didn’t want a good look inside that room’. That part of the human brain fascinates and terrifies me. That little voice, still there after millennia and impossibly from a time before we had language as we know it today, saying ‘no’. Some small, shaking animal part of our psyche that keeps us alive with fear. Fear keeping us alive, keeping us fighting, even if that means running with all we have.

- ‘Kill it with fire!’ is always a good instinct to have, but it feels to me that The Desolation sweeps in to play protector in this moment. The very moment the potential of Timothy Hodge’s life was lost, between the loss of his home, the investigation and the trauma.

- ‘This story is concerning. Not because of Mr. Hodge’s experience, although I’m sure it was very upsetting. If it was true, of course.’ Archivist… I can almost hear the ‘there, there’ in your voice.

- Charred organic remains, not human, but source never determined... I fucking dread to think about where exactly the inhabitants of The Flesh Hive would fall on the phylogenetic tree… get wrecked Carl Linnaeus.

- Archivist, how many of these have you read if you are at the stage where you are saying the sentence ‘that’s not really what concerns me either, though obviously it’s a tragic loss of life, etcetera, etcetera.’? Go outside, touch some grass, please.

- So Jane Prentiss is known to the Magnus Institute, and known well enough that the Archivist alerted the European Centre for Disease Prevention and Control, the ECDC. Although, a dark little part of me is looking at their tag line of ‘an agency of the European Union’, and wondering were exactly that leaves us, 2 years since Brexit.

- ‘We were unable to locate him to request a follow-up interview, and if he has had intercourse with one of Prentiss’ victims, then they’ll need to deal with him sooner rather than later. I just hope it’s not too late already.’… Archivist, it’s been over a year. If the man is lucky, then he’s dead.

- I think this statement could be seen as another tally against the idea of The Corruption finding an in through the search of love and unhealthy relationships. Timothy Hodge says he wasn’t looking for a relationship, regardless of what form it took, but his existence does seem to be an isolated one. Free lance work from home, no mention of collaborating colleagues or flat mates, any mention of friends was made in reference as to that they couldn’t join him, his scheduled isolating him further. He could have been a prime victim for The Lonely. But he wasn’t. He sought out humanity and connection, even if it was in the most anonymous ways; in dark clubs unable to learn faces, with loud music unable to hold conversations, with intoxication unable to remember or becoming something else under the effects. This mutation, this change, could be a chrysalis, could be infectious.

- And then I thought about how he spoke about Harriet in a predatory fashion, and then the parasitoid wasps were back in my head and there was penetration and nope, nope, don’t like this, Freud fuck off! Ew, ew, ew.

[just-here-for-the-moment]

TELL ME MORE ABOUT KEANU AND EYE CONTACT FOR 0.75 SECONDS IN 1997 👀👀👀

LOL His band, Dogstar, played a show at a small standing room only club and my friends and I got tickets. We got as close as we could for the opening band, got jostled around a bit, and ended up 3-4 people deep from the stage and kind of to the right (the stage was maybe 4 feet high, and there were security guards and speakers, but no barrier fences or anything to make a space between it and the audience - a really small club!

Anyway, when his band came on, it turned out that we had ended up right in front of his position. He was literally only 12 feet away. And I swear to god I didn't take my eyes off him for more than 2 seconds at a time. At one point during a song he was playing his bass and looked up and looked right at me!! And I smiled like an idiot and he did not react at all, LOL. Just neutral face and then looked back down at his bass. But it changed me... I had been obsessed with him for nearly 10 years at that point and I felt like I had accomplished my dream.

If I ever actually MEET the man you will have to scrape a Claire-shaped puddle off the floor. He's my longest-lasting, deepest celebrity crush, and I was so friggin happy when the rest of the Internet got on board and started really loving him a couple of years ago. He deserves it! 💖💖💖

[fortheloveoffanfic]

After Party

Keanu Reeves x Reader. Request (A/n- have some smutty, bass player Keanu on this Friday night. Edit: I can’t believe I used the wrong ‘bass’ the first time *cries in dumb*)

Warnings- SMUT/NSFW, casual sex

Keanu’s navy blue t-shirt was soaked through with exertion, clinging to his skin. The crowd roared excitedly and the air felt electric. Like his band mates, Keanu was lost in the feeling, high on both the music and their audience’s exuberance. He had never been a fan of the limelight, but that, that was different; playing the bass, his fingers working the instrument expertly and the wide grin splitting his lips was enough to tell anyone how much he loved it.

There were people around her, too much maybe, but Y/n didn’t care. Like most of the other concert goers, her hands were in the air as her body moved in time with the music and she’d probably had way too much to drink by then, her inhibitions slowly withering away. “Aren’t you glad we paid extra for the VIP tickets?” Her best friend, Haley yelled, her voice combating the music.

“Definitely!” Y/n returned loudly. Originally when they’d made plans to see Dogstar during her birthday trip to Las Vegas, Y/n and Haley had planned to snag themselves a couple of general admission tickets and spend the rest of their money on an extra hotel room, but somehow, Haley had convinced her that being in the front row and getting into the backstage meet and greet would be way better than sleeping in separate rooms, and by extension, separate beds. And, as it turns out, she was right. Seeing one of her favorite Indie-Rock bands like that wasn’t something she was going to forget very soon, even if she was already drunk. “I can’t believe it’s almost over!” Y/n whined after the front man announced that they were on their last set for the night.

“Are you kidding me?” Haley laughed loudly, “The night’s just getting started! We have the meet and greet and trust me, its just gonna take one look at your outfit to get you an invite to a private concert,” Haley wiggled her brows, her words slightly slurred.

“Yeah, okay,” Y/n rolled her eyes, “Because hot celebrities wanna fuck a part-time nanny,” she huffed, finishing off the drink from her red plastic cup.  

“You never know,” Haley winked, teasing as she clumsily brushed some hair out of her face.

After the concert was through, fans had started clearing the huge hall on the ground floor of the hotel, some leaving while others with VIP passes, and even those who’d managed to dupe the security, headed backstage for the meet and greet. Things were signed and pictures were taken, but at some point, fans had started to leave there too. All except for a small crowd of women who managed to grab the men’s attention. By some odd miracle, Y/n and Haley had found themselves in that crowd, engaging in giggly conversation and tipsy, flirty jokes. 

They were all seated in what seemed to be a small lounge area in a corner of the room, surrounded by instruments and other stage equipment. There; short, black, velvet upholstered sofas were arranged close together around a matching, low, round table, littered with drinks, plastic cups and beer bottles. There was even a rogue cigarette pack or two mixed into the clutter. Haley was on the end of the chair in front of the table, while Y/n was wedged between her friend and another girl who’s name she didn’t even know. Music played loudly and the aroma of liquor hung in the air, adding a certain ambiance to their low lit, makeshift party.

“Look at that,” Haley nudged Y/n’s arm, nodding her head towards the other side of the glass coffee table, where the band was sprawled out, drinks in hand. 

“What?” Y/n chortled, trying to see what Haley was seeing, no longer interested in whatever was going on around her.

“Look at him,” Haley nodded subtly to a man, maybe five years older that Y/n, dressed simply in t-shirt and jeans, his hair hidden by a beanie, “He’s totally checking you out,” sure enough, his dark gaze was fixed her, half of his lower lip caught between his teeth, skewing his halfhearted smirk. 

“That’s Keanu Reeves,” Y/n giggled quietly, “There’s no way he’s checking me out, he’s probably just looking at someone else. Or, you know, he’s drunk out of his mind.”

“Only one way to find out right?” Haley wiggled her brows, a bad idea clearly in the making. By most definitions, both Y/n and Haley were adrenaline seeking risk-takers. They liked the rush, excitement and partying till dawn if the opportunity arose. But even then, Y/n always thought that there was a line, even if it wasn't defined or out-rightly related to their situation, it was always there, and somehow, Haley almost always managed to cross it. Before Y/n could even protest, Haley was leaning forward, trying to get Keanu’s attention, “Hey,” she snapped and when he looked at her, she smiled, bright and mischievous, “Hi, I was wondering; are you checking out my friend?”

For a minute, Keanu seemed stunned, and Y/n internally cringed at Haley’s boldness. All she wanted was to be swallowed whole by a spontaneous fissure in the floor, or at the very least, to never cross paths with Keanu again. That might have been more likely. Though, when his initial bewilderment morphed into a confident smile, Y/n felt heat rise to her cheeks, “Well that depends,” he planted his elbows on his thighs and clasped his hands together, leaning over the table in Y/n’s direction.

Y/n huffed, tilting her head and letting her hair sweep carelessly over her shoulders, “On what exactly?”

Keanu moistened his lips, “On if you’re interested or not,” he scooted rather gracefully to the edge of his seat, and Y/n did the same. No one seemed to be paying them any mind, though, if they were, Y/n didn’t notice, “If you are, then maybe we could get out of here.”

Briefly, Y/n silently checked with Haley, who just gestured for Y/n go. “Okay,” she bit back a smile, only standing to follow Keanu’s lead. Watching him go, his band mates, Brett and Robert whooped and offered him a couple other noises of approval, though Y/n could tell that Keanu was largely ignoring them, snaking his arm around her waist and offering her a swing from a bottle of hard liquor that he had swiped.

“Where are we going?” They spilled out into the hotel’s lobby, squinting at the brightness, a stark contrast to the smoky dimness of the small room backstage. Because Vegas never really slept, the lobby still buzzed with life, guests moving in and out and the casino opposing the auditorium showed no signs of closing soon, even if it was well past midnight. 

“Well,” Keanu looked around, “We could play poker,” he gestured to the tables peeking through the grand doorway, “Or I could take you up to my room.”

Y/n huffed, a small smile still tugging at her lips. In another instance, she might have pushed him away, disgusted by his arrogance in thinking that she'd willingly go to his room. But she was drunk past caring and she’d be lying if Y/n said the thought hadn’t crossed her mind. Snatching the bottle, she stole a few more mouthfuls, the tequila burning her throat as it went down, creating a warmth in her stomach that seemed to spread through her veins. Turing in his arm, Y/n cocked an eyebrow, “Lead the way hotshot.”    

Scoffing a chuckle, Keanu led her to the elevator, which turned out to be surprisingly empty on the way up. His hand around her slid to Y/n’s back, settling on the curve of her ass, just as she turned to kiss him, heated and hungry. “You know,” he mumbled against her lips, walking until he had Y/n pressed up against on side of the elevator, the reflective metal of the wall cool against her bare thighs and exposed arms, Keanu’s large calloused hands now on her waist, underneath her lace blouse, “I’ve been watching you all night, dancing with your friend. Anyone ever tell you that you look fucking sexy when you dance?”

Y/n’s pupils were blown with lust and she could feel Keanu’s hard on dig into her stomach, restrained by his jeans. As he spoke, his hands skimmed her body, passing over her mini skirt only to dip under the hem, going cup and squeeze her ass, “No,” Y/n moaned, arching into Keanu’s chest when  he lowered his lips to her neck, trailing kisses from her jaw, going downwards, his stubble rough on her skin.

“Well, you do,” he breathed, his lips warm and wet on her soft, silky skin as he sucked the sensitive spot behind her ear, “You kept distracting me, like a little vixen,” he growled, curling his palms under her thighs, hosting her up into his arms, Y/n’s legs, “And I don’t even know your name.”

“Y/n,” she offered breathily, “Nice to meet you,” she giggled.

“Keanu,” he returned, though, Y/n didn’t need an introduction to know who he was, “Nice to meet you too.” Less than a beat later, Keanu resumed his onslaught on her neck, eventually scooting her up some more so he could bury his face in the valley of her breasts. Y/n’s head lolled back, one hand travelling to shove off his beanie and grip a fistful of Keanu’s short hair, pressing his face closer to her chest.

Neither of them even realized that the elevator doors had slid open, too busy to hair the little, automated ‘ding’. What they did hear though was someone loudly clearing their throat. Y/n’s cheeks burned, taking on a rosy hue while Keanu smiled sheepishly, setting her down. “Come on,” he eventually snapped out of it, taking her hand and brushing past the hotel guests waiting to get into the elevator. 

Between giggles, sloppy kisses and teasing gropes, Y/n and Keanu, hand in hand, staggered towards his room, all the way at the end of the hall. When they got there, he clumsily unlocked it with his key card, barely having a moment to turn on the lights before he was crushing his lips to Y/n’s again. Their limbs tangled as they simultaneously tried to undress each other; he went for her blouse first, while Y/n pawed at the buckle of his belt. Eventually, articles of clothing were being tossed aside and by the time Y/n and Keanu stumbled through the open doors leading to the bedroom, they were left only in their underwear. 

Keanu maintained a grip on her curve of Y/n’s waist while she cupped his cheeks, walking backwards to the made queen sized bed. The lights in there were off and in the process of trying to make the way, they bumped into the dresser and even managed to knock over some things. When they were standing on the edge, Keanu hastily picked Y/n up again, only to deposit her length-ways on the bright white sheets. She fell with a quiet yelp, giggling breathily when Keanu yanked her panties off before getting out of his own underwear. 

With the aid of the city lights filtering through the closed curtains, Y/n could make out a few defining features, a well toned torso, a very impressive package and a devilish smirk. Likewise, as Keanu got onto the bed, pulling Y/n’s legs apart and getting situated between them, he could easily make out her breasts and her sensuous curves, along with her hair, fanned out around her, like a silky halo. If he weren’t in so much of a hurry for things to escalate, he might have taken more time to admire her, but what he could see made Keanu’s cock throb appreciatively and instead, he gave her legs a tug, pulling her body closer. 

He lowered his lips to ravish her chest, taking her hardened right nipple in his mouth, his tongue swirling around, his teeth gently grazing her skin when he eventually pulled away to favor the other one. Y/n moaned softly, eagerly pressing Keanu’s face chest. His stocky fingers trailed along her inner thigh, brushing her warm, wet folds, wasting no time before he was rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves, Y/n’s back arched to meet his touch.  Keanu worked her clit encouragingly in slow, circular motions, at times alternating between that and rubbing it with the ‘v’ of his middle and pointer fingers.

“Keanu,” she pleaded breathlessly, “More.” One of Y/n’s delicate hands run up his front, barely grazing the vertical scar on his stomach and up his firm chest before settling to settle on his shoulder, her other one circling his girthy shaft, pumping slowly, her thumb occasionally brushing over his head. 

As her ministrations grew faster, Keanu’s bucked into her touch, his fingers, now sticky with her arousal slipping into her entrance, curving to hit her G-spot, “You’re so fucking tight,” he praised between nipping and sucking her breasts, “Gonna feel good around my cock.”

The feeling of his fingers moving and out of her was good, but Y/n was growing frustrated with the burning desire for more. “Fuck,” she hissed when his thumb added pressure to her nub as Keanu continued, “Keanu,” she groaned, “God, just fuck me already.”

Smirking, he trailed hot, wet kisses kisses up Y/n’s neck, spending a few extra moments sucking on her pulse point before continuing his journey upwards. Keanu’s free hand skimmed Y/n’s side, his calloused touch sending shivers up her spine. “I want you to cum like this first,” his hot breath fanned her ear, and Y/n shuddered with pleasure when his tongue flicked the warm skin behind her earlobe erotically. 

Soon enough, Y/n’s walls were clenching around Keanu’s fingers, her orgasm sending her vision white as she shut her eyes. Waves of pleasure coursed through her body, her legs weak and shaking, eliciting a loud, sinful moan from her parted lips. Her hand enclosed around Keanu’s erection went limp, though he was too enamored to notice, from what he could see, she looked absolutely spectacular like that; with her head tossed the side, hair falling over her face, lips ajar and eyes shut tight. 

Keanu was about to push into her, when he caught himself, hastily reaching to feel around blindly on the nightstand. There should have been one right…….there. Feeling the cool, foil packaging, Keanu gabbed it up, effortlessly ripping the top before pulling out the condom and rolling it onto his shaft. 

Finally, Keanu sheathed himself inside of her drenched cunt, groaning lowly at how Y/n felt cocooning him. “God,” his voice was gravely and his jaw clenched, “You feel so fucking good.” Y/n’s only response was a needy whimper, already longing for more. For another moment, Keanu lingered inside, giving Y/n a much-needed minute to adjust to his size, before striking up a steady controlled pace, exiting fully before driving himself back in. 

Y/n’s arms went around Keanu’s middle as her legs tangled behind his thighs, eventually wordlessly urging him to flip them over. Now on top, her palms traveled up his chest, her nails sinking into the top of his shoulders to steady herself as she rode him. Keanu’s hands ran the length of her torso, eager to fondle her boobs, loving Y/n’s mewls of pleasure as his thumbs brushed her sensitive nipples, the remnants of her first orgasm being smeared on her chest. 

Rolling her hips, Y/n felt Keanu’s balls hit her core each time she came down, and his throbbing veins rough, the feelings adding to her ecstasy. Her broken sentences were already garbled and the makings of her second climax in the works.

The slight curve of his member easily hit her deepest points of pleasure, and eventually, one of Keanu’s hands abandoned her swollen breast, two of his fingers reaching between their joined bodies to eagerly rub her over-stimulated clit, his thumb pressed firmly to her mound. Y/n raked her nails along his chest, eventually settling on his pecs. 

Through his bleary vision, Keanu admired the way Y/n’s messy hair fell over her face, how, when his other hand slid to her waist, her breasts bounced with each movement, her sounds contained in her throat. “I’m close,” she admitted, her pace growing sloppy.

“Me too,” his hips bucked to meet hers, a couple digits still rubbing her clit as the other moved again, that time to knead her ass, “Come on baby,” he encouraged, “Milk my cock.” Keanu’s dirty requests were enough to push Y/n over the edge. Without further warning, Y/n shuddered around him, her pussy squeezing Keanu tighter, her legs mimicking bonelessness. 

Keanu hissed as he cock pulsed, buried deep inside Y/n, twitching as he shot ropes of creamy release against her walls, the only minor hamper being the latex barrier. The feeling was euphoric; he could feel the tingling down to his toes and his vision went stark white for a second, blind spots dancing on his eyes even as it faded. 

Breathing heavily, Y/n winced as she eventually pulled herself off of Keanu, collapsing onto the bed next to him. Their chests heaved and beads of exertion coated their bodies; Keanu had only just realized that the A/c wasn’t even on. Y/n’s eyes were heavy, and out of the corner, to her left, she could see that Keanu was still staring at the darkened ceiling, faint smile still quirking his lips. “It was very nice to meet you, Keanu,” she teased, giggling softly. 

“Likewise,” he chuckled, finally turning his head towards her. Again, the lapsed into silence, but it was only for a short while. “So,” he began, “Do you have to get back to your friend anytime soon?”

Knowing Haley, she’d probably left with one of Keanu’s band mates, or some other guy, intent on spending the night the same way Y/n was spending hers. They probably wouldn’t have seen each other until midday. “No,” she furrowed her brows, intrigued by where that was going. 

Leaning up on his crooked elbow, Keanu brushed stray locks away from Y/n’s neck and face, shrugging nonchalantly, “Good,” he chortled, swinging one leg over her, his lips connecting with hers and his already hardening cock against her thigh giving Y/n enough of an explanation. 

*******

Tagging- @harrisongslimited​

[ladyreapermc]

Fic: About the Bass (Keanu x F!Reader)

Summary: seeing Keanu playing the bass is one of the hottest things you’ve witnessed.

Pairing: Keanu x F!Reader

Author’s notes: do I really need to say how much I love Keanu playing the bass? It’s one of my kinks and this definitely is a product of that. Feedback is very welcome!

Wordcount: 1702

Warnings: mentions of alcohol and age gap.

You moved through the small gathering of people, a margarita in your hand – your third and last of the night – offering smiles and pausing to chat. It was your birthday and everyone seemed to be trying to speak to you, which was certainly lovely. You liked the attention, but you couldn’t help the disappointment burning in your chest.

You hadn’t expected to be thrown a surprise party. You were pretty sure you actively said to your younger sister that you didn’t really want to make a big deal out of it. To you, turning thirty was just like any other year. But apparently, she was incapable of listening, because she planned the entire thing and roped Keanu into not only helping to make sure you were kept in the dark but also into opening his house to a bunch of strangers.

You were going to have some words with her about it because she shouldn’t have asked that of Keanu. The two of you had only been friends for a few months, ever since Company Films hired you to work on a few scripts they were producing. You knew how much he valued his privacy. His house should have been off-limits.

Thankfully, the party was finally winding down. Happy Birthday had been sung, the cake had been cut and guests were finally leaving, saying their goodbyes to you, before slipping out. Looking around the small crowd of people that still lingered, you tried to catch a glimpse of his dark hair, but he didn’t seem to be around.

You excused yourself from one of your friends and wandered around the unfamiliar hallways until you found him in the music room, eyes closed, headphones on as he played a silent tune on his bass. You leaned against the frame to watch him, the way his long fingers moved over the strings so expertly; the little from of concentration and how he bobbed his head to the tune only he could hear. You had to smile because he looked both adorable and unbelievably attractive like that.

You realized you had a major crush on Keanu probably after the second week of working with him, doctoring the script for the next movie he would be directing. He was funny and sweet and so brilliant. It was next to impossible not to be smitten by him.

You convinced yourself it was stupid and hopeless because he was technically your boss and so much older than you. Not that you really cared about that, but you knew the press would buzz about it and besides, there was no way he would be interested, right?

Or so you thought until you started noticing all the little things. The glances whenever Keanu thought you weren’t looking; the way he smiled at you, soft and gentle, his entire facing lighting up and creases marking around his eyes. The little gestures whenever you were working together; like bringing you coffee when you didn’t even realize you needed or always ordering your favorite takeouts, even if he didn’t particularly care for it…

Part of you still wondered if you weren’t reading too much in this. You knew he was one of the sweetest, nicest guys in Hollywood. Maybe he was just being the perfect gentleman. But those things still planted the seed of hope in your chest. As a matter of fact, when he invited you for dinner and a movie to celebrate your birthday tonight you were planning on talking to him, checking where you both stood, but the surprise party really crashed your plans.

“Hey. How long have you been standing there?”

Keanu’s voice startled you back from your musings and your gaze focused on him again, noticing he had stopped playing and stood there with his headphones around his neck, a flush on his cheeks and a sheepish smile on his lips.

“Not long,” you replied with a smile of your own and stepped into the room. “I just wanted to let you know that people are starting to leave. You should have your house back in an hour or so. By the way, you really shouldn’t have let my sister get you into this.”

“It’s fine,” he shrugged, that soft smile adorning his lips and your heart fluttered. “Sorry I disappeared, it’s just…”

“Too much people start getting on your nerves?” you asked and Keanu chuckled, nodding. “Yeah, me too. Anyway, whatever you were playing, it looked good.”

“Well it sounded terrible,” he said with a small grimace, ducking his head self-consciously. “I’m rusty. It’s been a while since I played.”

“You miss it? Dogstar and Becky?” You leaned against the arms of one of the armchairs.  

“Sometimes,” he shrugged, starting to pull off the strap of the bass.

“Wait. Play me something,” you requested and Keanu snorted, shaking his head.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said I’m rusty.”

“Oh, come on! It’s my birthday.” You pouted at him, knowing very well he never resisted long. “Pretty, pretty please?”

“How about I teach you instead?” he offered and you nodded.

“But I have to warn you, I’m tone-deaf,” you commented as he removed the headphones and connected the bass to a speaker.

You moved to stand in front of him when he beckoned you. Keanu settled the strap of the bass on your shoulder before he adjusted the length so the red body of the bass hung at your hips.

“How’s that? Should I shorten it a little more?” he asked moving behind you and settling his hands over yours.

There were so many thoughts running through your head at once but at the same time, you seemed completely unable to focus on any of them. Your entire body was intuned to Keanu’s and as he came closer, you were engulfed by the flow of sensations.

“It’s… uh… fine,” you stuttered.

“Good thing you’re a leftie too. Gonna make this easier.”

His left hand guided yours to the neck of the bass, adjusting your fingers at the right position, pressing them against the strings. You could feel the old callouses on the pad of his fingers, speaking of a lifetime of working with his hands, be it by playing instruments, working out or handling fake guns, it all left its toll on his hands.

The sensation was foreign but not unwelcome, just like you welcomed the warmth of his palm and how large it was, something you had always noticed, but seeing it covering yours like this was making your throat dry and sending very bad thoughts flying through your brain.

Of course, you knew Keanu was a big man. It was impossible not to notice. He was tall, with broad shoulders, strong chest and long limbs. You felt tiny in comparison and more than once you wondered how it would feel to be surrounded by his warm embrace like you were having a chance to experience just now.

“This is an A,” Keanu said, strumming the strings with his pick.

His words ghosted against your cheek and you caught a whiff the alcohol in his breath and it was strangely addictive. You could feel the warmth of his body and smell his cologne. It was wooden and spicy, with an underlying musk that you knew it must be Keanu’s unique scent and it was making your head spin.

You didn’t know if this was the best or worst idea the two of you ever had because it almost felt like sweet torture to be this close. He moved your fingers against the strings, showing you another chord, but all you could focus was at the feel of his hard chest against your back; his strong arms around you; those long, nimble fingers over yours.

“Am I boring you?” Keanu asked, his baritone against your ear sending shivers down your spine and there was no way he didn’t feel that. “Maybe we should stop.”

“No,” you breathed out, tilting your head up to look at him, catching on his darkened eyes and the way he licked his lips as he stared down at you. You felt heat rushing through you, arousal and alcohol making you dizzy.

There was no denying now; no pretending that it was just your imagination. Not when Keanu was looking at you like he wanted to devour you whole and all you could think was having his mouth on you.

“This is a bad idea…” he whispered but guiding you with his hands to turn around and face him.

“Probably,” you sighed, letting go of the bass to rest your hands against his chest, looking into his eyes. “But sometimes the best things come from the worst ideas.”

The air felt thick with tension, the silence heavy with so many unspoken things as Keanu just stared at you and you wondered what his next step would be. It felt like it was happening in slow motion, the way he leaned closer, his hand coming to cradle your nape, tilting your face up at just the right way so you could properly welcome his mouth on yours. His lips slightly chapped against your soft ones, fitting almost perfectly; his beard tickling your nose.

You let your lips part under his, welcoming his tongue, tasting the beer he had all night, mixed with the sweetness of the chocolate cake. It was delicious and you tried to press closer, chasing his taste, but before either of you could go any further, someone cleared their throat, making both of you jump startled and breaking the mood.

“Sorry to interrupt,” your sister said with an arched eyebrow and a smirk and you couldn’t help but glare. “A couple of people want to say goodbye.”

“Yeah,” you said, voice raspy like you have been in the desert for too long.

You untangled yourself from the bass strap and Keanu, stifling the pitiful sound threatening to spill from your throat at the sudden loss. Your eyes met him when you were backing away, and you could see all the want and need you felt yourself.

‘Later,’ You mouthed at him and Keanu smiled, giving you a quick nod, before turning his back to you so he could put his bass away.

xxx

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[allie1804-fan]

The Fall (Chapter 1)

Warnings: None

St Thomas Hospital London

Feb 11th 2017

A dull but insistent drum sound seemed to be beating in the distance over and over again. Where was it coming from and why wouldn’t it stop? Abby opened her eyes tentatively, blinking at the bright light steaming in through the window next to her bed.

Her  eyes ’s flew open . There wasn’t a window to the left of her bed!

And that’s when she remembered where she was and why.

Yesterday she’d been queuing in Leicester Square with a ticket to attend the Premiere of John Wick 2.  She’d felt kind of daring being there and also completely stupid at the same time. She was 48 for god’s sake and surely beyond the days of following your favourite movie star to premieres and book signings – and yet, why shouldn’t she have some youthful fun. Her kids were teenagers now so it was no skin off her husband’s nose for her to go off with a girlfriend for a long weekend away and why not build in the chance to see her idol of over 20 years in the flesh again. She’d managed to see him a couple of times before  this - with Dogstar in the 90s and at a book signing in 2011, but in February 2017 Keanu’s star was riding high and so she and her friend Alison had made a the trip to comprise the Graham Norton Show on the Thursday and the John Wick 2 Premiere on the Friday. There was a large excitable crowd at the premiere and, as it turned out, she was alone as her friend Alison had had to cry off and return home that morning as her son  was sick. Maybe that was Abby’s downfall and why she’d been more vulnerable in the crowd.

She’d managed a glimpse of Keanu as he’d come up the line but she wasn’t able to get to the front  and pass him her picture of him for signing. So enthralled was she at just watching him interact with the fans at the front, especially the few kids that had been brought along,  that she didn’t notice the swell of the crowd behind her. Keanu had crouched down for a picture with one of the kids and as he rose back up she glimpsed his expression changing, his eyes fixed on something behind her. And then her feet were knocked from under her and her head hit the icy cold pavement.

This whole scene was  going through her mind yet again when the nurse came to check her vitals the following morning.

“Morning sleeping beauty, how are you feeling?”

“Sore” Abby replied smiling slightly “and I can’t really remember getting here. Last thing I can remember is the pavement!”

“Well, your husband is coming down this afternoon and hopefully we can discharge you then. It’s Saturday now and you came in at around 8.30 yesterday evening after a fall in a crowd, do you remember where you were?”

“Yes, I do” Abby replied blushing, wondering if the nurse would think her really juvenile for going to a premiere.

“Did you get to see him?”

“Who, Keanu?”

The nurse nodded excitedly and Abby breathed a sigh of relief that it didn’t seem like she was being judged.

“Yes from a distance – I think me looking at him stopped me noticing the crowd surge. I think he saw it coming though. That’s the last thing I remember – his worried expression looking behind me and then wham!”

 February 11th Claridges London

The phrase from the Matrix, “Like a Splinter in your Mind” was going through Keanu’s brain as he lay in bed the morning after the premiere.  He kept trying to picture the woman who’d fallen the night before and to place her but it just wouldn’t come. Immediately after it happened, security had stepped in to both attend to the woman and protect him, rushing him into the auditorium for press and despite him repeatedly asking if everyone was alright he never really got any detail from anyone. He leaned over to grab his phone off the nightstand and rang Cheryl. She had stayed outside at Keanu’s insistence to see that the emergency services came and what the outcome was. She was a bit irritated as she would normally hover near each journalist seeking to talk to Keanu to make sure no-one strayed into unwanted territory but she could see he’d be even more likely to bail completely if he was worrying that no one was ensuring that the woman who fell was taken care of.

“Did you find out anything, about the woman last night”

“well they told me which ER they were taking her to but I don’t know if that’s where she’ll still be.  She might have been discharged for all we know.”

“Damn it!, I know I recognise her but it just won’t come. Did you get a name?

“No she was still concussed  - can you give me any clues?”

“I just feel like I’ve met her or heard her speak or …. Something”

It was in the shower later on that it came to him! She’d been at the chat show! He hadn’t actually seen her there in person but the show runners had done some interviews with fans in the afternoon who were queuing to get in and hers was one they’d selected to show him as they thought it was cute.

The question they had asked fans of those on the show was “What would you say if you met xxx and she was there for him rather than Denzel or Amelia Fox.

“Well, let’s be honest” she’d laughed, looking at her the friend beside her “I know I’m a grown woman, but I‘d most likely be dumbstruck and tongue tied……… but if I could actually gather my thoughts it would be to say lots of thank yous.

“What would you thank Keanu for?”

“Well 1stly obviously a thank you for all the entertainment -  the laughter, the tears and the thrills from his films. And then thank you for the friendships, like this one (she gestured between herself and her friend)  that have sprung from being a fan. Some online and some that were made in real life or went like this one from being online to real life and many of them have lasted over 20 or so years. And  thanks for being someone I can admire as a person too (the hard work, the humility, living up to the “being excellent to each other” mantra is pretty inspirational to me and is a massive part of why I am still a fan. And finally, maybe most importantly, thank you for the solace that having this little outlet, this escape of being a fan has given me so often when real life has been too painful. You know, having a film to watch and share thoughts about or a new interview to see, a Dogstar gig to go to or a report from a film set from an extra. Or even if I’m brutally honest, having  a cute new picture to fan girl over has been a comfort to me when times were tough. So thank you for all that Keanu. That is what I would want to say but probably I’d just be a like a mute goldfish!”

He had been speechless after watching that. He knew his fans liked him - how could he not when people got excited in the street or at an event to meet him and shake his hand but to have it put so beautifully and to hear the word “solace” from someone of around his age who  he guessed had been battered somewhat by life’s travails like him  - that was really something else and it had stayed with him. He was glad he’d now connected the two images – the falling woman and the fan. He called Cheryl back with this nugget and asked her to contact the show team to see if they had kept any details. He was determined to send her flowers, maybe try to see her, especially as she had ended up in hospital, however briefly.

@fortheloveoffanfic @kindainlovewithk’eanu @omg-imagine @iworshipkeanureeves @fics-not-tragedies @ficsnroses @keanureevesisbae @penwieldingdreamer @witty-wallflower @paperplanesandwallflowers @bitchyslut99 @ladyreapermc @toomanystoriessolittletime @fanficsrusz @keanuficfiles @bitchyslut99 

[taltos-seidmadr]

It occurred to me that I never shared the Loki playlist that I made for my Month for Loki back then when I was writing it. It’s the Month for Loki again, and it has stayed technically unchanged since it’s inception two years ago... so I might as well!

This is a part of a series of playlists that are based on the myths, so this is the myth-Loki and not based on my personal experiences or whatever (that playlist is elsewhere lol). Except for the last song. There is always a +1 at the end that is personal.

Overall I just wanted this to be a fun, contrarian and playfully rebellious playlist with a hint of edginess... because that’s exactly what I think Loki is like in the myths: a fun, playfully rebellious contrarian, with a little bit of an edgy addition when the plot wouldn’t be able to move on otherwise.

I feel like this reveals more about my age and taste in music than I expected but I’m not ashamed of it in the slightest

And yeah, you’ve got your fires and air and birds and threads and volcanic activity and everything. Sure. (I have forgotten the snakes oops? Suggest me a song with snake imagery in the comments.)

The tracklist as of today is thusly (with some lyric snippets as teasers)

GOT ENOUGH RED TAPE TO CHOKE A HORSE / I DON’T KNOW WHY I’M DOING IT / THIS IS MY SERMON, THIS IS MY SERMON, THIS IS MY SERMON 0. Sermon - Ed Schrader’s Music Beat

It’s time to shine / And make all your dreams come true / Come on... wish upon a dog star 1. Dogstar - Hybrid

Are you still denying? / Now I know there is something more / That this is the truth / It’s all in you 2. Path, Vol. 2 - Apocalyptica feat. Sandra Nasic

Come play my game, I’ll test ya / Psychosomatic, addict, insane 3. Breathe - The Prodigy

Now renegades are the people with their own philosophies / They change the course of history / Everyday people like you and me 4. Renegades of Funk - Rage Against the Machine

Get on board and have some fun / Take what you need to turn you on 5. Androgyny - Garbage

I want to hang all your cattle with your velvet rope / Motherfuckers step up and get into an orderly line 6. Better of Two Evils - Marilyn Manson

I can't control myself, because I don't know how / And they love me for it, honestly, I'll be here for a while 7. Blood - My Chemical Romance

I been that bitch, yes I love that drama / Fishy, feminine up-and-comer 8. Call Me Mother - RuPaul

I am the vulture in the space / I’m running in my supersonic shoes / I’m the vulture in the haze / There’s nothing foreseen, no rules 9. Supersonic Shoes - Strong Deformity

Are you deranged like me? Are you strange like me? / Lighting matches just to swallow up the flame like me? / Do you call yourself a fucking hurricane like me? / Pointing fingers cause you'll never take the blame like me? 10. Gasoline - Halsey

You could light me on fire / and you could kill me in my sleep / You could call me a liar / And you could bury me deep... 11. Light Me On Fire (High Maintenance Remix) - Dub FX

I need your discipline / I need your help / You know once I start I can not help myself 12. Discipline - Nine Inch Nails

Done my time and served my sentence / Dress me up and watch me die / If it feels good, tastes good, it must be mine 13. Emperor’s New Clothes - Panic! At the Disco

for shame’s sake by any other name / when the seeds take / it grows like weeds and spreads like flames 14. The Fuel - Sneaker Pimps

There is nothing you can do that I have not already done to myself 15. Never Wanted To Dance - Mindless Self Indulgence

I was close to the ant / Staying undercover, staying undercover / With a nose to the ground, I found my sound 16. BORN FREE - M. I. A.

And the longest hours I've had in my life / Were the ones I went through to know I was right / So I'm safe... but I'm a little outside / I'm gonna laugh when I'm buried alive 17. Sulfur - Slipknot

You say you wanna be my leader / I think you wanna be my God / You say you on the side of the righteous / I say I'm gonna hang with the wrong 18. Angel Duster - Run the Jewels

Made tissue paper sails / used thread instead of nails / Your autograph was carved across your back / We thought that you were done / but then you grabbed your gun / You pushed and fought and ran full speed ahead 19. How To Look Naked - Black Light Burns

Clothes on the floor, but the bed's on the ceiling / Slurring my lines, but I'm nailing the meaning 20. Silvertongue - Young the Giant

I belong here with the fallen / Here is nowhere, here is everything / I belong here with the broken / We are lost and we have nothing to lose 21. Pray for the Pain You Serve - Gary Numan

I'm the player, I'm the naive / I'm the one who's not addicted / I'm the logic to the fuck up / I'm the broken one who fixed it 22. Seen It All - KoRn

Cause I'll darn you back together / when you think that you're bereft / And you'll wail, you'll scream, but I'll never stop / cause it's all that I have left +1. The Rockrose and the Thistle - The Amazing Devil

[keanuquotes]

What do a grocery store, a diner, and The Matrix Resurrections have in common? We can thank all of them for Dogstar's origin story and comeback.

Keanu Reeves, Robert Mailhouse, and Bret Domrose's rock band formed in 1991 after a chance encounter in Southern California's supermarket Gelson's, when Reeves saw Mailhouse wearing a Detroit Red Wings top and struck up a conversation with him. The two bonded over their shared love of hockey and became fast friends.

"It turned out that we lived in the same neighborhood," Reeves tells EW, "and then we started to jam together, and then we started to write songs, and then we played the first shows as Dogstar not that long after."

Doghouse members Robert Mailhouse, Bret Domrose, and Keanu Reeves

| CREDIT: BRIAN BOWEN SMITH

In their early days, bassist Reeves, drummer Mailhouse, and original singer and guitarist Gregg Miller (who left the group in 1995) would play in Reeves' garage. "It was fun," Reeves recalls. Until Miller's amplifier broke.

So he reached out to Domrose for help. "I was bartending with [Miller] when I first moved to Los Angeles, and I happened to have a similar amplifier to his," Domrose says. "So I went over to the house to help him fix it, and that's where I met these two guys. I just thought I was going to help some guy fix a piece of equipment. I didn't know I was about to change the rest of my life."

Reeves and Mailhouse were instantly impressed by Domrose's guitar skills — "Bret's a shredder, man," Reeves says — so a few days after watching him play, they invited him to join them at the iconic Los Angeles venue Troubadour. "I just wanted to go and drink beers and watch you guys," Domrose recalls. "I didn't realize I was going to be on stage."

"That set the tone for us from then on," Reeves says, rubbing his hands together. "Jump into the deep end. Man, that's us. We are not afraid."

Much like with that first serendipitous meeting in a Gelson's, food, at least in a roundabout way, helped lead them to a musical collaboration — this time, their return, which includes a tour and their upcoming third album, Somewhere Between the Power Lines and Palm Trees.

"There was a premiere for Matrix 4 in San Francisco, and the next morning we had breakfast," Reeves says. "That was the initial spark." While the band never officially went on hiatus, they hadn't recorded or released new music in more than two decades, playing together only every few years in basements or at smaller gigs nowhere near the size of their old concert venues. But what started as a post-Matrix Resurrections chat about equipment turned into a full-fledged plan for them to reunite in L.A. to start working on fresh material.

"We got excited, one thing leads to another, and then we all took it extremely seriously," Mailhouse says. "It wasn't going to be another one of those casual get-togethers. You could just tell. It was like we were on a mission."

Somewhere Between the Power Lines and Palm Trees is full of anthemic, sweeping, beautiful, and rousing songs that embody what the band is today. "The inspiration was three guys wanting to have fun and reconnect and be honest with our emotions, and so that's what you get," Domrose says.

If the music is different from their earlier, post-grunge records, it's all by design. "There's a maturity," Reeves says of their sound today. "The most challenging day [recording this album] was when I played 'Dillon Street'" — a track on the new album — "really basic when we were writing the song. When we get into the studio with the guys, I'm just playing it very simple and holding it down, and they were like, 'I think you need to do something more.' I tried to come up with the bass line in the moment, and it moves around a little more than I usually do, and so it was pushing me."

Reeves continues, "It was scary making stuff up in the moment with all ears and eyes on me, but everyone was cheering me on — just like, 'Dude, you got it. Let's go, Reeves.' So it was challenging, but also a fun moment."

The trio have never felt prouder of an album, and they can't wait to finally release it to the world. "We should have the record release party at a Gelson's, the one in Beachwood Canyon [where we met]," Mailhouse jokes to Reeves.

Adds Domrose with a laugh, "They do have a bar now!"

Somewhere Between the Power Lines and Palm Trees is out Oct. 6.

[angelofberlin2000]

by Natalie Finn | Fri., May. 17, 2019 3:00 AM

When Keanu Reeves was asked the other night, "What do you think happens when we die?" interviewer Stephen Colbert probably wasn't expecting such a deep—or assured—answer from the movie star.

"I know that the ones that love us will miss us," the 54-year-old actor said sagely, rendering the Late Show host unusually speechless.

It was a sincere, thoughtful response—vintage Reeves, really—from someone who's had reason to think about such things.

"I haven't really thought about my career future, or what was going to happen, until really recently," he also told GQ in February. Asked why he started thinking about it, he replied, "Death!"

Watch https://www.eonline.com/videos/289305/how-keanu-reeves-training-for-john-wick-3-compares-to-the-matrix

How Keanu Reeves' Training for John Wick 3 Compares to The Matrix

The still eerily youthful-looking Reeves, who's back in theaters Friday in the third installment of the blockbuster John Wick franchise, has become a brand unto himself, the name "Keanu" signifying not just movie stardom but also a certain kind of performance and even a state of mind: chill, zen, blissfully checked out ("Sad Keanu" meme notwithstanding). His name—which has lent itself to a comedy about a cat and a recent hit song by Logic, and which of course a studio exec wanted him to change when he first came to Hollywood—does mean "cool breeze over the mountains" in Hawaiian, after all.

But still waters run deep, and despite being in the public eye for more than 30 years, he's one of the least-known people whose chiseled face you would recognize anywhere. Few play it as close to the vest as Reeves, who, though he does the occasional interview and shows up to fulfill his side of the bargain in promoting his films, does not talk about his personal life. And not in the way that most celebrities don't really talk about their personal lives.

As in, it's entirely unclear if he even has one, although—look at him—he must.

"I came to Hollywood to be in movies," Reeves told Parade recently. "I feel really grateful that I've had that opportunity, but I'm just a private person, and it's nice that can still exist."

He doesn't even publicize his charity work, but his causes include children's hospitals, fighting cancer, the arts and the environment. 

"I always find it surreal that complete strangers come up and ask me personal questions," he told Parade back in 2008. "I don't mind speaking about work, but when the talk turns to 'Who are you?' and 'What do you do off-screen?' I'm like, 'Get out of here.' I've been in situations where people have felt they had a relationship with me or something and I didn't even know who they were."

Not that Reeves is an anti-star. He lives in the hills above West Hollywood, spent plenty of time enjoying the local nightlife in his youth and has starred in countless quotable action movies—and gets paid handsomely for them, enough so that he can take off and do passion projects like his first (and only, to date) directorial effort, 2013's The Man of Tai Chi, or show up unheralded on a Swedish sitcom (Swedish Dicks, now on Pop) or in any indie film he so desires, like the recent Destination Wedding, an acerbic comedy that reteamed him with Bram Stoker's Dracula co-star Winona Ryder.

He's perfectly congenial yet usually looks somewhat serious, but not because he's taking himself seriously—more as if he wants to answer even the most lighthearted of questions with respectful gravity. But hey, as Stephen Colbert just found out, if you ask Reeves a potentially loaded question, prepare to get an answer.

Asked by Parade in 2008 if he believed in aliens, because he was playing the alien Klaatu in a remake of The Day the Earth Stood Still, he replied, "Some days I do. Some days I don't. There's so much unexplained and unexplainable phenomena that's presented to us. But beyond that, the cosmos is so vast. We can't be the only sentient entity. It might not look like us, but it's going to be out there."

His signature Keanu cadence used to be mistaken for a sign of vacuity, but Reeves attributed however he came off in interviews to his overall discomfort with talking about himself.

"I've never played stupid to keep someone distant," he told Vanity Fair in 1995. "I don't play stupid. Either it's been a failure on my part to articulate, or my naivete, or ingenuousness, or sometimes it's the nature of the form... And you know, I find myself more able to give an explanation of a project five years later than in the middle of it. It's so present-tense! I can tell you how I feel, but its context is harder to explain... Sometimes when I'm interviewed I'm not ready to do that. So you say...'excellent!' And you know what, man? It's OK."

It certainly was.

Ted Theodore Logan, Johnny Utah, Jack Travern, Neo, John Wick: all characters that had to be played by Reeves. He's done everything from Shakespeare to sports flicks to A Scanner Darkly, and soon you'll be hearing his voice as Duke Caboom, a motorcycle-riding stuntman with a wistful backstory, in Toy Story 4, which will probably sneak in to top The Matrix Reloaded, which made $742 million worldwide, as his single highest-grossing movie.

"So I made Duke a little more gravelly but still tried to give him energy and a big personality," Reeves shared with Entertainment Weekly in March. "I just thought that Duke should love what he does. He's the greatest stuntman in Canada! I wanted him to be constantly doing poses on the bike while he was talking, to have this great extroverted passion."

He turned down Speed 2 to play Hamlet onstage in Canada. He was one of the first big stars who memorably jammed on the side with his own band, Dogstar, in the '90s and now he co-owns a custom bike shop called ARCH Motorcycle in Hawthorne, Calif, because he loves motorcycles as much as you think he does.

"Riding can be a place to think and feel. It's a way to work things out," he recently told Parade, noting that inclement weather doesn't stop him. "I like riding in the rain. It's a little more sketchy." He rides mainly alone, but he and the ARCH crew cruise Pacific Coast Highway on Sunday mornings.

And if motorcycles provide one soul-soothing salve for Reeves, acting provides another.

"In acting, you're constantly discovering new feelings and thoughts and exposing yourself to them," he told Parade in 2008. "I guess it could be considered psycho-therapy. All I know is that, as an actor, I can tell you a story that you'll listen to. Maybe it won't just entertain you, it might also teach you something. I think film has the power to change your life if you want to let it.

Combine his real-life inscrutability with his is-it-genius-or-does-he-just-do-the-same-thing-every-time approach to acting, and he's become more myth than man—and that, too, is a huge part of his appeal. He's just so Keanu.

"I don't own a computer and I don't e-mail," he said in the 2008 

Parade

interview. "I'm fascinated by people who freak out when they don't get an instant response to an e-mail. It's like they expect as soon as they send an email to get the answer back and if they don't it's like awful. I just hope people won't totally lose the ability to write letters because it's a good way to communicate."

He preferred typewriters, Reeves said—and we can only hope he and Toy Story star Tom Hanks had a chance to talk about typewriters together.

"I only have good things to say about him," Swedish Dicks star Peter Stormare, who met Reeves doing Constantine in 2005, which led to the actor's role on his show, told GQ. "Once a year, we'll have a beer together and talk about life and things. He's very private. He leads his life the way he wants to lead it. And I guess it can be lonely sometimes. But I think he's just like me. There's a comfort in being alone sometimes, especially when you're working on something."

"We bonded over motorcycles, bass guitar, and Harold Pinter," Alex Winter, the Bill to his Ted, also told the magazine. "Reeves had a really good book collection."

Reeves was born in Beirut, to a Hawaiian father and English mother, but they divorced when he was about 2. Mom Patricia remarried in the US., but after that didn't work out she settled with a 7-year-old Keanu and his younger sister, Kim, who was born in Australia, in Toronto. Reeves reportedly hasn't spoken to his dad since he was 13. 

"We were latchkey kids," he told Esquire in 2017. "It was basically 'leave the house in the morning and come back at night'. It was cool." But, he told Parade, "Even for a runaway English girl, my mother gave us a proper upbringing. We learned manners, respect for our elders, formal table settings. I also learned a nonprejudicial, nonjudgmental acceptance of other people."

His favorite part of school was doing plays and studying Shakespeare in English class, so he dropped out at 17 to try his hand at acting.

"My attendance record was very bad. I was lazy," Reeves told Vanity Fair. "I knew I wanted to act when I was halfway through grade 11, I guess, and school wasn't important."

His first acting job came on the Canadian series Hangin' In in 1984. Then he moved to Los Angeles and made his big-screen debut in the Rob Lowe-starring drama Youngblood in 1986. Later that year he won his first major role in the gritty teen crime drama River's Edge, which went on to win Best Feature at the Independent Spirit Awards.

So it was off to the races for Reeves, who in the next five years made a wildly diverse array of movies, including the very-'80s comedy The Night Before, Dangerous Liaisons, Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure (and its sequel, Bogus Journey), Parenthood, Point Break and My Own Private Idaho.

He was very much living the fast Hollywood life, and it wasn't all charmed.

In 1993, River Phoenix died of an accidental drug overdose—another painful thing Reeves didn't want to talk about, but he spoke fondly of his friend and My Own Private Idaho co-star.

"I enjoyed his company. Very much," Reeves told Rolling Stone in 2000. "And enjoyed his mind and his spirit and his soul. We brought good out in each other. He was a real original thinker. He was not the status quo. In anything."

As for Phoenix's death, "It's something he thinks about all the time, something he never really talks about," a friend told People. "Friends know not to go there with him."

In 1994 his estranged father, Samuel, was sentenced to 10 years in prison for drug possession in Hawaii, but was released in two. "Jesus, man. No, the story with me and my dad's pretty heavy. It's full of pain and woe and fucking loss and all that s--t," he told RS around that time. In 1995, he told Vanity Fair, when asked why he didn't want to know more about his dad's case, "Why would I want to find out what I didn't know?" He called the situation "pretty incredible," and that was that.

Reeves has a massive scar on his abdomen from when he suffered a rupture spleen in a motorcycle crash while riding in L.A.'s Topanga Canyon in 1988. He went into a hairpin turn going about 50 mph.

"I call that a demon ride," he reflected to Rolling Stone. "That's when things are going badly. But there's other times when you go fast, or too fast, out of exhilaration...I remember saying in my head, 'I'm going to die.'"

"I remember calling out for help," he continued. "And someone answering out of the darkness, and then the flashing lights of an ambulance coming down. This was after a truck ran over my helmet. I took it off because I couldn't breathe, and a truck came down. I got out of the way, and it ran over my helmet."

Also while his star was on the rise, his sister Kim battled cancer for years starting in the late '80s. "He helped me through," she told Vanity Fair about her brother. "When the pain got bad, he used to hold my hand and keep the bad man from making me dance. He was there all the time, even when he was away."

Actor and Dogstar bandmate Roger Mailhouse told Rolling Stone about Reeves in 2000, "He's a really giving person. He'd give you his last shoe. Really smart, too. He's incredibly booksmart. He's a really interesting person who doesn't talk a lot of s--t."

Asked how his friend had changed over the past decade, i.e. the '90s, Mailhouse said, "I don't worry about him as much. I used to worry about him. Because I think of him as one of my best friends in the world, was he going to crash his motorcycle, or this or that. We did some wild things. I guess it's just growing up. I don't know—maybe it had something to do with River Phoenix, maybe. Losing someone close to him. But now I'm just proud of him. He's getting to do it the right way."

For years you'd be much more likely to see Kim or Patricia on Reeves' arm at a premiere or other big event—such as when he got a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame in 2005—than any girlfriend, and the actor hasn't been publicly involved with anyone for years.

Not that he hasn't been linked to a bevy of his co-stars, including Sandra Bullock and Charlize Theron, but if he's in a serious relationship, it's not with a celebrity.

On The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon in 2013 he was wearing what anyone would take for a wedding band on his left ring finger, but no revelations ever sprang from that accessory choice.

When Parade asked recently if he remained a bachelor, Reeves replied (squirming a bit, according to the magazine), "Well, I'm not married."

Through the interviews he's given over the years, a theme running through them is the visible discomfort he starts to evince when the conversation veers toward the too-personal. And some topics are just off-limits altogether.

Reeves started dating actress Jennifer Syme after meeting her at a party in 1998 and they were expecting a baby together—but the child, a girl they named Ava, was stillborn at 8 months. They laid her to rest in January 2000, according to People, and broke up weeks later.

Read

Sandra Bullock Almost Starred in The Matrix Instead of Keanu Reeves

They remained close up until Syme, who suffered from severe postpartum depression, died in 2001 when she crashed her Jeep Cherokee into several parked cars on a L.A. street and was thrown from the vehicle. In 2002, her mother, Maria St. John, sued Marilyn Manson, who had thrown a party that Syme attended that night, for wrongful death, alleging he had given Syme  the cocaine that an autopsy found in her system. 

"After Jennifer was sent home safely with a designated driver, she later got behind the wheel of her own car for reasons known only to her," Manson, who knew Syme through filmmaker David Lynch and had worked with her on Lost Highway, said in a statement.

The rocker continued, "This lawsuit, which is completely without merit, will not bring back Jennifer's life. It serves only to reopen the wounds and the pain felt by all who loved Jennifer. It is a pity that St. John sullies her own daughter's reputation by filing this baseless claim."

They reportedly reached a settlement out of court, but Manson maintained he had nothing to do with Syme taking drugs that night. 

Reeves has never spoken publicly about his relationship with Syme, which certainly fits right into how he was before, let alone since. But he grieved. And he eventually had something to say about that.

"I think, after loss, life requires an act of reclaiming," he told Parade in 2006. "You have to reject being overwhelmed. Life has to go on."

The actor continued, "Grief changes shape, but it never ends. People have a misconception that you can deal with it and say, 'It's gone, and I'm better.' They're wrong. When the people you love are gone, you're alone. I miss being a part of their lives and them being part of mine. I wonder what the present would be like if they were here—what we might have done together. I miss all the great things that will never be."

So he knew exactly what he was talking about when he told Colbert, "I know that the ones that love us will miss us."

Calling it "unfair" and "absurd," Reeves told

Parade

, "All you can do is hope that grief will be transformed and, instead of feeling pain and confusion, you will be together again in memory, that there will be solace and pleasure there, not just loss."

"Much of my appreciation of life has come through loss," he concluded. "Life is precious. It's worthwhile."

He said at the time that he would like to have a family, and reiterated the sentiment a couple years later, but Reeves told Esquire in 2017 with regards to "settling down": "I'm too… it's too late. It's over." Asked to clarify, he added, "I'm 52. I'm not going to have any kids."

Famous last words from a litany of 50-something men, and he was reminded of that. Reeves just said, "That's a whole other… But no. I'm glad to still be here."

"I'm every cliché," he continued. "F--king mortality. Ageing. I'm just starting to get better at it. Just the amount of stuff you have to do before you're dead. I'm all of the clichés, and it's embarrassing. It's all of them. It's just, 'Oh my God. OK. Where did the time go? How come things are changing? How much time do I have left? What didn't I do?' I'm trying to think of the line from the sonnet… 'And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er / The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan / Which I new pay as if not paid before.'"

"So, yeah," he added, reportedly with a smile. "I'm that guy."

In turn, Reeves can't help but come off as the solitary figure he so often plays in his films, from Constantine to The Matrix to John Wick. Heck, even Duke Caboom sounds a little melancholy.

At the same time, you're just as likely to see him in a romantic tear-jerker or a quirky comedy as a shoot-em-up. He's played heroes and hustlers, sweethearts and cruel villains, teachers and  slackers, doctors and lawyers.

"For me, it's just continuing to be able to work with great artists and tell stories that people enjoy," Reeves told Parade. "I was always hoping, even when I was young, that I could do different things," he says. "I'm really grateful for that. I'm

Though he had no idea John Wick would be such a hit, Reeves was in top form in the 2014 action extravaganza as a retired hit man who goes on a revenge spree after gangsters kill the beloved dog that was a gift from his late wife.

It made almost $89 million on a reported $20 million budget. Sequel time!

"You hope and you dream but the reality is even sweeter," he told E! News in 2017 about the first film's surprise success when he was promoting John Wick: Chapter 2. "It's great to be involved in a project that has so much affection."

Chapter 2 made $172 million worldwide.

Now back for John Wick: Chapter 3—Parabellum, Reeves has revealed that he started training heavily about three months before filming began to get back into dynamo shape, and he still goes whole-hog (or horse, in this movie's case) in the action sequences, right up until a car runs into him.

"I'll do some fight scenes and then John Wick will get hit by a car," Reeves explained to Colbert on The Late Show, "and that's Jackson Spidell, who's an amazing stuntman." Spidell has been Reeves' stunt double in all the John Wick movies. "He gets hit by the car, then I'll get up from the car, then I'll do a whole bunch more of, like, gun-fu and whatever, jujitsu, judo—and then, if I get thrown off something, Jackson does his thing."

Even more exciting for some fans, however, depending on whether you like your Keanu dark or more dude-like, is the news that he and Alex Winter are finally set to start shooting Bill & Ted Face the Music, the much-discussed follow-up to 1989's Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure and sequel Bill & Ted's Bogus Journey, which came out in 1991. The years-in-the-making comedy is tentatively due out in 2020.

And so on his latest press tour, Keanu Reeves left his usual trail of breadcrumbs. They may not lead you straight to his door, but they'll definitely keep you on the path.

[twdmusicboxmystery]

5x09: Analysis

How did everyone like last night's episode of FTWD? I really enjoyed watching. As expected, it was very much a set up for the B half of the season, but I also found some really great symbols and some very promising possibilities. Let's dive right in.

***As always, spoilers abound for this episode below. Don’t read until you’ve watched! You’ve been warned!***

Also, let me say that, yes, I did watch the TWD S10 Preview show and yes, I will do an analysis of it. Look for it tomorrow. I wanted to get my analysis for this episode up today first. ;D

This episode was a slightly different format than we’re used to. They did in the style of a found-footage documentary. This has become a popular style for films in recent years, and I suppose it was a natural thing to do given how Al records everything.

We start out with all the main characters in the group being interviewed on camera. I won’t go over everything they said, as not all of it jumped out at me as super important. But one thing did. Alicia said it felt like, "everything else was training for this." She meant driving around helping people and rounding up survivors to put together a community. But it also feels like a foreshadow of something big coming. Everything prior to this is been training for what lies ahead of them.

Al said they raided a Big Stop and took every camera, battery, and tape they could find. It caught my attention, mostly because Big Stop sounds a whole lot like Big Spot from 4x01. The point was that they now have several cameras traveling around with various groups when they split up to do different things. But of course, Battery Theory.

It's a little unclear what happened with Logan. He showed them where a gas tanker was (though he still hasn’t found the “oil fields”) but they left him behind. All we saw was he running after Sarah’s truck. 

Sarah was quite gleeful about it. And it's a little odd because obviously stuff happened that we haven’t seen yet. Last we saw in 5x08, while they obviously didn't entirely trust Logan, they seemed to be willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. I got the feeling they would keep a watchful eye on him, but they weren't planning on kicking them out of the group either.

So they’ve obviously skipped over some things and I'm sure they’ll go back and show us what happened and why the decision was made to leave him behind at some point.

We saw them utilizing red and yellow gas cans. Very significant colors. Red = death, yellow = escape. I didn’t notice any green gas cans, so this particular color sequence is, as yet, incomplete.

Dwight said, "I got lucky." (Luck Theory.) He’s also still wheedling and he created a chess set. 

That’s significant and we’ve seen chess sets in the past, both around him and the Gov (X). I also think it's interesting that Dwight doesn't want a haircut. He said in 5x08 that he might take Daniel up on the offer. Now suddenly he's decided against it. I feel like that could be symbolic, and there's a specific reason for it, but I'm not sure what it is. We know that him and Daryl are heavily paralleled and they’re not going to cut Daryl’s hair short anytime soon, so maybe that's it.

We saw a lot of food symbols in this episode. Grace mentioned rice noodles and then they ate them at the end. Anyone who follows @frangipanilove’s theories knows about her noodle theories. It's a symbol we’ve seen a lot, specifically in FTWD, and she has tied it to resurrection and return symbolism. Grace also mentioned being low on powdered eggs. In general, eggs = Easter eggs = resurrection symbol. Tptb also often talk about leaving Easter eggs for us to find. It's kind of interesting to hear that.

They went out of their way to mention that Grace is listening to an audiobook. I'm not entirely sure what to make of this, but it’s such a random detail that they focused on, I'm sure it significant. We didn’t hear the title or author of the audio book, so we can’t read into that. Perhaps it's just a way of showing that book titles we see are significant.

We heard Sarah sing a trucker song about hunting a bear. Obviously, that's a big deal because bear symbolism is part of the Sirisu/Dogstar/return symbolism. Here, it was associated with music. They had a whole discussion about music and Sarah even called it an anthem. Look at lyrics again.

This was one of my favorite symbols in this episode. Let's assume for a minute that bear = Sirius/return symbolism, which means bear = Beth’s return. The song is specifically about hunting a bear. Which suggests looking for a return. The group is actively looking for people to help. So, the way I interpret this is that perhaps the people they’re looking for will eventually lead to Beth’s return.

The main story, aside from having the characters talk about how they feel and where they're at mentally, was about helping a woman named Tess and her son leave their home. She contacted Morgan via walkie-talkie, telling him her husband left to get an inhaler for their son. He never returned.

The husband put landmines all over the front yard and Tess was afraid to leave because she hadn't left in years, since before the apocalypse happened. The group splits up to try and help her. June and Strand find the drugstore but the inhaler isn't there. They figure he must've already gotten it and headed home. Then, when Alicia is by one of the painted trees (which I'll talk about in a minute) a blond male walker comes up behind her and Strand kills it. Turns out, this walker is Tess's husband. He’s dead.

Morgan's group crosses the yard to help Tess and Morgan steps on landline. It's pressurized, which means it won’t go off until he lifts his foot. Al tries to help him disarm it and Tess leaves her house to help as well. Thankfully, everyone gets out alive and Morgan does not lose his foot.

(Although, the way they focused on his foot on the landmine did make me think of Lost Shoe/Foot symbolism. I can't help but wonder if this is a foreshadowing for something down the road and if Morgan might lose his foot at some point. Or perhaps this is jut a way to tie this situation to other symbolism we’ve seen before. Not sure yet.

John says the Tess situation hit home for each of them in a particular way. Morgan was very invested because of what happened to his wife and son. He very much wanted to save Tess and her son because he couldn't save his own family. Because her husband didn’t come back, June and John, who looked for each other, sympathized with her insistence that her husband would return. I thought this was an interesting way to examine where each of the characters are mentally at this point.

At one point, John talked about being partners with Morgan. He said Morgan doesn't talk much. He then talked about being a cop and how you could not say more than two words to your partner all day, but you know them inside and out, and what makes them tick. You have each other's back know how to work and survive together. He basically said that's what Morgan was like. Morgan said the same thing about John, that the neither of them talk very much, but they still work well together.

I sat and thought for a bit about why they included this little snippet. It was a little strange. Morgan and John did work together in this episode, but Al and Luciana with them, as well as others. It wasn’t just the two of them, or anything. It might be a foreshadowing of some arc the two of them will have together in coming episodes, but it also made me think a little bit of other relationships we’ve seen on the show. Naturally, my head went to Beth and Daryl. While Beth definitely talked more than Daryl, there were parts (such as the beginning of Still) where the two of them just stared at one another and didn't say much. It's really about getting to know people not having to fill the silence. Whether it's a romantic relationship or platonic, I really like this theme.

John mentions ugly mustard situations. It’s just a way of saying the situation was very bad. But here’s the thing, guys. In biblical symbolism, the mustard seed is very obviously entwined with the concept of faith. And who talked a lot about faith? That would be Beth. In terms of this situation, “ugly mustard” may specifically apply to a scene where there’s a lack of faith being demonstrated.

Oh, one other really fun reference John made: he was talking about how money is useless now in the apocalypse and the true currency is survival skills. He said something about people who used to sit on piles of money. The kind of people who ate “caviar from ladles.” Yeah, that’s an ocean reference and a Little Dipper reference all rolled into one, y’all. ;D

There were several mentions of something that was needed or something they all needed. It reminded me of the S7 TWD title "Something They Need." I think they said this about Tess needing the inhaler. I know Morgan talked about having planned the campfire dinner at the end and saying it was something, "we all need." This was a definite theme in this episode.

The other theme that I saw was actually very powerful and I feel like it reaches through both shows. They talked about how they didn't blame Tess for not believing her husband was dead. Morgan said that sometimes you can know someone's dead, you can see they’re dead, you still just don't believe it. Basically, it's because you can't bring yourself to say goodbye. 

Tess was that way. She couldn't bring herself to say goodbye. At the end, she did and then she was able to leave her house, go with Morgan's group, and start to live and move forward again. This is something very specific to Morgan because he said that the same thing happened with him and his wife and son. He never said goodbye to them, and he needs to, he just doesn't know how.

I think we could apply this to Daryl. He’s sad because he's never really said goodbye to Beth. In a way, this is actually sort of the opposite of her arc. Here, Tess was told her husband was dead. People saw him as a walker, but she just couldn't make herself believe it. The opposite was true of Beth. We never saw her as a walker, we never saw her get stabbed in the head, but everyone still believes she's dead, when she’s not. So, there’s an anti-parallel going on here. Meanwhile, Daryl has never said goodbye to her.

This is also the key to what's happening whenever any character loses someone and can’t move on from them. They have to find a way to say goodbye, but often they don't know how.

(@wdway often says that FTWD is teaching us HOW to read TWD symbolism. They’re much more obvious in how it should be interpreted, but that just give us a map of how to read TWD symbolism. I think she’s right and this is a good example of it.)

At the end, the group eats rice noodles, carrots, and nuts. I already talked about the rice noodles, but the carrots are big as well. Those were big Beth symbol.

I said I’d return to the painted tree. I'm not going to say too much about it here because I'm going to do a post later in the week that touches on it as well, but this is the other thing that made me super-excited about this episode. Alicia says that she wants to find out who painted the trees. She wants to find them.

Before, I just thought the trees would be used as symbolism in the show. I didn't think they’d be part of the plot beyond that. But Alicia saying this is a foreshadow. Eventually, they will find whoever is painting the trees.

Of course, my first thought was, could it be Beth painting these trees? I'm about 50/50 on that. The wording and the faith inherent in the message (mustard mentioned in the same episode as this tree) definitely sounds like her. But to be fair, we also never saw her doing visual art this way. She was all about the music. The person we did see doing visual art was Jadis, who is also now tied to the helicopter group. I'm not saying Jadis painted the trees. That actually wouldn't make sense given that currently, FTWD is six years behind TWD. Jadis and the Heapsters are still at the junkyard. I’m just saying we can tie it to Rick’s departure and the helicopter group.

You could argue that these are little notes left on the trees for people to find after the person who painted them had already left. It just feels a lot like Beth wanting to leave the thank you note at the funeral home in case the owners ever came back.

I don't know where this will lead, of course, and it may have nothing to do with her in the plot, but it still made me super excited.

At the end, we see a young man watching the group’s video. They’ve set it up at a gas station along with a walkie for people to watch and contact them. The TV and walkie are hooked up to a generator in a locked room. The man doesn’t use the walkie to call them but rather breaks into the generator room and steals some gas. He uses it to fill up his motorcycle. (He and Daryl would be biker buds.)

Then Logan and his group arrive. Logan first assumes he’s with Morgan’s group, but of course he’s not. He looks a little like Heath, but this is a new character. Logan says he likes this guy, but he still steals his stuff and shoots his bike, basically stranding him. He even encourages the guy to call Morgan’s group on the radio and convey a message. No way to know yet if this guy will contact them or not.

Obviously this is a set up for the rest of the season (which will probably consist of Morgan’s group looking for and finding more people, and having run-ins with Logan) but I also saw some interesting symbols in this final sequence.

Inside the gas station (a symbol by itself) was a large sign for hot dogs. It was the “dogs” more than the food that caught my attention, but still. There’s also a money orders sign. I haven’t talked about this, but let’s just say @frangipanilove is working on a money/currency theme in the show. So just tuck this away for now.

The gas station has Grady lighting inside and signs for hot dogs. The gas can he carried out was also blue. 

I also noticed that when Logan got out of the car, he was wearing cowboy boots and the camera focused on them for a second. Not sure what to make of that, but I think it’s significant. Lost Shoe symbolism? Beth’s boots? Even reminded me a little bit of Boots (Tauriel) from 7x08, because it showed the boots before it revealed the face (Logan). So we’ll have to keep an eye on that moving forward.

Actually, there was a lot of shoe symbolism in this episode. There’s what I’ve already mentioned with Morgan and Logan, and then Logan throws a torn up pair of cowboy boots at this guy at the end, saying this is what happens to your shoes and feet when you walk 200 miles. That has to be symbolic--especially as they use cowboy boots--but I’m not sure exactly what it points to yet. 

Also, there an RV (time symbol) in the background as they talk.

So, we definitely have a lot of potential for this coming season and where it will lead. They set up Logan as a villain in the first episode of the season, but we didn't deal with him very much in the A half. I’m sure he'll be in the B half a lot more. Also, meeting new people to help gives us the potential to run into the helicopter group some more and perhaps find the person who is painting the trees. (Yay!) What did everyone else think of this episode?