#sometimes i even have to tell them that no icelandic girls name ends with the sound “E” and neither do any boys names here.

[siri-ike]

@megasweetbones I'm making this the prequel to the other fic

Warning ⚠️ suicidal thoughts from a child, ploting to murder a child, multiple deaths, semi successful suicide, S.A., victim blaming negative self-talk

(Also, let me know, do you want the warning, or is it too much of a spoiler?)

Pronunciation guide for the name Álaug

Ál sounds like owl, Au sounds like eui, soft G

The thorns dug into her palm, causing her to bleed, but she refused to loosen her grip. This is it. Álaug thought as gravity brought her closer and closer to her inevitable end. Well, actually, she thought, "Í víti finn ég loksins frið" but, she's about to die, she's allowed to be a litte edge lord right now. The closer she got the brighter she could see the glow of the Lazarus water from behind her. She kurled in on herself around the black rose as the pit swallowed her whole.

One week earlier

This is it. This is the day Athanasia will escape. She's planned it for months, and it's finally time.

"Your target is Gord Keener, a Canadian politician. He's sponsoring a girl's hockey league. You will each join one of the teams to get close and kill him once you get the opportunity."

Athanasia stood perfectly still, as Grandfather assigned her her first leading role for a mission since being declared an unsuccessful attempt. It would just be her and Danielle, no, Daniel. He had told her just a few nights ago. No way would Grandfather accept him like that, especially on top of all his other issues, so she had to bring him. Which is fine. She can hunt food for herself. What's one more? Plus, she's ha- he's had some combat training, too. That's gonna take some getting used to.

The problem started when Grandfather made her bring Álaug. Come on, she had only been there for 2 months. She's not ready for a task. She barely speaks their language. But you know what? Athanasia is nothing if not resilient. She will overcome this obstacle. And not just because Daniel begged her not to kill her and push her body of a steep cliff.

Tryouts were easy, Daniel was great in cold environments, and Álaug was surprisingly a fantastic skater. They successfully infiltrated the 7, 8, and 9 year old teams.

Even with the added obstacle, this all felt too perfect. If Athanasia didn't know any better, she'd think Grandfather was purposely putting all his problems in one boat to get rid of them. The mission itself is so inconsequential. What could one polite snowman do to them?

"What about you, Jasmine?... Jasmine?"

Oh, right. Jasmine was the name she had given.

"What?"

"Which comic do you want? Alicia brought a bunch." One of the Olivias stated.

"I have Phantom Stranger, Tales from Atlantis, Boom-boom Kaboom, Return of the Gray Ghost, and The Time Keeper. Everything else is already taken."

These girls don't even know her. And from how Alicia had spoken about her books, they were clearly important.

Atha- Jasmine ended up reading 7 issues of the Time Keeper. A mysterious cloaked figure who punishes time travelers for messing with the timestream. What utter nonsense. The real Time-Wraiths would never be as welcoming and well spoken as this Time Keeper. And yet she can't stop reading. That is, until she gets to the 7th issue. In it, there's a side plot where three young girls are planning to assassinate a member of the time council. The oldest and youngest were sisters. The youngest looked exactly like Daniel but had short hair, and the third character was the most concerning. In the story, the girls told the Green Hornet that they were being blackmailed into doing the job, but in the end, it turned out the third girl had been sent as a spy.

Athanasia can in no way be considered gullible or naive. Even by assassin standards, she can sniff out a lie a mile away. But this, this is different. But the book she chose happened to be the one that warns of a traitor? That has to be an omen, or some kind of spirit trying to warn her.

At this point, Daniel is used to pretending to be one of the girls. But it felt different this time. One of his teammates had asked if she could call him Dani for short, and it felt so right. Righter than "Daniel" had felt. "Danny" was absolutely perfect.

There wasn't really any information gathering to do, so he was free to play sleepover games with the rest of his group. For once, he was included with the others. The adults didn't try to separate him or tell him he's too weak or that he was a waste of resources. He was just part of the group. Is this what life will be like outside the league? He couldn't wait to tell Athanasia all about it.

Two months ago Álaug was happily vacationing with her parents and two older brothers. And now she's expected to kill some guy? She had exepted that her parents were dead. She had had to. And even if Bölverkur and Böðólfur had survived in the first place, they definitely couldn't have survived two months alone in the Himalayan mountains. They can't even be left home alone for a week. Couldn't.

"Oley? Oley? Can you hear me?" One of the hockey girls was butchering her name.

"It's Á-laug," There wasn't any feeling in her voice. She used to hate it when people mispronounced her name. "It means curse or charmed lake."

That seemed to catch the girls off guard, and they left her alone for a while after that.

Until one of the adults walked over to her. Not the coach. This is one of the girls' moms.

"Hi, sweetheart." She placed a hand on Álaugs knee only to get slapped away. "Why are you mad at the other girls?"

Leading question, assigning her an emotion rather than asking her how she feels. The assassins taught her all about it. There's no point talking to her because she's already decided what's happening. Álaug stood up in silence and headed towards the door. The woman grabbed her hand. As she expected, there was no attempt to check herself. She would only assign blame. Álaug looked back at her. There was nothing in her eyes, no aggression or sadness, just hollowness. "What is your plan?" She leers. "Hoping that I'll scream and yell, so you can look like the big stong authority figure? Want me to blindly obey your orders so you can feel powerful? What me to cry, so you can comfort the new girl? You didn't even ask what happened. You just decided that I was in the wrong. Because someone told you a biased version of half a story." Álaug was fully aware how uncomfortable she made people, no one likes hearing such complicated accusations from a 9 year old, especially one who is clearly speaking a second language. And the calmness makes her all the more unsettling. But right now, she just couldn't pretend. The parent chaperone, or whatever she was, stood there in stunned silence long enough for Álaug to make her way out of the common area and into one of their bedrooms, where she locked herself in. From there, it was just a matter of climbing out the window. Hopefully, she'd get lucky and never see any of these people again, not the hockey team, the assassins, her cooperatives, anyone. Maybe she'd get lucky and disappear forever. Their room was on the 14th floor. She could disappear right now, and no one could stop her.

🎶🎵🎶

If only whoever was in the room to the left above them could stop singing for five minutes so she could think.

Climbing wasn't just something the league thought her. She was already good. She was on a lot of teams and sports clubs before Nanba Parbat. Not that any of that mattered now. Her friends probably think she died with her family. If only. There was a half-naked man singing and dancing alone in the room. He was way off tune. She climbed properly onto the balcony. Should she pick the lock or knock? Wait, no, why would she need to get in? She didn't care about this guy. The only thing he has going for him is that he hasn't pissed her off yet. She opted for knocking, which startled him in a rather animated manner. He opened the glass door to let her inside.

"Did Henry lock you out here?"

"Ég slapp frá forráðamönnum mínum." Easier to pretend not to know English.

"I don't understand." He paused as though thinking. "WOULD. YOU. LIKE. SOME. TEA?" Idiot.

She walked past him towards the door. But she stops. Putting aside the stupidity of trying to yell over the language barrier, why offer tea? Does he expect her to stay? She hurries, but the door is locked. Hotel doors aren't supposed to lock people in. There must be someth-

"Come now, he was probably just having a bit of fun."

She should have known. How could she be so stupid? Any trustworthy person would have been shocked to see an 8 year old girl in pajamas on their balcony. She didn't need to look back to know he was coming closer. For the first time in two months, she actually felt something. Why'd it have to be fear? She bolted for the nearest open door, which happened to lead to bedroom with a large fancy looking bed. She closed the door behind her, but there was nothing to block it. All she could do was hide. Whether she chose under the bed or in the closet, she'd be at a disadvantage either way. She darted under the bed. Down side: reduced speed, vulnerable position. Upside: he's too big to fit, and he can't reach her if she stays in the center.

"Putting up a fight, huh? I like that. Some of the other girls he hires make it too easy."

Tell him you weren't hired for anything and give away your location? Or assume the worst of a guy who apparently regularly hires girls young enough that she could be confused for one. Easy choice. She trained her eyes on his shoes as closed the door behind him.. Then his pants dropped to his ankles. Álaug reaches a hand into her pajama bottoms, for the knife straped to her thigh. Thank you, League of Assassins... ACTUALLY NO, they're the reason she's here. The league can all go lick this guy's sweaty butthole!

"Do you have braces?" He slowly made his way towards the bed. "The last one had braces. They leave scratches." It sounded like he wanted the answer to be yes.

The closet made a creaking noise, and he turned to it. He opened the closet door and grunted in disappointment. Álaug heard the scratching of hangers sliding around on a metal pole and clothes being shifted around. Interrupted suddenly by a thump, then a second, smaller pair of bare feet land on the floor behind him as he trips forward into the closet. Álaug uses the opportunity to run out from under the bed and slice his exposed ankles. He screamed and swore at the top of his lungs but only for a moment before Álaugs knife was taken from her and stabbed straight into the man's neck. The other girl. She stood there holding the knife in place and covered in blood. She was obscured in the darkness. The man jolted an arm, and Álaug took the chance to leap over to the other girl, grab the knife, and repeatedly stab him in the throat again. She felt a pain in her cheeks. She brought a hand to her face only to find that she couldn't stop smiling. Like this was her life's greatest accomplishment. The other girl took her hand and they left the room together.

In the light of the living area, she could properly make out the girls' features. She had medium brown skin and darker brown currly hair with a few broken butterflies clips in it. Her greenish brown eyes were full of tears and snot poured from her upturned nose. She examined Álaug too. Her eyes darted from her straight, dirty blonde hair to her narrow chin and down to her slightly oversized PJs held together with a headband around her waist.

"I'm Nadia. You?"

"Álaug, it's Owl like the animal Au like in bird and ends with a soft G."

"Oh, ok, um, Nadia is like, ah.-"

"It's fine. I can remember Nadia." Álaug pointed at Nadias loose jersey. "You on one of the teams?"

"Nah, Mama Crieo had me wear this to get into the hotel."

Álaug looked down at the logo on her own top. "Oh, you're an assassin, too?"

"Uhm, no." She looked at Álaug with a bit more scrutiny this time. "Who were you here to assassinate?"

"Gord Keener, a politician, I don't know what he did, can't be as bad as that guy." She gestured back to the unconscious man bleeding out behind them.

Nadia narrowed her eyes. She pointed to a suitcase on the floor. Álaug walked over to it, and Nadia followed, still refusing to let go of her hand. Álaug checked the bag tag from his flight. "Keener"

"Oh, well, that worked out nicely then."

"Nicely? Are you - " She sighed." Never mind, we should get out of here." She holds out her blood-stained jersey. "He probably didn't have spares in our sizes."

Nadia hated the plan. Staying in the suite with a dead body while Álaug climed down to get extra clothes was the absolute last thing she wanted to do, right after having to use their assailants grown man shoes to step in more creep blood to obscure their distinctly child sized bloody footprints. She finished shortly before Álaug got back, wearing two pairs of shorts and to jerseys, and two pairs of sneakers slung over her shoulders. They left the clothes near the body and snuck out using a keycard Nadia had found during her cover-up.

"Olie!"

They were almost to the front door when that same parent chaperone spotted them.

"Olie! Get back here!" She ran towards them. And they sprinted as fast as they could, but it was no use. "Olie, we were worried sick. How did you even get out?" She held tight onto Álaugs wrist.

"I thought your name was Álaug." Nadia remarked.

"So, did, I." Álaug snarked.

"This isn't funny. You're coming with me." She started walking back, dragging a resistant Álaug behind her.

Nadia watched on horrified, a million thoughts rushed in and out of her head, and she did something she never thought she would.

She bit the woman's hand.

It was shocking enough that they both could escape out the front door without being caught.

They stopped in an alley almost three blocks away to catch their breath.

"We need to find a thrift store, catwalk around wearing a recognizable team logo." Álaug suggested.

"Ok," Nadia pulled a battered looking leather wallet from he pants pocket. "20, 40, 60, 80, 90, 100, 5, 10, 15, 20, 25, 26, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12. We have one hundred and thirty-two dollars. Hope they have coats in our size, or at least thick hoodies." She picked out the ID and credit cards. "Mama Crieo says to never take the cards because they can be tracked." She slips them into a nearby drain cover.

"I can't believe I didn't think to take his money." Álaug looks fondly at Nadia. "That must be why people commit crimes with partners."

The elderly woman who owned the diner they'd hidden behind very helpfully gave them directions to the nearest second-hand store not owned by Debra, to whom she apparently refused to send business. The store she sent them to was perfect. The kids' section was huge, and they were even able to find somewhat matching overalls. Score. Álaugs were mossy green with leaves mushrooms and caterpillar embroidery, paired with a pale yellow bell-sleeved blouse, winter stockings, and black Mary Jane shoes. Nadias were a light pink to orange gradient with butterflies and peach blossom branches, paired with a white long sleeved t-shirt, pale pink winter stockings, and black boots. The hoodie selection was less interesting but they found a purple one with a dinosaur on it and a black one with some stars on the back.

At the counter Álaug quickly ran off and brought back one more item. A pack of butterfly hair clips that she presented to her friend with a smile. They were different from the ones Nadia had, or, the two that were still intact. Her old ones were semi transparent and had round wings. These new ones were glittery and had more square-ish wings. But they were perfect anyway. The price came out to 73CAD and 1 cent. The cashier was nice enough to ignore the one cent so they wouldn't have to carry a bunch of change with them.

Nadia counts their money again after they leave, 59CAD, more than enough for two lunch packs and train tickets. The plan was to go back to Mama Crieo since Henry probably wasn't going to give her a ride back now.

Train tickets for under 12 are 10CAD each, prepackaged sandwiches are 4CAD each, and since somehow water costs money in this country, two water bottles were almost 3CAD, leaving them with only 28.32CAD left.

"Back home water is free." Álaug sat cross-legged in her seat.

"Where is that?" Nadia opened her bottle with a little fizz, she picked the strawberry flavored sparkling water. She wanted a soda, but Álaug told her the salt in it would only make her thirsty again.

"Ísland." She reminisced. That's where her home is, where her grandparents are, her classmates, and where her, her parents, and brothers should all be. "We were on vacation, my mom and dad, Bölverkur and Böðólfur, my brothers." Álaug noticed the confusion on Nadias face. "They were twins, böl means to do something bad, and verk means work or action. Böð means, like, a message about danger or inviting evil, and ólfur comes from úlfur meaning wolf. So Bad do-er and Evil message wolf."

Nadia chucked a bit. And so did Álaug, for a short moment, but it quickly turned to tears.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to laugh, they're perfectly good names." Nadia tried.

Álaug wiped her eyes. "No, it's fine. Æi, They're probably dead, is all. But it's OK, it doesn't hurt as much as before." She sniffled.

Nadia looked down thinking of a way to change the subject. "What does your name mean?"

Inhaling, she tried to steady herself. "Álaug is a combination of álög meaning curse or enchantment, and laug meaning pool. So, a cursed lake. All Icelandic names have some kind of meaning. My dad once got me a book with all the parts of names explained. Like, æ, laug is a pretty common end for a girl name, then there's also Ey meaning island, Rún meaning seacret or friend, Dýs meaning fairy or goddes or some kind of magical woman. For boys' names, there's Ólfur and Úlfur, both mean wolf, Þór God of thunder and lightning, protector of the courts, and those who work the land, Vin meaning friend. There's a whole bunch of them. A lot of starts to, you could pick any of the common starts of a name and a common ending of a name and put them together.-"

That wasn't the end of Álaugs speech,she actually talked about Icelandic naming conversations for almost an hour, and Nadia did not try to stop her. She didn't even remind her to eat her sandwich.

There's way too much of this, so I'll reblog with the second half.

The other fic is Jasmine Al-Ghul

Translations

"Í víti finn ég loksins frið"-> "in the void, I will finally find peace."

"Ég slapp frá forráðamönnum mínum." -> "I escaped from my guardians."

(Ignore my rant in the tags)

If the Lazarus Pits are ectoplasm, what happens if someone throws blood blossoms in one?

[wannabemobwife]

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas - Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Blood is Thicker than Water

Dad!Mob!Tom x Mom!Mob!Reader

-Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader, Rosie Holland x Henry Osterfield, Rosie Holland x Linus Perry

-Warnings: References to sex, language, typos, sad thoughts, attempted suicide, vomiting

-Words: 4.4K

A/n: Thank you so mucg guys with all the live support. Finally done, yay, with part 1

Chapter 17: Blood is Thicker than Water

Words: 4.4K

Four years had passed and Rosie was the only one to stick around. Everything had changed. You and Tom were currently on your trip around the world. Traveling everywhere from Cuba to Greece. Taking in sights of the world.

Embarking on journey covering 3 continents and 10 countries so far. You had already visited the Taj Mahal in India, the Amalfi Coast for some sun, and Iceland just for the blue lagoon hot springs. You and Tom were having the time of your lives, it being the perfect distraction from everything back home.

Rosie was running the mob along with her new right hand and consigliere, Linus. Rosie had been taking on the mantle as the new leader of the Holland mob. Picking up where Parker left off. Trying to do him justice. Tom had helped her learn the ropes but she always had that fiery personality desired for a mob persona.

After four years, Rosie learned to embrace her grief instead of shoving it away, she began to visit Parker’s grave more and more. Tried to every week, but life got in the way. She would bring a new set of flowers to freshen up the old ones.

She knew today would be especially hard, every year it was impossible. Rosie could barely get through the day. Today was her 20th birthday, marking 4 years of celebrating without Parker.

Rosie and Henry’s relationship had grown into one full of misery. Trapped in a loveless relationship, but he was still her best friend. With just one look he would know what she was thinking.

Over the past couple years, Henry has been so obsessed with keeping her safe that it was driving her mad. Rosie understood that Henry didn’t want to lose her like he lost Parker, but Rosie ran a mob and danger followed her everywhere. They started drifting apart when everything happened with the Holland family, creating unfixable cracks in their foundation.

Lately, Rosie had been feeling someone watching her every move. Following her whenever she would be downtown. Feeling a presence she hasn’t felt in a while. Constantly shivering in fear, feeling as though she was observed. From then on, every move she made was calculated and thought out.

When Rosie first took on the mantle, she cleaned house. Eliminating those whose loyalty would always lie with Tom. Trying to affirm the fact that she was so much more than just Tom’s daughter. She had let William go and few others because she brought in Linus.

Even after starting her new regime, things have been a bit off, lately. She hasn’t been sleeping through the night. She’d jolt out of sleep, drenched in a cold sweat. Henry would be startled awake as well by her movement as move to comfort her.

“Roo, you okay?” Henry asked groggily, yawning a bit. Rosie gasping to catch her breath. Her dreams were supposed to be an escape but now they were doing more harm than good. “I don’t know. I keep having these dreams about Parker. Like he was trying to tell me something,” Rosie said, gathering her bearings. It wasn’t everyday she was visited by her deceased twin brother. “From beyond the grave?…Rosie, he’s gone,” Henry pondered. “I know, I just can’t shake this feeling. That he is… he’s.”

“What? Still alive? Honey, we buried him. You cried over him. If he was still alive don’t you think we would’ve shown his face by now. Wilson and Carter are gone, they have been for awhile now,” Henry explained, hoping it would bring her some solace. Henry wasn’t blind to the change in her demeanor, she did open up to him about being followed everywhere she went. “I guess you’re right. But my dreams feel so real,” Rosie whispered, lying back down. Ready to drift off into a deep sleep. One not tainted by the memory of Parker. “Go, back to sleep baby.” Henry said, he knew they would be getting up in a few hours anyway. Tomorrow was a very big day. Henry knew he and Rosie had been drifting but he was all set to give her the best birthday ever.

Henry had bought tickets for you and Tom to fly in for her birthday and stay for awhile. This time of year was hard for all of you but it wasn’t fair to Rosie. The day that is supposed to be about her has always been shared but now no one dared acknowledge it. It was just a reminder of what had been lost.

“Good morning, beautiful. Happy birthday,” Henry whispered, peppering her face in kisses as the morning sun shone through the curtains.

“Thank you,” Rosie sighed. Every year was a challenge. It got a little better every year but she knew she would never fully accept his absence.

“What do you have planned today?” Henry inquired, he was always one for big gestures. He absolutely hated that she no longer enjoyed her birthday.

As a kid she loved the idea of turning a year older, getting to grow up and getting loads of presents of course. You always made the priority of throwing the most perfect themed parties for Rosie and Parker. One year they had a pirate themed pool party with a treasure hunt and another a circus/carnival theme with fair games and a petting zoo. You loved going all out for their birthday. Just spoiling them in general.

Rosie and Parker, also Tom, can’t forget about him, made life worth living. You and Tom did everything for your kids, never wanting them to feel an ounce of sadness.

But the times had changed, you were no longer the mother to a son. It was just Rosie and you thanked God everyday that she was still there but your heart will forever be scarred.

Scars take forever to heal, sometimes never. There will never be a day when you don’t miss Parker or he doesn’t cross your mind. Everything you did from the moment he died was for him, in one way or another. You knew the grief would never stop but you hoped Rosie would one day be able to move on with life.

“You know…” Rosie murmured. “Oh yeah, say hi for me,” Henry nodded along remembering Rosie was going to spend the day next to her better half, Parker.

Rosie proceeded to get dressed and ready for the day. She wore a tight grey dress showing off the perfect curves of her body. And a pair of black high heels to complete her power woman ensemble. “Henry, you aren’t throwing me a party right? I really don’t want one,” Rosie inquired. Rosie would prefer to have all birthdays pass and wash away but she knew Henry wouldn’t allow that. At the most she would have a nice dinner with him and watch a movie.

“You’ll just wait to find out,” Henry grinned cheekily. In reality he was throwing her surprise party to help her find the joy in her birthday again.

“Henry seriously, not this year,” Rosie announced. “It’s never any year. You haven’t celebrated in 3 years. You need to get over this.”

“Get over what? The death of my twin brother?” Rosie asked, astounded at Henry’s previous statement. The nerve he had, wow.

“Roo, I’m sorry,” Henry tried to apologize but Rosie left in a huff.

“Talk later, Linus is waiting for me,” Rosie yelled, already walking out of the room. “Linus, you ready to go?” Rosie said, as she found him drinking coffee in her kitchen. He sat at the bar, legs dangling off the chair as she came down. “Yes, Roo,” he said, a little out of breath from taking the awe of her beauty.

“Please don’t call me that around Henry… What’s on the agenda?” Rosie asked Linus as she poured herself her own cup of coffee.

“Well, Shaw owes you 3 million and the deadline you gave him expired,” Linus explained, he knew Rosie hated having things held over her head. She would prefer to get them out of the way as soon as possible.

“Well then, let’s go pay him a visit. I could use a drink. Afterwards, can you drop me off at the cemetery?” “Of course, Roo,” Linus said. Rosie huffed in response, rolling her eyes at the name. Linus loved to get a rise out of Rosie. Her remarks to his comments were just a sign of their playful banter.Rosie’s relationship with Linus was complicated. They were partners, most of the time.

Rosie had gone really dark over the past years. There were days where she refused to get out of bed. Sitting in bed wasting the entire day away. Henry would come home from work and try his best to comfort her but after Parker he was just as lost as her. They lived in the same house but not truly together. Not as lovers, maybe as roommates.

All Rosie could feel were thoughts of hopelessness, desolation, and misery. Never being able to find that light at the end of the tunnel. She didn’t deserve to find it, thinking she was the one who pushed you and Tom away. Blaming herself for Parker. All these feelings and Henry wasn’t there, too busy with his own life.

One day, Rosie had gotten real low. Couldn’t find a way out so she went to the gun room grabbed the closest pistol, a bottle of scotch, a glass and sat in Tom’s office. She rested on Tom’s chair trying to find the will to end it all. To point the pistol and pull the trigger.

It would be so easy, the flick of a finger. No more pain. She tried not to think about everything she was giving up. Never seeing you or Tom again, or Henry. Never loving him again, if they ever did manage to find their way back to each others arms. Never experiencing the things that made life worth living.

All her thoughts were halted as Linus barged in. He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw the broken girl hold a gun unto her temple, its safety clicked off. The room was cold as an icy chill ran down his spine.

“Rosie, what are you doing!?!” Linus thundered, trying to stop her before she pulled the trigger. “I don’t know. I think I’m trying to end it all,” Rosie whispered as tears streamed down her face. Deep down she didn’t want to pull the trigger, she wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

“End what all? Your life?” Linus asked, trying to talk her off the metaphorical ledge. Something had to happen that pushed her to this point. Rosie had to be drowning and calling out for help but no one came. “No, it was never about killing myself. It was just about ending the pain and suffering,” she cried.

“Rosie, listen to me. There is so much more you have to live for. This will pass. Think about everything you are giving up.” Linus tried to appeal to the people she loved, you, Tom, and Henry. Losing Rosie would no longer make you a mother. How could Rosie take that away from you?

“I already have and it hasn’t, for 2 years. How do you know it will get any better?” Rosie begged for a true answer. She had been slumping around, letting the days pass her by as she stood silent, screaming non-vocally for help. Trapped in an asylum of misery. “I don’t. But I’ll be there to help you,” Linus exclaimed, giving her the truthful response she wanted. Rosie just needed to hear that she wasn’t alone in this world anymore. “No, you won’t. You’ll just leave like everyone else. Henry doesn’t love me anymore. My parents left. I’m all alone.” “Roo, you aren’t alone. Just hand me the gun and we can work this out. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be here,” Linus pleaded. That was the first time he had used that nickname. The name had been reserved for only Henry, Parker and you. In that moment Rosie saw someone she missed so dearly in Linus, Parker. Parker was the only person who was 100% there for her. He was there to talk her off the ledge. He was there at her weakest and in a split second he was standing in front of her.

Rosie gave in, removing the gun from her temple, clicking the safety one and handing it over. She slowly stood up, coming over to Linus and collapsed in his arms. Rosie whispered a small “I missed you” as he held the broken girl. He was the only one who could pull her out. Not Henry, god she wished it was Henry. Linus understood her pain and didn’t try to fix everything.

Henry was the opposite. Constantly worrying about Rosie and trying to find a solution for everything. Things from the slightest backache to feelings of hopelessness. Rosie didn’t need fixing she just needed to be heard and Linus made sure she was. At Harmon’s, the bar was quite empty. Just Shaw and a few of his men. Shaw has borrowed money from Rosie to clear of a few charges. The Holland name had some pull in the legal community. Dating back to Dom’s days but Tom mostly laid down roots.

Linus entered first, firing two shots to take out Shaw’s capos. “Jesus Christ,” yelled Shaw as his protection thudded against the floor.

Rosie followed Linus in, making her presence known, “Shaw, you know I’m not a fan of people not staying true to their word. Do you have my money?”

“Rosie, doll. I paid you in full already. If this just your sad attempt to stir something up we can work this out another time. Shoo, let me finish my drink,” Shaw snickered. “Shaw, I know your games. You have 3 minutes to transfer my money right now. One for each million. I have Linus checking for a deposit of 3 million, make this simple and do it,” Rosie stated with an unchanging expression. “I need more time, that’s not enough. It’s all in separate accounts,” Shaw asserted, his voice starting to waver as he stared down the barrel of her pistol. “Well then, I’d hurry if I were you. Here’s your phone. Just wire the money… Starting now,” Rosie exclaimed as Linus devoted his stare to watch. Glancing at the seconds tick away.

“Fine, I’m going,” Shaw screamed, about to crack under the pressure.

“2 minutes left,” Linus chimed in. “Okay, I’m just inputing the dollar amount, it’s a lot of zeros.” Shaw tried to explain. He was about to lose his life because he was slow.

“50 secs.”

“I’m going, I’m going.”

“10, 9, 8, 7, 6—“

“I’m done,” Shaw said, letting out the breath he was holding.

“That was fast but not fast enough,” Rosie whispered raising her gun square to the back of his head. Her finger slipped to the trigger and fired a shot.

BANG

“Wow, I didn’t think you actually kill him,” Linus said, impressed by her ruthlessness.

“He was getting on my nerves, besides he will never borrow money from me again if he is dead,” Rosie chuckled. “You know I found that really hot,” Linus whispered in her ear. “You always do.” Rosie grinned at his advances, trying to pull her close to his chest. “Hey, this can’t keep happening.”

“Oh, come on. You say that every time. I can’t hide my feelings for you anymore.”

“Well, you are going to have to. I was clear about what this was. So I’m going to ask you this once more time, what do you want?” “I want you.” “Well you can have me in the bathroom in 2 minutes.” “Roo, you’re too good to me,” Linus smirked, following her as she glided to the restroom.

Everything lasted about 30 mins. They were in and out in a flash. The bar now smelled of sex and a dead bodies. Linus was the first to finish, coming out of the bathroom looking disheveled as hell. Sporting the same juts had a quickie look. Linus went to pull the car around after fixing his hair in the mirror.

Linus would never be Henry and that was a good thing, Linus was different. By no circumstances was Rosie in love with Linus or will ever be in love with him, he was merely a distraction. Rosie knew her relationship with him was wrong but he made her feel alive once more.

Rosie emerged from bathroom breathing heavy, almost gasping for air, with sweat glistening on her chest. She straightened out her dress as combed down her hair. Stepping out of the doorway, the smell of a fresh rotting body hit her.

Rosie immediately turned around and lunged for the toilet. She had been in the business for 3 years and never before had her body reacted this way. She hurled into the toilet for a good ten minutes. Eventually bringing her head out of the toilet bowl to wipe off her mouth. The air was now coupled with sex, dead bodies and vomit. She was clueless to what forced her to keep her head in a toilet bowl.

After her nausea spell passed her, she had Linus drop her off near the cemetery. “Oh, you can drop me off here. I need something from the pharmacy anyways,”Rosie informed Linus. She was planning on picking up something for her stomach, it was very unlikely for her to throw up suddenly.

“Ok, Roo. Do you need a ride home?” Linus questioned.

“No, Jared is supposed to pick me up. Thank you,” Rosie exclaimed, getting out of the car. “Alright. Happy birthday by the way. Can I have a kiss goodbye?” “Thank you and no. I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah for the party,” Linus called out slowly driving away. “Wait! What did you say?” Rosie remarked but he was already long gone.

Rosie was mentally kicking herself, she didn’t have the willpower to deal with a party tonight. She specifically told Henry, not to throw one but since when did he listen to her.

Their road to ultimately heartbreak was a two way street. Both of them had done something to warrant the loveless relationship. Rosie admitted to herself, that she eventually did stop trying. She stopped constantly asking if Henry wanted to go out for dinner and what time he would be home. Rosie prefers to blame Henry but in reality, she was then one who let go first.

Rosie stopped showing him love, too distraught by his every move because it was a constant reminder her brother wasn’t there anymore. Henry would try to work him into every little conversation, remembering Parker in everything. It grew too much for Rosie. Rosie had never been one for confronting her feelings, preferring to shove them down but how could she, when Henry would never shut up about Parker.

Parker was the main reason a wedge had been driven between them, but she wouldn’t dream of blaming her dead brother. Who couldn’t even defend himself. Rosie needed a reset after Parker but Henry was stuck living in the past.

Rosie was ready to start her life with Henry after graduation but he couldn’t let go. After a while, Rosie became just like him. Stuck drifting into a void of pure sadness. Rosie couldn’t let go, along with Henry. Their lives went in different directions, Rosie was blossoming into a ruthless leader who would only act soft around Parker, vowing to visit his grave everyday. And Henry got left behind at some point, not seeing how he fit in her life anymore.

In the pharmacy she scanned the aisles for some sort of quick remedy. If Henry was throwing her a surprise party, one she specifically asked not for. Rosie didn’t have days to recuperate, maybe a few hours.

She found the largest bottle of Pepto-Bismol and stopped by the card aisle. Carefully grasping a birthday card for her favorite person. One that was funny yet endearing. Parker was addicted to all the corned jokes she would crack. She made her way to the register. In front of her stood a little old woman, she wore a purple floral dress and her white stained hair was pulled into a clip.

“Just this for you sweetie? Oh, who’s birthday is it?” Asked the little lady, referring to the birthday card Rosie grabbed for Parker.

“My brother’s and um, could I also get this,” Rosie responded as her eyes glanced below her. Skimming over the candy bars, gum packets and eventually landing on a pregnancy test. Come to think of it, Rosie was late about a week and a half.

“Of course, honey. Would you like to use the restroom?” Queried the lady. Rosie nodded in response. She finished paying and quickly made her way to the restroom. Following the directions on the box carefully, she needed to be a hundred percent sure, before she told anyone.

Right around the corner was the cemetery. She glided through iron gates, walking across the cobble stone path before she came upon the place she loved most in the world. The place where she would hold nothing back, spilling everything to him.

Life of a mob boss was dangerous but things started to seem eerie for Rosie. She would feel weird presences or someone watching her at eerie times. The same feeling plagued her at the cemetery, today. She knelt down to the headstone, engraved in it read “Here Lies Parker Jackson Holland, Taken from us too soon, a son, a brother, and a friend.”

“Hey, P. You probably get tired of me visiting you. Everyday I’m here and sometimes I think I do it for my benefit more than yours. I hope that wherever you are, you are happy and most likely you are with Charlotte. I’m happy for you, Parker. No matter how much I wish you were here with me, I know that you are happy that you escaped this life. Happy 20th birthday.” Rosie whispered, fixing the flowers that began to wilt from yesterday.

“I have some really amazing news to share with you, but it will have to wait till next time. You can’t be the first person I tell, I’m sorry. He deserves to know before you…. Oh my god, you’ll never believe what happened at work…”

This is the one thing that brought Rosie solace. She persistently blames herself for that fateful night 3 years ago. Rosie would spend hours kneeling next to his headstone. She would tell him about her life and read off the postcards you and Tom sent from your travels. Talking to him as if he was still there.

Rosie glanced at her watch, it was half past five and she hadn’t even called Jared yet to pick her up. “I’m sorry P, I gotta go. Henry, god love him but, that bastard is throwing me a birthday party. I guess I should at least make an appearance. I’ll see you tomorrow, I love you.” Rosie said, walking towards the parking lot.

She stood under the gate for ten minutes waiting for Jared to arrive and escort her home. The weather completely shifted as the sun set around her. The once blue sky changed to one painted with vibrant yellows and pinks. The sky was a sight not to be missed but she could do without the freezing winds that accompanied.

A chill ran down her spine as she waited in the darkness. Feeling a sensation that only warranted panic. Rosie felt someone watching her once again. Maybe from a far or up close, but she definitely wasn’t alone. It was silly that she let feelings like those get to her. She was a mob boss for god sakes, scaring even the most menacing of men into submission.

Rosie eyes started darting everywhere a noise left. In the corner of her eye she caught a figure drenched in shadows approaching. She tried to scramble for her gun, but soon realized she left it in Linus’s car.

The stranger kept making advances and managed to get to her. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed a cloth to her mouth. Causing her to be consumed in darkness as her body grew limp.

Back at the manor, Henry was setting everything up perfectly. His mission was to make Rosie love her birthday once more. While Henry was working hard at hanging the birthday banner and decorating every corner with balloons, Linus was no help at all. Lounging on the couch and finishing a beer.

“So are you going to pick up Rosie and get off your ass?” Henry barked, pulling the coffee out from under Linus, causing him to spill his beer.

“Seriously, dude. What’s your problem?” Linus snapped.

“My problem is my girlfriend isn’t here. Aren’t you supposed to pick her up?” “No, Jared is.” “Linus, Jared is here. He has been for a few hours. Where is she?” Henry questioned, starting to worry. “I don’t know. Last, I left her at the cemetery.” “Henry! It’s so good to see you,” you cheered as Tom and you walked in. Hugging Henry after not seeing him for awhile. It still pained you to visit, traveling was the perfect distraction.

“Hope you have been taking care of yourself, son. Where’s Rosie?” Tom questioned. “Yeah, I’ve been good. At the moment, I don’t know where she is. She’s missing,” Henry concluded. You and Tom stood completely still as you processed the news. It wasn’t everyday that your daughter would disappear into thin air, but her job did keep her life in danger.Rosie missing was uncommon. It had happened once or twice in the past but that was 3 years ago. So much had changed, for the better. Yet, you were once again in the same place, in the house you left because everything was too familiar. Rosie missing was all too familiar.

Rosie came to. Opening her eyes to a place she chose to forget. For all she knew it was an exact replica. Warehouses riddled all of London’s ports, she could be anywhere.

“Text your driver and tell him Henry picked you up for a special birthday dinner,” Rosie’s kidnapper barked, thrusting a phone in front of her.

“Really? You kidnapped me? After 3 years of being leader of London’s most feared mob, it’s like been there done that. Do you want money or something? I have a party to get to.” Rosie quipped, annoyed with they man’s pursuits.

“Oh, I know. I believe happy birthday is granted. 20 years is a milestone.”

“Whatever, I don’t really like my birthday anyway.”

“Wanna talk about it?” The stranger pestered on. Rosie had learned lesson from the last time she was restrained to chair, rope around her wrists and ankles, ceasing blood flow. This time it was zip ties, a little basic for any mobster she has had a run with.

“No. I want you to let me go. Seriously, what do you want? I don’t think you know who I am. Or who my father is,” Rosie asserted.

“A moment alone together is all I ask and I know exactly who you are and who your dad is. Correction, who our dad is.”

“Parker.”

A/n: Finally the end. Alright, I'm going to bed. There is no set schedule for the sequel series, I'm just going to post a chapter when I finish writing it. Let me know if you like to be tagged in the sequel chapters.

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas Masterlist

Taglist: @thenoddingbunny-blog @adriannauni @dummiesshort @bi-lmg @allthisfortommy @quaksonhehe @housepartyprotocol

[scarlettwitcher]

Úlfur minn Part One

Request: by @laneygthememequeen​: Hello lovely! I just saw that youre open to requests and are itching to write something for soft boi geralt! If you’re open to it, can I request a geralt x reader where reader seems like super innocent but is like an actual warrior/badass and he’s just like in awe. Or maybe where the reader is in like a dress for some reason and she usually doesn’t wear dresses because they’re inconvenient for fighting and ends up having to fight in the dress. take care and I hope you have a wonderful day💖

Summary: After Jaskier is finally able to convince Geralt to be his bodyguard for Pavetta’s betrothal dinner, shit goes down and Geralt has to make the decision of whether or not he should tell Y/n how he really feels.

Characters: Geralt, Reader, Jaskier, Calanthe, Eist, Mousesack, Pavetta, Duny, mentions of secondary characters in the show.

Word Count: 2336

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of guts, lots of angst, canon typical warnings, also the title is in Icelandic, it was just something cute for plot.

Author’s Notes: So, I’m not gonna lie, this one got away from me. I found that Episode 4, Of Banquets, Bastards, and Burials fit this request perfectly. This will be a four part mini series. I’m actually really excited to release this to y’all. Million of thanks out to my girl @queenxxxsupreme​. She’s been such an amazing help with writing The Witcher. Everyone send her lots of love! I am accepting requests so please, send them in! If you’d like to be a tag as well, just let me know! Thanks for reading and feedback is always welcome!

“I tell you no lie. It swallowed the whole village, it did. Not a bone to be found!” The man took a second to breathe before scowling at another. “Of, don’t give me that look, shitling. That’s why we had to call him…” The man stood up for emphasis as he recalled the events he had witnessed earlier. “The White Wolf! And he stood in the middle of that frozen lake like he knew it was coming for him. The ice cracked open and a Selkiemore shot out! Oh, you’ve never seen one, but it’d take down a ship with its cavernous mouth full of devil’s teeth!” You tried to stifle your snort as everyone gasped. You took a drink of your ale, quickly scowling at the cup for the foul taste. “And it… swallowed… that Witcher… whole!” 

“Oh, this is brilliant!” You giggled quietly to yourself as you heard Jaskier and slowly reached over, poking his head gently making him look up at everyone staring at him in confusion. “Oh, sorry. It’s just Geralt’s usually so stingy with the details. Uh… and then what happened?”

“He died.”

“Eh… He’s fine.”

“Look, I was there. I saw it with my own-” The door swung open, cutting the man off as Geralt slowly walked into the room, a thick awful smell filling the room. Everyone parted immediately, giving Geralt room to walk straight towards the man. Your eyes widened as you saw him, covered head to toe in guts and it took everything in you not to rush to his side to see if he was okay.

“See?” Jaskier let out a loud laugh and you elbowed him as you stood, making your way over to Geralt, touching his elbow gently before moving to the other side of the tavern, knowing Geralt would make his way over there.

“Oh… What’s that stench?”

“Selkiemore guts. Had to get it from the inside. I’ll take what I’m owed.” 

“Toss a coin to your witcher. O, Valley of Plenty o-oh-oh” As you heard the song leave the bard’s lip, you smiled softly to yourself knowing how much Geralt hated it. Soon everyone joined Jaskier and cheered as they were now monster free.

Once Geralt received payment, he made his way over to you, laying his sword on the table as you smiled up at him and pulled out your handkerchief that you always carried with you and started to wipe his face. Geralt watched you with a reserved softness that he only had for you. Before either of you could get a word out, Jaskier approached behind the both of you.“You're welcome. And now, Witcher, it’s time to repay your debt.” The bartender handed Geralt a mug of ale but before you could advise him not to, he took a sip, and immediately spit it out to the side, getting some on your pants as he stared the bartender down with what could be called rage. “What debt, you’re probably asking yourself in your head right now. Well, I’ll tell you. I’ve made you famous, Witcher. By rights, I should be claiming ten percent of all your coin, but instead, what I’m asking for is a teeny, teeny-weeny little favor.”

“Jaskier, let the man breathe would you. He’s covered in guts.” The Witcher shot you a soft glance. He’d never admit it to anyone but he loved the way you cared about him. He never knew how you could be so kind, caring, and...innocent.

“Y/n, please. Geralt’s already ready for the nex-”

“Fuck off, bard.” You giggled as Geralt gave you a side smile and Jaskier rolled his eyes at your antics. He knew you both had some kind of feelings for each other but would never admit it, because frankly, you both were stubborn idiots.

“Listen Geralt, for one measly night of service you will gain a cornucopia of earthly delights. The greatest masters of the culinary arts crafting morsels worthy of the gods. Maidens that would make the sun itself blush with a single comely smile. And rivers of the sweetest of drinks from the rarest of-” You watched in amusement as Geralt turned around to leave, showing he didn’t care for what the bard was offering. “Fuck! Food, women and wine, Geralt.” 

This made Geralt stop in his tracks before slowly turning to look at the bard. Jaskier’s eyes drifted to you for a second, a bit of guilt creeping in as he saw the way you had momentarily slumped into yourself at the mention of women. Geralt sighed before nodding once, making his way out of the tavern, you and Jaskier following him in haste as you made way to an inn. Before long, you had rented a large suite for the three of you. You walked into the bathroom and prepared a bath for Geralt as he silently followed you into the room, carefully stripping himself of his clothes, not wanting to drop guts on anything else in the room. You knew what he was doing and instantly turned your back to him, feeling your cheeks heat up. You already saw him shirtless and felt the need blossoming in your chest like it always did when you saw him or any part of him. 

“You didn't have to.” 

“I w-wanted to. It gives me a chance to see how you are. Besides, Jask has been on you since we left the tavern and we have a few minutes now, Úlfur minn.”

“You worry too much.” With that, Geralt slowly sat inside the tub. You finally turned around to look at him and it took every ounce of strength of your being to not look down. He knew he was affecting you as your cheeks turned a darker red and smirked as he watched you.

“A s-simple thank you would've been nice.”

“Thank you Y/n.” Geralt mumbled softly. You felt yourself melt at the way he said your name and cleared your throat, moving around the room, getting the necessary items to help him wash off the monster guts now dried on his skin and hair.  You grabbed a chair and sat behind him, laying the objects on the floor. You rolled the sleeves of your shirt (or in this case, Geralt’s shirt that you suspected he never noticed you took) and scooted closer to him. If he didn't stink so much, you could have sworn on your life you would've laid a kiss on his head. Before you could even do anything, Jaskier barged into the room and grabbed the bucket of water you had on the side, dumping it on Geralt's head. He grunted angrily at Jaskier as he looked up at him with disdain. 

“Now, now, stop your boorish grunts of protest. It is one night body guarding your very best friend in the whole wide world. How hard could it be?”

“I’m not your friend.”

“Oh. Oh, really? So, Y/n is your friend but I’m not? Do you usually just let strangers rub chamomile onto your lovely bottom or even Y/n?” You looked at Jaskier with confusion as you looked down at Geralt and you could’ve sworn he sunk a bit in the tub as he remained quiet and watched Jaskier, his eyes watching his every move threateningly. You took this opportunity to grab some soap and rub it into his hair, washing away all the grime he had. Geralt immediately relaxed under your touch and even leaned into your hands, relishing in the way you dragged your fingers in his hair, grunting quietly when a finger got caught in a knot. He would never say it but this was one of his favorite things: when you played with his hair.

“Yeah, well, yeah, exactly. That’s what I thought. Every lord, knight and twopenny king worth his salt will be at this betrothal. The Lioness of Cintra herself will sing the praises of Jaskier’s triumphant performance!” Geralt watched unfazed as Jaskier threw salt into his bath and you smiled proudly at Jaskier’s confidence and even did a tiny fist bump in the air for him to which he responded back with a tiny, dramatic bow.

“How many of these lords want to kill you?”

“Hard to say. One stops keeping count after a while. Wives, concubines, mothers sometimes.” Geralt scowled at him, already regretting the decision he knew he was going to have to unwittingly take. You scrunch your face at Jaskier, wondering how he could sleep with so many women, how the both of them could. You would never admit it to the Witcher but it always pained you to watch him walk off, knowing he was in search of a warm body for the night. Jaskier always consoled you in those dark nights but after a while, you became used to the pain. 

“Ooh, yeah, that face! Ohh! Scary face! No lord in his right mind will come close if you’re standing next to me with a puss like that.” Geralt grabbed the mug of ale you had brought him earlier, bringing it to his lips, but before he could take a sip, Jaskier had plucked the cup and moved it away from him. “Ohh, on second thoughts… might wanna lay off the Cintran ale.” Geralt groaned and you moved your hand quickly to his back, gently massaging him. It worked and he relaxed once more under your touch. Jaskier could only watch in amusement. You both acted like a couple but were just friends. ”A clear head would be best.”

“I will not suffer tonight sober just because you hid your sausage in the wrong royal pantry. I’m not killing anyone. Not over the petty squabbles of men.” 

“Yes, yes, yes. You never get involved. Except you actually do, all of the time." Geralt glared at Jaskier before leaning into your touch once more. “Ugh, is this what happens when you get old? You get unbearably crotchety and cantankerous? Actually, I’ve always wanted to know, do Witchers ever retire?”

“Yeah. When they slow and get killed.”

“Come on, you must want something for yourself once all this… monster hunting nonsense is over with.”

You knew Jaskier was poking the bear. This wasn't the first time the bard asked Geralt this and probably wouldn't be the last but you hated how Geralt responded every time. You always scolded Jaskier when he asked the Witcher this. Jaskier was the only one who knew of your feelings for the big, white haired man and had bestowed the honor upon himself of getting you two together. But it never worked. It just confirmed your fears over and over. Geralt didn't feel anything for you other than strictly platonic emotions. Jaskier looked at you with sympathetic eyes before they dropped down to Geralt. He saw the conflict behind his eyes. His answer was always you. He wanted to tell you but since the first time you met, you made yourself perfectly clear that you only wanted to be friends. Ever since, he's got amazingly well at hiding his feelings for you. “I want nothing.”

Jaskier could only internally groan as he wanted to scream at the both of you. “Well, who knows? Maybe someone out there will want you.” Jaskier stared at you as he spoke and your eyes widened as you shook your head violently. Jaskier sighed as he looked at Geralt. You looked down at your hands, thinking of an excuse to get away from the two men. You didn’t notice the way he turned to look at you, his eyes softening. He turned back around to Jaskier, his face hardening quickly.

“I need no one. And the last thing I want is someone needing me.”

“And yet…” You stood up so quickly, the chair you were sitting on fell back onto the floor. You almost ran out of the room, feeling your eyes hot with unshed tears. Jaskier sighed and shook his head, pointing towards the door where you had run out of. “Here we are.”

“Hm... Jaskier, don't start with this again.”

“If only you could see the way she looks at you.”

“I said don’t.” Geralt needed a distraction as his head was now invaded with thoughts of you. The way you ran out because of his words gave him just a little sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, everything Jaskier bugged him about, day and night, was true. “Where the fuck are my clothes, Jaskier?”

“Ah. Well, uh, they were sort of covered in Selkiemore guts, so I sent them away to be washed. Anyway you’re not going tonight as a witcher and neither is Y/n going as the healer she is. I’ve got clothes for both of you, don’t worry about it.”

With that, Jaskier took his leave into the next room where he found you sitting on the bed with your head in your knees. He slowly approached you and rested a hand on your shoulder. You looked up at the bard, red rimmed eyes, staring down his sad ones.” I didn’t think he'd answer so….I’m sorry Y/n.”

“I-it’s okay Jask. You’ve just been wrong. He really doesn't even look at me as more than a friend. That's all I am, a friend. Besides, he doesn't want a prude like me.”

“You're not a prude Y/n.” You stood and took a deep breath as you walked around the room with pensive thoughts clouding your head. “Look, I was able to get you a rather beautiful dress and I might've bedded a hairdresser...She agreed to help.” You frowned at Jaskier as you quickly shook your dress.

“Dress? Oh no, no, no. I don't like dresses. You know this Jask.”

“You're gonna have to deal with it Y/n. If Calanthe can wear a dress, then so can you.” You groaned loudly at him as he laughed softly. You nodded at him to show you the dress and thus, you all prepared to attend the dreaded event.

*~*

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[humanmoodring-retired]

Good Vibrations & Coffee Contemplations || Raina & Nadia

TIMING: Current  PARTIES: @rainaim & @humanmoodring SUMMARY: Nadia grabs a coffee. Raina makes a friend. CONTENT: brief parental death mention

Raina leaned against the counter top, bored by the lack of customers. The morning rush had come and gone. Now, only a few coffee connoisseurs trickled in every twenty to forty minutes. Her shift wasn’t going to be over for another hour and a half, and though she knew there was plenty that she could do to pass the time, it was hard to find the encouragement, especially when the overhead speakers had died out and there was nobody with the know-how to fix them. She scrolled through her phone, only looking up at a sudden shadow against the door. A customer! Raina shot up and beamed at the woman as she entered the shop. “Hi! Welcome to Coffee Plus.” She punched in her I.D and waited for the woman to begin her order, finally glad to have something to do that wasn’t scrubbing the burnt muffin tins in the back.

Sometimes, Nadia preferred to just stay in her apartment. Most times, really, if she was being honest. And she was trying to do that more often. But she stayed inside too much, and the days were getting longer, and warmer, and generally more enjoyable. And she liked being warm, and she was thinking too much in her apartment. And… she’d run out of coffee, which meant she needed to go somewhere to get a much needed dose of caffeine. Which was how she ended up at Coffee Plus, hoping that the barista wasn’t that poor girl that she and Sammy had ended up tormenting. It wasn’t, thankfully, just a young woman who went from bored to very, very excited so fast it was like emotional whiplash. Nadia blinked. “Uh, yeah. Can I--” she acted like she was deciding what she wanted when really she already knew. “Can I get a triple shot of espresso.” She needed to not fall asleep for a few more hours, at least. “And, uh, a blueberry muffin.” She guessed that maybe she should probably eat something, too.

As the woman approached the counter, Raina looked past her to see if anybody had followed. Nope, she was alone. Disappointment fell over her for a brief movement before she reapplied the smile and gave her attention back to the woman. She had been hopeful that there’d be more customers to help-- that the remainder of her shift would be spent using up her time, not slugging through wiping down each table until her replacement came in to relieve her. Raina nodded enthusiastically as the woman finally ordered. A triple espresso? That was easy. “Sure thing. Can I get a name--” She looked around. “Never mind. Why don’t you go on and find yourself a seat and I’ll bring it over to you when it’s ready.” She kept her smile as she turned back towards the espresso machine. Raina waited for the filter to drip the espresso into the glass below, humming as she went. She quickly warmed up the muffin and put it on a small, off-white plate. Once the woman’s order was ready, she walked it slowly to the table. “Here you are, hon!” She didn’t know if the woman was older or younger than her, but it didn’t matter-- Southern charm leaked from her candy coated tongue.

There wasn’t really anyone else to focus on as Nadia felt the barista cycle through disappointment and hope and just overwhelming enthusiasm at doing her job. “Uh, yeah, thanks.” Nadia managed a tired smile and went over to a table. She checked her phone for a bit, answering a few text messages and looking over a journal article werewolves in medieval Icelandic literature, which was pretty niche reading, even for her, but some website that she’d been on a few weeks ago kept sending her emails with journal articles attached, and she… kept reading them. She didn’t know how accurate they were, and she doubted that Kaden would give her anything more about werewolves beside the fact that most of them were monsters, but it was still an interesting read, even if the words were a little blurry. She looked up when her coffee was brought to her, her smile lopsided. The younger woman was kind and sincere, and Nadia appreciated it, even if it was a lot. She couldn’t help but return the kindness. “I appreciate you bringing it to me. Really, I could have grabbed it myself.”

“Oh, it’s no problem.” Raina looked down at the table, realizing she had forgotten a napkin. She held up a finger and returned to the small table next to the door and grabbed a few before she returned to the customer. She placed them down neatly next to the plate and smiled. “Ain’t got much goin’ on anyhow, so I figured I’d up my customer service game.” She wrinkled her nose. “It’s too much, isn’t it?” She looked over her shoulder at the clock. Barely a blink had gone by. She frowned slightly. Well, the least she could do was start wiping down the tables so that her replacement didn’t have to. “I’m new here,” Raina said aloud as she grabbed a wet dish rag and disinfecting spray. She moved to a table far, but not too far from the customer. “Just moved here… a couple weeks ago?” She nodded as if in approval of herself. “You from around here?” It was small talk-- not something everyone liked, but Raina was desperate.

It was weird to be treated like it was a sit-down restaurant when it was a coffee shop, Nadia thought, but she didn’t mind. “Well, still. It’s kind of you.” She took a sip of her drink, careful not to gulp it down even though she wanted to. It was hot and bitter, and it didn’t do much to wake her up, but it was the thought of it that counted. “Oh, no, dude. Not a lot at all. It’s really nice, actually.” And it was. The other woman was well-intentioned. Nadia didn’t have to be an empath to tell that. “Yeah,” she asked. She could kind of tell the barista was new, but she didn’t want to point that out. Southern charm wasn’t exactly common in Maine, though. Not with an accent that thick, at least. “How do you like it so far?” She took another sip of her coffee, picked at her muffin. “No, no, I’m from Arizona. I moved here, like, a year and a half ago.” Had it really been that long? It didn’t feel like it had been that long. Then again, it wasn’t like she’d been present the entire time. Nadia suddenly wasn’t that hungry, but she picked at the muffin some more, anyway.

Raina began to wipe down the table and looked over at the woman as she drank her coffee. She watched her expression carefully to see if the coffee was too bitter, too hot, or too cold. It seemed just right by the looks on her face, or lack thereof. She looked back down at the table and decided she was done with her current project and moved onto the next. “It’s good. People keep to ‘emselves mostly, which I don’t mind…” She shrugged. “Everyone’s different, but I do like sayin’ goodmornin, you know?” Raina offered a small smile, “But overall s’great. I’ve got a nice roommate.” Onto the next table. “Arizona?” She hummed, “I’ve never been out West, but I imagine it’s a lot warmer than out here, or even Tennessee.” She scrubbed at a stubborn coffee ring on the table. “So how’re you likin’ it? Any tips for a newbie?” Raina asked, looking up from the now spotless table to look at the customer.

Nadia did her best not to gulp down the bitter liquid as it cooled, eager for something to start taking effect. Maybe it just wouldn’t. Maybe she’d be waiting on the caffeine to kick in for the rest of her life; she’d exhausted it’s usefulness, and now she was to be perpetually tired for forever. Whatever. It was fine. At the very least, chatting with the friendly barista wasn’t at risk of putting her to sleep. “Yeah, totally. I get the wanting a good morning and everything. I’m sure people will start talking more as you get settled. It’s a small town. You’d be surprised how much everybody just… knows everybody.” And they did. It seemed like there was never more than two degrees of separation between her and just about everyone that she met in White Crest. She laughed. “Yeah, it’s pretty fucking hot out there. Desert and all, you know? Phoenix isn’t named after a fire bird because it’s temperatures are balmy.” She kept a more lighthearted disposition, adjusting in her seat more comfortably. “You from Tennessee? Uh, I like it well enough. It’s... I like it a lot better than I thought I would.” She’d stuck around, hadn’t she? She had people here, now. And it wasn’t like she could go home. “Tips… tips… Let me think… Don’t fuck with the mimes.”

“I’ve heard lots about small towns,” Raina said as she wiped her brow with the back of her free hand. She continued to scrub at another coffee ring on a different table, this one more stubborn than the last. “Guess I’ll just have to put on my best manners ‘an show everyone that I mean well.” She knew that newcomers could scare others off. That was the last thing she wanted to do. How was she supposed to find other people like her if she ran them off instead before she could even have the discussion? “Ah, right, right.” Raina nodded. “I heard the road melts. The houses, too?” She wasn’t sure if that was true, but she thought she’d seen it on the news. It was hard to tell what was a meme and what was real nowadays. “Sure am. Born and raised in Knoxville. Big enough place that not everyone is in your business, but small enough to meet someone’s family member twice removed on a trip to the grocery store.” Not that she ever had that problem. Her family wasn’t from Knoxville. A pang of homesickness hit her and she took a deep breath before moving onto the next table. “Mimes?” She laughed. She’d seen the warnings online, but wasn’t sure what to do with them. “Tell me, they hurt people with their fake boxes and goin’ downstairs routines?”

“I believe in you,” Nadia said, and she did. The woman in front of her seemed endlessly pleasant and kind. Nadia could feel it. She laughed. She felt lighter. It was easier to eat some of the muffin, the food not sticking in her throat as bad. “Nah, the roads and the houses don’t melt. Though, I’ve cooked eggs on the sidewalk before. Knoxville sounds nice, though. Phoenix is one of the biggest cities in the country. Sometimes, I didn’t even recognize my neighbors. Of course, I kept to myself a lot.” In college, the only person she’d really talked to was her roommate, Brooke, and whoever Brooke dragged in and out of her life. And that had been nice, and the thoughts of it hurt her less, now. She could remember them with fondness without the bitterness, even if questions would always linger. “Dolly Parton from anywhere near there?” she asked, genuinely curious. She didn’t know shit about Tennessee. She raised an eyebrow, and kept her tone light. She fucking hated the mimes, but it was best not to come off too strong. “Nah, they’ll just shoot you.”

Raina was glad that the customer-- no, the woman! She was her own person, not just somebody who was feeding into the capitalistic society (or coffee culture). She raised a brow. “Oh, really? I swear I thought houses melted…” Raina shrugged, “Guess I was wrong. Interesting about the egg thing. You didn’t eat ‘em, did ya?” Even if the woman had, Raina wouldn’t judge. “I guess that’s one story to tell to people.” Raina finally knocked out the stain and moved to the next table, which was closest to where the woman sat. The table offered little resistance to her cleaning efforts. She set the rag down for a moment once the customer asked about Dolly Parton. “Oh, yes.” She let out a laugh. “Even if you ain’t a Dolly Parton fan, you’re a Dolly fan in Tennessee.” Her own mother who’d sworn off country music even listened to her. The older Raina got, the more she felt like she could appreciate the woman, too. “Are you a fan?” She asked with a smile. Raina picked the rag back up and moved onto the next table. “Shoot you, huh?” She hummed, “well I’ll keep that in mind.” She wasn’t sure if the woman was being truthful or not. Maybe she was. Raina straightened up after she had cleaned every table but the one the woman was sitting at. “You don’t mind me askin’ your name, do you? Feels weird to think of you as someone I’m servin’ coffee when we’re havin’ such a nice conversation ‘an all.”

“We’ve gotten pretty good about building our houses with materials that don’t melt,” Nadia explained. “It wouldn’t do to have melted houses everytime the thermostat hits Fahrenheit 451. Okay, not really. More like Fahrenheit 115. When it’s, like, fucking miserable out.” So hot that heat came off the ground in waves. So hot that it was impossible to go outside without shoes on. Nadia missed the heat, but, damn, it was dangerous. Still didn’t melt houses, though. Not that she’d been aware of, at least. “I mean, I put them in a pan, and it was really just to see if it could happen. My roommate at the time ate them, though. She said I should have added more pepper.” And not cooked them in the sun, but, hey. It was a fun experiment between two people that weren’t particularly scientifically inclined. She grinned, enjoying the other woman’s lightheartedness. “Makes sense. You know, I’m more of a rock kinda gal, but I think it’s a fucking sin not to be a fan of Dolly, you know?” She could feel the other woman’s skepticism, and Nadia sighed. She rolled up her sleeve, exposing the scar from when her doppleganger mime had shot her last year. “They like to shoot people, too, apparently.” She put her sleeve back down and gave a wry grin. “My name’s Nadia. And you? I’d hate to keep referring to you as the super chill barista in my head, too.”

Raina leaned against the neighboring table, wincing slightly as it began to make a small screeching noise from her weight as it moved against the floor. “Sorry ‘bout that.” She pulled it back into its original spot and stood up straight. “That sounds downright miserable. Now I know y’all have dry heat as opposed to humidity… not sure which I’d rather battle.” Maybe one day she’d be able to figure out how to pull water right out of the air. Maybe when her magic was stronger. When she was stronger. She wouldn’t be able to do that in a place like Arizona, she realized. Yeah, definitely not moving out west anytime soon-- at least, not to any deserts. “Well, I guess that brings a new meaning to the term sunny side up, don’t it?” She flashed the woman a smile before she folded the rag in on itself. “I’ll be honest, I don’t listen to much music. When I do, it’s all Top 40.” She cracked an embarrassed smile. “Mostly ‘cause I listen to a lot of what my momma and daddy did, you know?” she looked down at her feet. It’d been awhile since she’d listened to her mom sing trot, or since she’d watch her dad play out the drum solos in the air from Phil Collins’ greatest hits album. She felt a sudden wave of sadness. Raina cleared her throat, immediately eradicating the feeling. It was fleeting, but there was a heaviness in her chest. “Oh, you’re tellin me--” She was pulled from her thoughts as she was shown the scar on her arm. She blinked a few times, trying to understand why a mime could ever want to do that before she looked up to meet Nadia’s eyes. “Oh! Nadia!” She smiled at her descriptor being a super chill barista, even if she couldn’t take her eyes off of the scar. “M’name is Raina!” She looked down at her nametag, which she only now noticed was missing. “Nadia’s a pretty name,” She sounded it out again, “Sounds like you should be in some storybook, I dunno.” She cracked a smile, though the stab wound was still on her mind.

“Personally, I always preferred the dry heat. Easier to breathe, that way,” Nadia said. Though… Maine’s humidity and more temperate climate was growing on her. Maybe it had more to do with the people than the place, though. White Crest? She could take it or leave it. It was as fascinating to live in as it was dangerous, two sides to the same coin. She laughed at the joke, genuinely pleased by the pun. “Totally new meaning to sunny side up, for sure.” She took a bite of her muffin, chased it with a sip of coffee. She was enjoying this, genuinely. She needed to get out more, Nadia realized. At the very least so that she could have interactions like this, something that wasn’t all in her head. Her head wasn’t the most fun place to be, sometimes. “Nothing wrong with listening to the popular stuff. It’s popular for a reason, you know?” There was a wave of sadness that followed that, though, in the aftermath of the other woman mentioning her mother and father, and it caused Nadia to think of her own parents. Their disdain for her. The way her mother had told her to never call back or she’d tell the cops. She managed a smile, though, as they rocketed through another few waves of emotions, of confusement and happiness, and concerne. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to show off the scar, but it’d been what she’d done in the moment. Live and learn. Not everyone was as fascinated in scars as others. “Nice to meet you, Raina.” She laughed. “I don’t know about a storybook.” Maybe a horror movie. “I did study a lot of folklore and fairytales in college, though.”

Raina tried to push the scar from her mind. It was silly to focus on something like that. Yes, maybe Nadia had been attacked by an angry mime, but that didn’t mean they were all bad. Her altercation with the thing in the alleyway alongside Irene sent shivers down her spine and she decided to push the thought of mimes, or mime-esque things far from her mind. Maybe it was for the better, the witch thought-- the warnings that these individuals came in tow with. “Well,” The brunette laughed, “see! You’re already part of the way there!” Raina looked down at the chair across from Nadia and contemplated slipping into it, but decided against it at the last moment. Instead, she busied herself with scrubbing another table. Maybe she had missed something. It wasn’t polite to bother customers as long as she had been. “I went to school for art. One of our projects was to illustrate a children’s book…” She lazily dragged the rag against the tabletop, “that mighta gone mighty well with whatever you were studyin!” She grinned at her before folding the rag up again. She was having a nice time talking to Nadia. It wasn’t often that the patrons who came into Coffee Plus humored her with conversation. If they did, they were usually overtly rude. “Which one’s your favorite?” Raina asked as an afterthought, shuffling between the chairs as she went back to the counter to put the rag in the bin and wash her hands.

“Oh, yeah, sure. Studying the Tuatha De Danann practically makes me a Disney princess,” Nadia said, but there was no bite to her words, and she smiled as she said them. She looked at Raina, at the way she’d hesitated near the chair across from Nadia, contemplating something (sitting, probably), before she decided against it and started back to her work. “Art, huh? That sounds nice. What kind of children’s book did you illustrate?” She laughed. “I don’t know how well it would have gone with some of my research, though, unfortunately. Not children’s illustrations, at least. Sometimes fairytales aren’t as gentle as cartoons want you to believe.” This town was proof of that, too. “Favorite?” she murmured. “Damn, I think I was asked that recently, too… It’s hard to choose. Like picking a favorite kid or something.” She thought about it again. “There’s a story called ‘East of the Sun, West of the Moon.’ It’s Norwegian. Kind of like ‘Beauty and the Beast’ or the myth of Cupid and Psyche. There’s a prince in disguise, and trials, and a happy ending. Sometimes those are kind of rare, surprisingly. It’s good, though. A different take on the usual.” Watching as the other woman went and washed her hands, Nadia waited for her to look back up before she toed at the chair across from her, pushing it away from the table. “You know, if you wanna sit, at least until someone else comes in, I wouldn’t mind the company.” The other woman was nice to be around. Her emotions were nice, pleasant. “I don’t suppose you’re also interested in obscure fairytales?”

Raina smiled at the woman from across the way and scrubbed the soap in between her fingers. The witch wrinkled her nose as the citrus-y scent lifted to her nostrils. “It was a project of sorts. We all got a few pages, then it was compiled into this bigger book kinda thing.” She smiled fondly as she recalled said project. She had included her little family, including her aunt, as background characters. She still had a copy of the book back at her apartment-- unable to part with it prior to her move to White Crest. “Well, of ‘course not. It ain’t all butterflies, but I think that’s what makes ‘em interesting. Ain’t about bein black ‘n white, but it’s nice when they have happy endings.” She remembered playing princess of the castle with her father-- cardboard boxes made into extravagant towers, her stuffed animals being that of her subjects. Raina decided not to focus on the sadness that was eager to sweep through her at the memory. No, she’d remember those moments for what they were. “That sounds good, I’ll have to look it up.” She meant it when she said it. She tucked it away for later, deciding that once Nadia left, she’d get on her phone and do her own research. Finally, she turned the water off and dried her hands on a clean towel. When Nadia offered the chair across from her, she let her smile grow a little wider. “Wasn’t sure if you’d get all weirded out by your barista tryna kick it with you or not.” Raina crossed the distance between them and delicately placed herself into the chair, doing her best to avoid smacking limbs against either the chair or the table. “Not so much obscure as just havin’ really been into princesses and all that while growin’ up,” Raina admitted with a laugh. She folded her hands in her lap and thought for a moment, “I only really liked it when good things happened, but there were a few that are… a little more sinister that my mama would tell me.” The fond smile stayed pinned to her features as she let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. “I know a few Korean ones, too.”

“That sounds kinda fun, an illustration project,” Nadia said. “Gotta admit, most of the stuff I remember doing were less projects and more papers. Buncha shit on, like, meaning and theme and literary analysis. I can dissect a sentence in a poem and tell you what I think the author’s trying to convey with punctuation, but I can’t draw stick figures to save my life.” Handwriting? Sure, hers was decent when she didn’t rush it. Art just wasn’t her thing. Nadia could appreciate it, though. “You’re right, of course. I’ve been bigger into the happy endings, lately. Kinda dig them, actually.” Nadia could use a few more happy endings in her life. Monster gets vanquished, protagonist gets peace. She liked that. She kind of wanted that. “You’ll have to tell me what you think of it.” She smiled, pleased when Raina sat down in front of her. She liked being able to have a nice conversation. “Trust me, nothing weird about having good company. But, yeah, I really like princesses when I was little, too. Though, I also had an unhealthy obsession with the Brothers Grimm. Kinda dark, not really for children. I liked them, though.” She’d like a lot of things she probably shouldn’t have. Nadia’s smile echoed Raina’s. “Yeah? I read the ones my ma didn’t tell me.” And she was interested, leaning forward, eyes bright. “Really? Any you’d be interested in sharing?”

Raina had her fair share of papers, too. She never liked them much, the words always getting jumbled. She’d never been much of a reader, more of a listener. “Sounds like you had your work cut out for you,” The witch smiled. “Writin’ all those papers and whatnot.” She shook her head. “Glad I don’t ever hav’ta look at another report again-- not workin’ here, at least.” She hummed at Nadia’s admission of not being able to draw. “I know you probably get this a lot, but it just takes a bit of practice. Anythin’ is art if you really want it to be.” She should’ve made herself her one of three free drinks. She decided she’d do it later once Nadia had left. “Brothers Grimm?” She tilted her head to the side, “I sometimes forget that Disney really just walked on in and ripped the stories from their original aspects ‘an made everything flowery.” Raina twiddled her thumbs, “but I s’pose that’s what a general audience wants, y’know?” She didn’t know much about what people wanted, but she did know that Tangled was one of her favorite Disney films while the actual story of Rumpelstiltskin was terrifying. Nadia’s interest made Raina’s ears burn. What if she recalled them wrong? It’d been so long since she’d heard them, or read them. She cleared her throat. “Well, there’s one ‘bout a fox, ‘bout how a family wanted-- or, more specifically, a father wanted a daughter, even if she was a fox.” She thought for a moment, doing her best to recall the details of the story her mother had told her, “They got a girl, but in the night, their livestock would start goin’ missing… and each time a brother would go out and report her to their father.” She tapped her fingers, tracing out the words her mother had said to her on the back of her hand as she tried to pull the story from memory, “And each time, the father’d kick the boys out and say it wasn’t happenin. Finally, a few years had passed ‘an two of the brothers came back ‘round… only to find that their family was gone. All but the sister. She ended up eatin’ her brothers, claimin’ that it’d make her human.” She nodded, “I think that was all of it-- I might’ve missed a few points, seein’ as I haven’t heard it in awhile.” She let out a soft laugh. “Pretty gruesome, I think.”

“It was interesting, for sure,” Nadia said. “I always kind of liked writing papers. I like words, language, the way that sentences flow when time and care is taken to putting them together. I’m, like, a lot better at writing than I am talking.” She laughed. “I don’t know, you’ve got to write down people’s orders, right? I bet that, for some people, that’s practically a research paper in length. Four pumps of vanilla, three pumps of caramel, two packets of Splenda, whipped cream on the side, shake, not stirred. All that shit.” She’d been told plenty of times that she just had to practice to get better at drawing, but she… didn’t have the patience for it. Or maybe she didn’t and just didn’t want to apply herself. “I might just, like, stick to writing, maybe. I’m sure you’re much better at the whole visual art thing. But yeah! The Brothers Grimm kind of gathered and compiled a lot of fairytales that we know of today. Snow White, Rapunzel. Sleeping Beauty. They compiled them together in a collection of several hundred ‘household’ tales. They weren’t really for children, though.” They were warnings, a lot of them, stories to keep people in line, stories to tell how things became the way that they are. Nadia listened with interest as Raina told her tale, remembering the details and filing them away for later. “Sometimes, there doesn’t really seem to be a point to stories. If I remember correctly, there was a story about a young girl that was being chased by a witch and got turned into a lake somehow. From what I remember, the witch ended up drinking her. For the life of me, I can’t remember the moral of that one. Grim and gruesome seems to be the way a lot of folk tales go.”

Raina was grateful for storytelling. It brought people together. At least, for the most part it did. She had to look at the conversation that she and Nadia were now having because of this. It made her feel good that she had successfully gotten somebody to speak to her for longer than two minutes. She knew that her too-sweet optimism could be a lot for most people, and though for the most part Raina was actually shy, those were moments where she knew she was being looked down upon. When it came to people who actually wanted something to do with her, she flourished. “Rapunzel, I think-- I really liked that one.” She smoothed her apron down as it curved around her knees. “Not a huge fan of the original though, too... “ Her expression pinched, “much, I think.” She looked towards the door as a customer shouldered through and looked at the counter, their face screwed in confusion. “Ah, dang. Looks like we’re cuttin’ short.” She looked at Nadia with a small smile before getting out of her seat. “Stick ‘round, if you want. Or, I mean-- Only if you want, no pressure or nothin’, just been lovely talkin’ to the not-so-locals, but also locals, y’know?” She hurried toward the counter and began to take the customer’s order, feeling light on her feet. Maybe everything that had happened in White Crest so far had led her to moments with those she might be able to consider friends, or at the very least, people who’d sit down and have a chat.

[cloveroctobers]

ELLADINE SARABI

IG info/bio: @/ellasardineabi | 18.5k followers | Artist | i was born with glass bones and paper skin♡

25 years old

Born & raised in Cardiff, Wales 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿

Father was in the n*vy and moved his family around a few times until he and his wife came to a agreement that it would be best for the family to grow up in one solid place

whereas he would leave for months at a time living elsewhere

Which was hard on the family at times since he is viewed as the rock of the family

He eventually left the n*vy after serving 20 years & was so thankful to, he hated it and how it messed with him mentally

He’s also of Iranian heritage

Her mother is of German heritage

Has her own restaurant that serves authentic German food

Both of her parents instilled hard work, discipline, generosity, and how to be practical in their children

Elladine is the middle child

Has a brother that is ten years older than her and then a younger sister who is seven years behind her

Canon: there is currently a discussion going on if they are going to bring their (maternal) nan/mam-gu home since the nursing home isn’t providing the proper care their nan needs

Her mother has a rocky relationship with her mother that she doesn’t like to discuss with her children but her husband knows all about it

Her nan has Alzheimer's and is becoming violent

it has become difficult seeing her most days

Elladine came into glassblowing after being involved in many classes in secondary such as workshop class

which became her fav since she was able to manipulate many materials such as metal, wood, and glass

She also took a auto body class which was interesting but she wasn’t too thrilled about it. Got away with a B- but knew she could do better if she really wanted to but she didn’t need the class to graduate so allow it

Currently works in a glass studio where her work is displayed/sold and she’s one of the main ones that makes great profit

has bought her own space for her own studio and is slowly making it to her liking with her assistant, yes she’s got one!

Hopes to be in that space within the next 6 months...it would have been a little sooner if we weren’t dealing with a global p*ndemic!!! but ya know life f*cking sucks sometimes!!!1!!:) especially if people don’t gaf

Moved back in with her parents so that she could not only help with her nan but get her studio ready, her parents approved since she was working towards something and realized her talent

I definitely see elladine going through a grunge phase and it probably still slips out every now and then lol

Her childhood room is still in shades of raspberry, gray, and a deep purple

always been plus-sized/fuller than the rest but it’s literally hereditary since her mom is built the same way who got it from her dad

Her family never made her feel ashamed as they shouldn’t and none of her true friends made her feel different since they were all of different sizes!!! besides who’s really friends with someone because of their bodies? Ur really ugly if that’s how u roll js

Always a respectful student and not too afraid to spark up a convo with you but can be a little nervous if the person is more of a “I have to warm up to you first” since she’ll feel like she’s annoying you if she carries the convo at first

Takes her time in relationships because she’s scared of getting hurt, cause breakups are not fun! Especially if theyre your friend on top of that

Although Friendship breakups are much worse let’s be honest here!!!

Has noticed that a few of her exes like to bring up that she’s controlling or too bossy in relationships and that makes her a little insecure since she doesn’t view it that way??

She knows what she wants and likes things a certain way, and she can see how it can kinda come off that way based on how she approaches/says things and tries to be better at toning it down and not being offensive to her significant others

Always has a plan and likes to follow it, she definitely keeps to-do lists on a daily

Takes trips to see Nicky often and vice-versa, every moment they spend together feels like it’s meant to be, even when it’s them just simply chilling in each other’s spaces, he’s truly one of her best friends and he feels like the missing part of her life

He offered for her to move in with him but elladine didn’t accept it since she wanted to be there to help with her nan and in fact—she wanted to be the one to ask HIM to move in with her

but if they make it long enough, they’ll go house hunting together...maybe

I get Shawn/Angela relationship vibes from them (boy meets world for those who aren’t aware of this couple and I’m not just saying this because they’re interracial as well lol) did I say this already about someone else? Brain fart lol

everyone relationship has their flaws so when they hit a bump in the road...elladine immediately wants to fix it but it comes off as more critiquing, moodiness/blaming the other

while Nicky can be defensive/argumentive/a little condescending on his end

To get through it, they normally go on a walk together in complete silence until they’re ready to speak again or they take a break from each other

I think words of affirmation is her love language

Taurus sun + Virgo moon + Capricorn rising?

“The girl on the motorcycle” is one of her fav films — no this is not metaphoric to her love life

Loves watching things with captions on since she always finds herself doing something else while watching anything (which irks Nicky a little bit but that’s just the way elladine is and he loves her so he deals with it)

Will rewind something if she missed it too

Canon: never had morning sex before

but can now say she has ;) & understands the pros people say about it and it outweighs the cons in her book

Will start the whole song over too if she missed her fav part in it

She also enjoys billiards since her brother used to work in a pool hall and when he had to watch her because she was “too young” in her words to stay home by herself he would take her there even tho technically she wasn’t supposed to be there but he was screwing his boss’s daughter so it was quite fine

her sister has a crush on Gary & ships elladine with him, which they joke about every now and then + he doesn’t follow her back, which is okay! Not a big deal but her sister keeps sliding in his dms (he’s now single)

She NEVER thought she would be on THE love island and wasn’t that confident that she’d find a real love that carried on outside of the show but Nicky has proven her wrong 🥲

She’s 5’5–5’6

Probably shops at Zara & top shop and has no issue picking pieces that flatter her “pear” figure, she loves all that is of her body: the pudge, love handles, cellulite and all (she’s very confident and won’t let anyone see her moments of doubt when it comes to her frame)

Loves mythology but will tell bill stfu if he comes near her trying to argue about anything in that subject

Very competitive and will rush through certain things, leaving one to think that she’ll fail somewhere but rarely does

If she’s not near or away from the mountains or the sea for long period of time she gets very moody!!! Guess that’s the Welsh in her huh?

Loves fireplaces, they’re super cozy and very romantic if you catch ella’s drift 😏

Probably smells like jasmine & pink pepper idk

Wants to travel to Iceland one day

Knows her way around a car but dreads having to get it fixed or fixing it herself?

Loves driving until her road rage kicks in? Oh you’re gonna go around her to get in front of her? Never that. She’ll always be in front of you and will break check you if you try her “Drewgi” she mutters

Early riser and goes to bed early too lol

She’s the crying drunk lmao

Automatically vieve has become one of her best friends from the villa but it deff didn’t feel forced like it normally would have just because their bfs have a podcast together, they talk about everything together. EVERYTHING! It feels like she’s the big sister she never had, yet they’re only a year apart lol

They have ft sleepovers and man is it fun!

Forgave lily but at the same time can’t fully see herself being friends with her like vieve tried to encourage before they went on the yacht...sorry everything can’t be Kumbaya over here sis

It sucks to say but it was easier? She doesn’t know if that’s the right term or not... for her to forgive rafi than it was lily and it’s fucked up but that’s the way it is. It’s not like she contacts him on seperate messages or anything like that! She’ll talk to him via group chat and that’s pretty much it. She knows it was all part of the show and production’s bs for ratings but that doesn’t mean it still didn’t hurt

Wishes him success on his shows/movies but doesn’t engage/watch them

What does she post? I feel like she posts maybe three times a month and a lot are outfit pics but tends to go live more so to chat with the people! She’ll also show all what glassblowing entails while chatting away! She loves that part and is pretty open about things but knows how to keep some things private

Personally wasn’t the biggest fan of season 1 but admits she wishes she had mc’s balls in terms of what she would have done if she was in elladine’s place when lily picked Nicky, “ugh! I wish I had her strength rising through my veins in that moment. Absolute riot. Adore her.”

‘“Licky” is a ugly ass ship name anyways so who’s really winning here?!’

Celeb crushes? Iwan Rheon, Henry Zaga, Anthony Welsh, jason derulo, & LaRoyce Hawkins

Listens to: soleima, Marisa Maino, Ava Max, poppy, Caroline polachek, Donny Hathaway, Phil Good, & SAINt JHN

Anthem — M.I.A. “Bad Girls”

[coffeewreckedkeyboard]

childish fears

hetalia, nordic 5, no pairing, hinted at iceliecht. country & human names used.

in which norway and iceland have a brother conversation when the lights go out.

“Remember how you used to be afraid of the dark?” Sigurd drones out as he works to light the candles he had around his house. It had been storming all day and only worsened throughout the day, much to Egill’s annoyance. It only meant he was stuck inside with his older brother for way too long when he itched to just be outside. He doesn’t hate the other, but finds him insufferable after awhile. Not to mention how embarrassing he can be — especially around Lili, a girl he finds really pretty but can never work up the nerve to actually talk to her. The best interaction they had was wen she told him Mr. Puffin was cute and asked to pet him. “Ya used to come to me at night, crying because you heard something. It was almost always a Fae.”

“I was a kid!” Egill tries to not raise his voice. God, he hates thinking about those days. Unlike the old people he’s lumped with — and sure, he sometimes takes in pride that he’s Nordic — he tries to keep up with the coming times. “And ‘sides, ‘m no longer afraid of the dark now. It’s childish.” Last thing he wants is his older brother thinking he’s still a child.

“Yeah,” Sigurd’s voice holds mirth to it. “You’re no longer afraid the dark now, even though you did panic when the lights went out.”

“It was unexpected!”

“Sure,” Sigurd agrees with a light nod of his head. In the candle light, his face glows light with orange. “Your biggest fears now are talkin’ t’ girls, I guess.”

“I’m not afraid to talk to girls! I talk to Michelle daily!”

“That Seychelles girl?” Sigurd prompts and Egill realizes that his brother had just baited him into talking about his daily life, something he desperately tried to keep from everyone else — except for the occasional text to Sweden, asking for advice and claiming it was for a friend and definitely not for himself. “I see you hanging around her and Hong Kong frequently.”

“Yeah, because we’re friends,” Egill says, huffily. “It’s what friends do. Don’t you spend time with Berwald and Søren?”

Sigurd hums a little. “I do,” he says with a little nod. “We go campin’ sometimes. I don’t see the point in your question.”

“I was just pointing out that friends hang out! ‘S why I spend time with them!”

“Certainly,” Sigurd taps the table and Egill looks around. He feels guilty for getting defensive, but his brother has always had a roundabout way of asking him things, prying into his life, and generally just being there. Most would be thrilled with such a thing, and there are days where he is grateful and it’s not like he hates him, but he always feels less independent when Sigurd acts like Sigurd. And compared to the rest of them, he always feels like a child in general and he hates that.

His eyes fall on an old, framed piece of parchment. There is a picture crudely drawn in the ink that was available at the time and he looks down at his lap. He’d drawn that when he was still a kid — it was supposed to be of him and Norway, and the scribbles were meant to be letters but he didn’t know how to quite write at the time. There were other things around his house from his years of living, an old sword perched on his wall from his glory years as a viking, old books written in Old Norse, and so many other things. His age shows, the way his older brother must feel ancient.

“You can always talk t’ me, ya know?” Sigurd finally says. “’Bout your crush on Lili, what you’re up to, I just wanna talk.”

“’S embarrassing.”

“Can’t be anymore embarrassin’ than watchin’ Denmark hit on an intern at the UN and getting quickly rejected, in front of his own boss too,” Egill grins at that. He remembers watching that and he wanted to step in and say something, but Sigurd is an asshole and told him to watch. The rejection was kind enough but it must have felt humiliating, especially in front of his boss. They had shared a little laugh later but he was told to just not be like Denmark. “An’ rejection jus’ happens.”

“I can’t talk to her,” Iceland says, face turning red. “She’s too pretty.”

“Isn’t Seychelles?”

“Yes! But she’s not like — Lili?” He’s not sure how to explain it. Seychelles is his friend and that’s how it’s different. And besides, as far as Egill knows, Seychelles isn’t into guys. It’s stupid he’s so intimidated. “They’re just different!” He can’t help but feel exasperation. There’s no way to tell Norway how they’re different without spilling any more secrets.

“Ya want my advice?”

“If you must give it,” Egill answers, blandly and bitterly.

“’Kay,” Sigurd leans in, his blue eyes intense as he stares at him in the eyes. “Quit worryin’.”

“What kind of brotherly advice is that?” If there’s anything he can give his brother credit for, it’s how blunt he can be. He’s envious of it as Egill always fumbles to come up with answers that won’t really hurt people’s feelings, even if he knows they can take an honest answer. He even dances around with Denmark, whose feelings are the hardest to hurt.

“The best kind,” Sigurd answers. “If she likes ya, she likes ya. If she doesn’t, that’s okay too. ‘Sides, it won’t be the end of th’ world. Jus’ don’t ask her out in front of Switzerland, yeah? That’d suck.”

“I guess,” Egill mumbles. They lapse into silence yet again. “Uh. Thanks.”

“For what?”

“Talking to me?” Egill doesn’t know what to say but Sigurd shrugs.

“’M your brother,” he says as he reaches across the small table and lightly pokes him in the forehead. “’M supposed to help you. Now, I’m going to order delivery because I don’t think the electricity is gonna come on any time soon. What do you want?”

“Pizza,” Egill says as he watches Sigurd get up.

“Good choice.”

[memnonofarcadia]

Remembering Joey Bruno

Originally published in the Sacramento Jazz & Blues Quarterly Bedtime is sometime around dawn. Dinner is usually whatever you want it to be. Shall we go to Iceland? Festivals, fliers, wristbands, Sharpies on skin, smoke, grass, hash, molasses, sky, blue, crisp, clear sky. And yet I’m still writing all this within a grey airport terminal, locked into some kind of strange Druid-esque ritual with pen and paper. Deadline is tomorrow, where were you when you were supposed to be working? Don’t have any answers for now, just that I need to write and get it out to my boss within the next day. Or two. It wouldn’t have been the first deadline blown. But think, distract myself with the McDonald’s coffee and keep putting down adjectives and phrases from places I’ve been, things I’d seen, dreams I’d never have again with people I’ve never met and music I had. 40 minutes till boarding starts, I’ll be last, of course. It pays enough to fly but not enough to enjoy it. Been getting harder and harder to deal with the travel, at any rate. Starting to notice the spell everyone is under, the sleepwalking nature of the corporate employee. It had only been noticeable after it had been broken, which I had no problem doing, ever. When your home is a hotel you take your shots however you can get them, besides it wasn’t like you have to live in any particular town past a few days at most. Half-heartedly started keeping a list of rejections and their professions, making sure to note that there was only one waitress on the list, most were from bookstores or places where there was an escape for all parties. Don’t need to make it more awkward than it has to be. Sorry, I didn’t mean, then the words fade off into the ocean. On the edge of nowhere, like a little seaside town. Maybe that’s where I’d like to end up, like a lifeguard in the post-apocalypse, no responsibilities, just looking cool for the seagulls. How many life guards had I asked out? Not many, either way. Concerts didn’t go well with water, not in my experience. Can’t seem to find a way to write about anything other than something on the present times, life and times. I struggle, already flipped through the notebooks to jog the memory with some tit and tat that had to be discarded for the sake of length from another article. Or two. Or four. Or 12. Throwing yourself to the wolves, towards and into the meat grinder that one might just pay the bills with the right amount of ink in the right places on a blank piece of paper. Who cares about music festivals and pop culture when there’s McDonald’s coffee and the cold inside of an airplane to look forward to? Four times I’d attempted to ask about an airline attendant’s relationship status, thrice I’d been rejected. Once she’d pretended not to hear me and instead moved to the opposite end of the plane for the remainder or the flight. Understandable, no harm done. No harm done. By anyone, right? Who said this was ever going to be a love story, you and I?

College had been a breeze, not that I’m bragging. State schools were like that, at least then, and Californ-I-A’s were no different. No doubt now there’s better options available for where I was at when I had to decide where to go to school, but there you are. A degree in journalism is a degree in journalism, and I had little else to go on other than my love of music, substances, travel, female company, and a shocking talent at being able to string together sentences. In a way it’s always given me a bit of a guilty feeling. I never sat down and really worked at learning or improving with regards to writing, I just sort of could do it. That’s the short version of how I found my niche of a career, one I thought I could exploit anyway. Turns out I was right, and in a way it was everything I could (and did!) hope for. Except everybody’s got to grow up sometimes, and I did, regrettably. There’s only so many hungover mornings a human being can take before they’re permanently reduced to a shambling, sickly mess of what used to be a humanoid organism, and I had certainly put myself on that path. Got off of it, thanks to the countless AA meetings I made myself go to, but I digress. That had been the first mark on the wall of things that I could no longer enjoy about the gig, the fact that now I had to do the whole thing sober. The hardest substance I have confidence I can enjoy responsibly now is coffee, and even then the ugly demon of acid reflux put me back in my place before too long. Suddenly all the kids were much more annoying than usual, the travel a hassle, the food revolting, and the music itself just kind of bad, which was the real heartbreaker. Some days before it had been all to keep me going, minus the women, which were always a constant. “Festival sluts” is the term you’ll want to Google (or DuckDuckGo) if you’re curious about what I mean, also colloquially known as upper middle class girls whose parents were too busy working to devote anything past a friendly “hullo” to their children, and thus succeeded in raising a bunch of hedonistic, attention-desperate, and morally naïve young people with excess income and too much time to spend it all in. Nasty ain’t it? But it kept me coming back for more, like the good-natured animal that I am. We all are. That’s the secret that I learned more than anything from the beat, we are all more simple and pleasure driven than we could ever articulate or realize. It’s what keeps the lights on at home, for everything and anything. Probably. Or maybe I’m just bitter. Most of the friends I made during college or were colleagues in my escapades writing about indie rock et al. around the globe are gone now. Burnt out, some burnt up, most just couldn’t hack it anymore and left to go get real jobs at real newspapers. The circus, or pirate ship, as is probably more accurate a nomer, is not for everyone, and rarely does it last forever. Bet you’re wondering where that leaves me. Still bitter, but still coming back for more, just like I was always going to. Always. So why don’t I quit? You tell me. Because I know why.

The finest writer I ever met was a journalist by the name of Joey Bruno, a guy I came across one of the many late nights I spent at the pathetic office of my college’s newspaper. I was editing a freshman’s piece about how the White Album was actually really bad, sighing uncontrollably the whole time, when Mr. Bruno walked in and struck up a conversation with yours truly. I happily engaged, as any activity that didn’t involve that stupid piece of writing was fine by me. He explained that he was friends with the real Editor , who was at his parents’ in Wisconsin for the weekend, and would drop by periodically when he got off work to help out where he could. “Why spend your time working on bad writing by dumb college kids?” I’d asked him. “Free beer, plus it can be fun sometimes. There’s been plenty of stuff come through here that I rewrote beyond all recognition just for fun, and nine times out of ten the original author doesn’t even notice. Good times.” Maybe so, I’d thought. In any case every other Friday or thereabouts I’d get a late night revising buddy to help cull the newspaper’s intimidating stack of submissions. It was in those early morning hours that I came to the conclusion that I wanted to become a music journalist, mostly from talking to Mr. Bruno about his own adventures. But I don’t think I listened, not really. Maybe if I had I’d be off this conveyor belt by now, but then again maybe not. Maybe I’d never have started. One night in particular while we were enjoying our cigarettes, coffee, and beer (all courtesy of the newspaper of course), he retailed me with a story of his long lost love, a girl he’d known briefly in the California punk scene of the late 80s. I was instantly entranced. “It was a magical time,” he’d said to me while stroking his magnificent beard. “But I’m glad it’s over now. It was getting messy there at the end,” I brought up how those little parts of the world, at that time were being romanticized an awful lot in contemporary media then. “And for good reason, too.” He’d responded wistfully. “A lot of great things happened for a lot of good people. It was about as close to the 60s as anyone came since then, I think. That much hope,” And this is where he began to tell his story, the story of “the rebel known as ‘Justine,’” as he’d put it. However it had happened, the two had come into contact through the various zines they’d each produced and sent out to the other punks in town. The closest thing to an internet forum for back then was to just be louder than everyone else, apparently. That was the only real way to get heard, to start a dialogue of some kind. That or take your chances at the shows, which they did anyway, but there wasn’t much talking going on there. Joey had written to Justine complimenting her on “Pop!,” which was her way of pushing her radical politics and militant-feminist views out on to the unsuspecting public behind the thin-façade of a bubblegum periodical. The art had been good, and the writing made everyone Joe showed it to laugh out loud, so he made a point to let the author know, whoever they were. There was an address included in the back for people to write in, so he did just that. He also included a copy of his own creation, the somewhat popular (in those circles anyway) “Buzz ‘n’ Stuff.” “What was it about?” I asked as my friend rolled himself another cigarette. “Nothing really, I just sort of made stuff about interesting things I found at the library then slapped it together in that. It seemed to work. I remember the one I sent her had something about how to get popped bubblegum out of your hair without cutting it all off, so I think that’s what got her interested. There wasn’t anything of value or substance in there, let’s be real,” Joey took another swig of his beer and reached into the cooler below his desk for another, being sure to throw me one too like a sport. “Thanks, boss. But continue, you got me interested now,” So he did. It had started slowly, really, with the trading of zines and letters, the occasional patch or pin by mail too. Eventually after a lengthy correspondence they made a plan to meet up at a concert, The Vandals to be precise. Joey had taken painstaking measures to show up in the most hip clothing of the day, studded leather jacket, combat boots, the whole nine yards. “I looked like a freak,” he told me with a chuckle. “But then I saw her,” Justine had arrived looking like everything and nothing Joey had expected her to. She had the familiar punk gear, Doc Martins and an army jacket covered in patches and safety pins, but the rest of what she had on departed from the norm drastically. It had been some bizarre cross between a punk, hippy, and cult leader all in one, macabre golden jewelry offsetting the “meat is murder” t shirt underneath. “It was great,” said Joey. “People were afraid of her at that show. She looked really scary,” They hit it off and had a jolly old time watching The Vandals play, and later they found themselves alone on a hill overlooking the suburbs, talking about the issues and passing a joint back and forth. It was all music to my ears, as it would be for most any young person, I suspect. “Tell me more,” I’d implored. These were fantasies that I needed fulfilled. Joey paused and rocked back and forth in his chair contently for a few seconds before he complied. My heart sank before he spoke. “We were inseparable after that first time. It really was something. We could go anywhere, do anything, and we would always end up on the same page somehow. It was easily the deepest spiritual, emotional, whatever you want to call it connection I’ve ever had with another human being, let alone girlfriend. But then a year or two later her Mom moved her and her brother up to Connecticut to be closer to the rest of their family. Last I heard she went to school in Maine, but that was it as far as we were concerned. Finito,” He smiled through all this as though recalling some rosy-cheeked memory but I was aghast. “What do you mean that’s it? You didn’t try to follow her or anything?” Joey just laughed. “Yeah, that was really an option at 17 without a car or money. It was just something that happened when we were kids, nothing really. I’m glad it happened at all, now.” Well then. What do you make of that? The conversation drifted pretty heavily after that point, as it always did when Joey and I got to jabbering and drinking, and as usual it was stories of the times he’d been on tour years later with Ozzy Osbourne or The Stooges or someone, then got to interview them endlessly and write about it. The usual vices were there as well in his stories, the drugs, the travel, the women, the glamor, the romance. But it all left pretty quickly once the novelty wore off, hence why Joey had quit after a few years and moved back home to Sacramento. When I knew him at the college newspaper he was a jazz correspondent, if you can wrap your head around that, for several of the snootier publications in the area. “I skipped to the fun part,” he told me. “The shows never get old, now. Plus jazz cats have the best shit,” he said with a wink. I probably just laughed, I don’t know, maybe downed the rest of my beer. I’ll be bound to have another once I get on the plane, off to Finland this time. Apparently it’s festival season in Scandinavia and its surrounding territories. Guess I’ll be writing about that all then though, from a different airport terminal that looks just like this one, with coffee and food and cigarettes and beer that shortens the life as much as the ones that came before. I could go on, but I won’t, for both our sake. There’s no moral to be gleaned from all this just a simple explanation of the reality, and how I’m passing the time in the airport by writing this, because I said I would. I promised. It’s my group now, and I have to go.

[x--daughters-of-darkness--x]

Delain Hopes to Empower Fans, Not Burn Bridges, With New Album 'Apocalypse & Chill'

Singer Charlotte Wessels doesn’t want to "underestimate" the Dutch metal act's followers by telling them what to think.

Throughout their career, Dutch rockers Delain have espoused a melodic, larger-than-life sound meant to inspire and empower their fans, even when tackling somber subject matter. Their sixth album, Apocalypse & Chill (Feb. 7, Napalm Records), is no exception -- although given the topsy-turvy state of the world, there is an underlying tension and shades of darkness that imbue the album with a greater weightiness lyrically and musically.

“There’s more heaviness, but there’s also more softness,” offers composer-keyboardist-producer Martijn Westerholt. “I think that’s the good trade from this album. It’s very diverse and very intense.”

Apocalypse & Chill’s title was inspired by the contrast between the album’s love songs and those on the set that feel apocalyptic and dystopian. “It’s kind of a mirror to the world these days: all the ‘perfection’ on social media married with the world being on fire,” says composer-lyricist-singer Charlotte Wessels. “It’s very much about the zeitgeist. I thought the wordplay on ‘Netflix and chill’ conveyed [life] today.”

Even though romantic sentiments and fantasy imagery have permeated much of Delain’s work, the symphonic metal quintet -- which also includes guitarist Timo Somers, bassist Otto Schimmelpenninck van der Oije and drummer Joey de Boer -- has explored many other themes. “Generation Me” from 2012’s We Are the Others tackled social media narcissism, while that album's title track was written about the brutal 2007 murder of British girl Sophie Lancaster and her boyfriend. (They were targeted because of their goth attire.) And the overarching theme on Delain’s last full-length album, 2016’s Moonbathers, was death itself. (So far, the band’s catalog has earned 28.7 million on-demand streams, according to Nielsen Music/MRC Data, and has appeared on such Billboard charts as Heatseekers Albums, where both Moonbathers and 2019’s Hunter’s Moon peaked at No. 5.)

Apocalypse & Chill is a bit different, but not out of character. While the video for lead single “Burning Bridges” reflects the agitated state of the world, it comes across as more socially conscious than overtly political.

“We’ve never really tried to do that,” asserts Wessels. “You write about the things that go on in your head, and you write about emotion. If you look at the world today, it’s hard to not write about it. But you don’t want to underestimate your listeners by telling them what to think. Usually, if a situation works itself into a song, then people listen to that. Sometimes that’s enough because in the end, people can do the math for themselves and can make their own decisions about ethics and morals and complicated topics of ecology and social issues.”

Meanwhile, the singer says that track “Let’s Dance” is about “a doomsday rave,” and remarks, “I hope we’re not there yet. Hopefully, it will make you think.” Another like-minded song is “Legions of the Lost,” which preaches about economic inequality and political deception without pointing fingers or naming names.

The video for “Burning Bridges” was shot amid the mountains of the Snowdonia National Park in Wales by U.K.-based company Video Ink, which created the 2019 clip for “Masters of Destiny” in Iceland. Delain has been very pleased with its Video Ink collaborations, which also have yielded the recent live performance/lyric video for “One Second” and the brand-new “Ghost House Heart.”

The concept for “Burning Bridges” came from the lyrical theme, “talking about the protagonist who’s going from place to place, trying to escape negative energies,” says Wessels. “But they keep sticking to him. So at one point, the question is: Are these negative energies actually in your environment, or are you the one who’s causing them? Or do you need to resolve a conflict with yourself?... The guys from Video Ink took it to a whole new level with our little boy who is so unfortunate to be the protagonist in this story and causing mayhem wherever he goes.”

The video for “Ghost House Heart” is unusual in that it is the first time since the 2007 single “See Me in Shadow” from its 2006 debut, Lucidity, that Delain has released a ballad as a single and video. The group shot the new clip on rainy Friday the 13th in a dark, cold and allegedly haunted house in the heart of Liverpool, England. Westerholt loved the vibe of the location and the day. The video only features him and Wessels in the house intercut with moody shots of churning clouds and water.

Wessels says that “Ghost House Heart” developed out of a piano jam session with Westerholt, and it invokes many ideas in her mind’s eye -- desolation, dystopia, ice, snow and homesickness. “A key lyric for me is, ‘I live in the shadow of your love,’ so it’s reliving something that’s already been and knowing that you can’t return,” explains the singer. “It’s a small video, but it’s very much about the atmosphere and the emotions that the song conveys.”

One Apocalypse & Chill song that touches upon a very real-world issue is “Chemical Redemption,” which is Wessels’ mea culpa for her words in “Your Body Is a Battleground” from 2016’s The Human Contradiction. She was angered by seeing a lot of people who had received “the wrong medication or overmedication,” she recalls. “The lyrics in that one were very angry toward medicine in general and that [pharmaceutical] industry having too much power and [valuing] money over health. It was angry but not nuanced.”

Like any other performer, Wessels is used to being trolled by armchair critics, but this was the first time people commented negatively about her lyrics where she really took notice. A number of fans who relied on various types of medication on a daily basis were unhappy with how she had broached the topic.

“I felt really, really bad about it,” concedes Wessels. “I wrote most of them back personally: ‘I’m so sorry. It came from a place of anger, and I’m going to learn from this as a songwriter.’ I think I made peace with most of them. Ironically, I myself am depending on certain medication right now, and I thought it was good to do a follow-up [song]. All the nuance that I didn’t put into that track back then is put into this one, so this is the redemption song from my perspective. There are two sides to every story, and even in a medium where certain fiction and making things bigger is allowed, it’s still good to be nuanced when it’s about people’s personal lives and, in this case, people’s bodies.”

[starrystarrybabe]

Oh, How the Mighty Fall [In Love] CHAPTER TWO (Ben Hardy x OC)

CHAPTER ONE

Lily Anne Mercury is brought in to help with Bohemian Rhapsody at the request of her Uncle Bri and Uncle Rog, and along the way, she might meet someone to share her life with. The only problem with this is that while their friends and the world can see that they’re perfect for each other, they’re going to be fully blind to this for a while.

DISCLAIMER: I’m fully aware that it would’ve been physically impossible for Jim and Freddie to have a child even with this method during the time they were alive, but the idea of Freddie as a dad and the idea of how his child would turn out to be was just too sweet for me to not write. I’m also aware that I have 2 more fics in progress and I must make a masterlist, but as I’ve previously stated in other fic disclaimers, I am technologically challenged and quite overwhelmed at the moment. I apologize for this, because you all deserve the best from me, and it may take me a while to get to a place where I feel comfortable enough with the quality of everything to produce it. I do have a problem with being a perfectionist when it comes to my work, but I’m working on making that better.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol abuse, drug abuse, suicidal thoughts, etc.

This chapter is fairly heavy. It deals with very intense emotions.

I’m so thankful at the positive response I got to my post discussing how I was putting a pause on my other two fics to focus on this one, and I can’t even begin to explain how much your support means to me. I’m going through a lot right now, and it helps my mental health to write. In a lot of ways, it helps me to process my own emotions. Now, I’ve never OD’ed or lost a parent, but I have deeply hurt people who love me dearly, and I’m working on mending my relationship with both them and myself. I need to be kinder to myself, and not blame myself so harshly for everything. I had a lot of repressed hurt from a long time ago, and now it’s finally coming out, and I’m trying to figure out how to deal with it. It’s a process, but I think eventually I’ll get to a place where I’m much nicer to myself.

Lily Anne pulls into her driveway, parking her car next to her orange Thunderbird, and unlocking the door. She exits with Ben and Joe, and collects the luggage from the trunk. Gwilym pulls into the gravel driveway as she closes the garage door, and smiles as the man gets out with his co-stars and they grab their bags.

Lily Anne smiles at the new post-it notes dedicated to her father that cover the brick wall, and pushes some flowers out of the way of the green door, unlocking it and leading her friends into a garden path.

“Welcome to Garden Lodge, darlings. Feel free to walk around the gardens when you come here, and if you see a flower that looks particularly beautiful, you can pick it and bring it inside. In the foyer, I have a vase you can put it in,” Lily tells them, watching them as they look around the garden, amazed by the sheer amount of greenery and the large house that they’re approaching.

“Lily, this is beautiful. I can’t even believe I’m here at Freddie’s old home,” Lucy gushes, smiling and picking a large sunflower to put in the vase. “I’ve never seen so many different kinds of flowers in my life.”

“Thank you! I take a lot of time out of my day to garden, and when I’m not home to do so, Mary does it for me,” Lily explains before opening the main door for the house.

The group quietly gasps as they enter the white marble foyer with a round, wood table in the middle, a vase of many different kinds of flowers planted in the very center of the room. Lucy places the sunflower in the vase, and as they continue into the house, a bell jingling and tiny barks echo through the hallway.

“Come here, Reykja! Come here, my darling!” Lily Anne puts on a baby voice and gets down on her knees, dropping the sage and letting her tiny Icelandic Sheepdog puppy run into her arms, cuddling her.

Ben gasps at the sight of the puppy, and feels a pang of sadness as he misses his little fur baby named Frankie. “She’s so cute! Hello, love!” He leans down and the dog squirms out of her mom’s arms, bolting into his and licking his face.

Lily Anne is so happy that her puppy likes Ben, since Reykja isn’t usually that excited about strangers and doesn’t usually run towards new people that quickly when she meets them.

“Reykja isn’t usually so comfortable with strangers. She’s never acted like that before, not even with my bandmates, and she sees them almost every day,” Lily comments, smiling and standing up.

Ben stands and grins, holding the happy puppy in his arms. “I’m honored that this adorable puppy loves me. I can’t be mad about the Nando’s fight when I’m blessed with the presence of this little girl.”

Aaron is looking at pictures of Lily Anne and Jim that she has surrounding the vase. Lily Anne instructs her new friends to go upstairs and choose bedrooms to sleep in, and get settled before turning to see that Aaron hasn’t moved, still fixated on a photo of Lily Anne as a newborn, in Jim’s and Freddie’s arms.

She walks over and smiles at the photo softly, standing next to Aaron.

“That’s one of my favorites,” she says, and Aaron looks up, putting the photo down.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude, but I just saw the photos and got to thinking about how I can’t mess this up, for you, and for Freddie,” he apologizes, explaining why he was distracted by the photo.

Lily Anne puts a hand on his arm, squeezing it fondly. “Hey, Aaron, it’s okay. Don’t worry, you’re not intruding. I’m glad you’re taking the role so seriously, despite the fact that so many people choose to ignore and discredit Jim’s importance in my Papa’s life.”

He sighs, looking down at her. “I’m just very stressed out. I’m starting to doubt whether I can do him justice in the small amount of screentime I get.”

She shakes her head. “Aaron, I’m the one who had the final say in choosing you for this role. I have faith in your acting abilities, and the resemblance is as close as it can be.” She smiles at him, tearing up. “I saw you backstage during the filming and for a moment, I thought I was looking at my father. Then when you spoke, I got chills.”

Aaron hands her a tissue and smiles gratefully. “That means so much to me, Lily. I can’t even begin to explain how much your faith in me is appreciated.”

She sniffles and laughs, nodding. “I-I’m sorry, I just get emotional about this kind of stuff sometimes.” She wipes away the tears and takes a deep breath, regaining her composure.

Aaron shakes his head, gently holding her shoulders. “No, don’t apologize. He was your father. You loved him very much. You have every right to get emotional about being reminded of him.”

Lily nods and hugs Aaron, smiling. “You’re going to do so well. I’ll be here for you every step of the way to help make sure everything is as accurate as it should be.”

Aaron hugs her back, and they separate when Joe calls her name from the top of the stairs.

“Lily? If you don’t mind me asking, what’s in the room with the vault door?” Joe yells, his voice echoing down the stairs.

Lily walks over with Aaron following behind her, heading up the stairs. He walks over to a spare room, and Lily looks over to see the rest of her guests standing at the vault door at the end of the hall. Ben is still holding Reykja in his arms, petting her behind her ears.

“This is actually my favorite room in the house. You’ll see why I have a vault door for it when you see what’s inside,” she explains, punching in a code and twisting the big doorknob.

She opens the door to reveal rows and rows of Freddie’s old outfits, with mannequins in the center of the room wearing the harlequin leotard and the Wembley Stadium outfit, minus the yellow jacket Jim sold. The cast enters the room, and Aaron and Allen enter the room last, looking around.

“If I’m ever feeling a little down, I just come in here and play dress up,” Lily Anne explains, smiling. “You can touch everything in here, just close the closet doors when you’re done. That’s how the outfits stay in such good shape.”

Gwilym and Ben head over to the rack with Freddie’s early 1970’s outfits, and Joe and Lucy look at the outfits from the 80’s. Rami is still in awe, looking around the room with a facial expression Lily can’t quite read.

“Are you alright, Rami?” Lily Anne frowns, walking over to the man.

“I’m just… wow. This is so amazing, Lily, it really is. All these iconic clothes… I don’t feel worthy, really,” he explains, shaking his head.

Lily nods, sighing. “It’s a large role to fill. You’ve been tasked with a lot of responsibility, doing his memory justice. I know you can do it, and so do Brian and Roger, but I feel like you should have something of Freddie’s to help you out.”

Rami shakes his head, beginning to freak out. “I couldn’t possibly, all the stuff in here is priceless. I would mess it up.”

Lily Anne waves dismissively, shaking her head. “Nonsense! Darling, Freddie would want you to have something of his. He was a generous man, and I’m sure he’s so grateful that you’re the one portraying him,” she continues, looking through the shelves for something that she feels is perfect for Rami. She finally finds it, and takes a black military jacket with silver tassels out of its case.

“Put it on,” she says, handing him the jacket.

Hesitantly, Rami puts on the jacket, which fits him perfectly, and looks in the mirror. Lily Anne is shocked at how good the fit is, and grins at Rami.

Joe turns around and looks at Rami in the jacket and smiles widely. “Rami, that fits perfectly!”

Lucy looks over and puts a hand over her mouth before walking to Rami and examining the jacket. “That looks…”

“Perfect,” Rami finishes, beginning to smile. “It feels good. I really like this, Lily.”

She shrugs and gestures to the jacket. “It’s an amazing jacket. Subtlety won’t be possible in this look, but that’s not the point of it.” She smiles at Rami. “You should keep it. Freddie would want you to have it.”

Rami looks in the mirror again, and Ben comes over with Allen and Aaron.

“It looks really good, mate,” Ben comments, looking impressed at the fit of the jacket.

Lily squints and shakes her head. “It needs something…” She snaps her fingers when she figures it out and pulls down Freddie’s crown from a special case.

Rami puts on the crown and looks in the mirror. “Wow… this is all surprisingly comfortable. I feel better in this than I did before.”

She shrugs. “It’s Freddie’s energy. He’s got your back, you know.”

Rami smiles, his eyes lighting up. Lucy is right by his side, one hand playing with the shoulder tassels. They’ve got chemistry, and everyone can see it. The two break apart and blush after a moment, and after the group leaves the room, they finally order their Nando’s.

--

“It’s okay to admit defeat, Ben.”

“Shut up, Lily.”

“Denial is the first stage of grief.”

“Don’t be a wanker, Lil.”

“Anger is the second.”

Ben and Lily Anne are back at it again with the Nando’s argument, anxiously awaiting Joe and Rami’s opinions on what is better: the chicken burger with Portuguese rice, or the chicken wrap with potato mash. This is all very intense, and there is palpable tension in the air.

Joe swallows and thinks for a second before continuing to eat his chicken burger. Rami does the same right afterwards, and Lily grins, leaning back on the couch triumphantly.

“The chicken wrap is still very good!” Ben insists, looking at Lily Anne and shaking his finger, defiantly clenching his jaw.

“Bargaining comes next,” she taunts in a sing-song voice, leaning in and smirking.

He huffs and eats his chicken wrap, slumped over slightly. Lily Anne grins and continues eating.

“Did the depression kick in yet, Hardy?”

“Shut it, Mercury,” he retorts, mumbling with a mouth full of food.

“I see we’ve made it to acceptance,” Lily Anne laughs before hearing something shuffle on a shelf and frowning.

The whole room goes quiet, and Lily Anne looks up to see that her Papa’s ashes are… wobbling back and forth, as if they’re getting pushed around by two people. Her eyes widen and she presses her lips into a thin line, taking a deep breath through her nostrils.

“...is that normal, Lily?” Gwil quietly says, raising a brow.

“I… well… the cats don’t usually mess with that particular piece,” she tries to reason, even though she’s hearing Jim’s dying words in her head.

“I’ll knock over your Papa’s ashes when we find the man for you.”

This is strange. Why are they just wobbling? Shouldn’t they fall? That’s what Jim said would happen. Unless he and Freddie aren’t in agreement yet over the man in question. Clearly the shaking is due to the blonde next to her.

That confuses her even further, because one, she’s just met Ben, two, she’s not even sure if she’s truly in love or just being thirsty, and three, a lasting marriage requires a reciprocated affection for one another, and she can’t just assume that Ben likes her.

“Should I get more sage?” Ben asks, putting down his wrap.

“Uh-- yeah. More sage would be good,” Lily Anne says, trying to ignore her racing thoughts. “It’s um, in the kitchen. In a cabinet with some pictures pasted onto it.”

Ben nods, standing up and moving to go to the kitchen. “It’s across the hall and to the right, correct?”

Lily Anne nods, still staring at the urn. She wants to scream when the urn stops moving just as Ben exits the room. Her fathers are making it very clear what they want, but Lily Anne is mortified that they did it in front of people she wants to be friends with, opening up the possibility of scaring away her newfound companions.

The room is filled with a thick tension as the urn stays still for a few moments, at least until Joe finds a way to break the tension in the room by pointing out something he likes.

“Oh my god, is that a Wii?” Joe asks, pointing to a tall, white rectangle on the T.V. stand, underneath the mounted flat screen.

“Yeah, I do! I’m wonderful at Mario Kart,” she says, grinning at Joe. A part of her wants to cry because she’s so happy that he cut the tension.

“Which character do you play as?” he asks, munching on his burger and looking at her with childlike excitement.

“Baby Peach, duh,” she responds, scoffing. “She’s adorable and she gets a bullet bike.”

He groans, wringing his hands. “I hate her! I always play as Yoshi, and fucking Princess Bitch always beats me. Always.”

Lily Anne raises a brow and puts her burger on the coffee table, leaning against the couch. “Princess Bitch? It’s not her fault that you can’t handle her in all her royal glory, and curse her out because of your own ineptitude as a player.”

Joe’s mouth falls open, and he nods, putting his food down as well. “It’s not my fault that the game is fucking rigged so that the computer always wins, Lily. I am amazing at Mario Kart, and that is a fact. No matter how well I play, I always lose to her.”

Lily Anne stands up and moves to the T.V. stand, pulling out two Wii remotes and tossing one to Joe, who catches it and sits up on the couch. She puts the disc in the Wii and starts up the T.V., grinning.

“Let’s test this theory of yours out, Joe. Let’s see if we get beat by Princess Peach when we’re doing Coconut Mall,” she challenges him, crossing her arms.

“Oh, you’re on, Mercury,” Joe responds.

“Bring it, Dinosaur Boy,” she taunts back.

The rest of the cast laughs, watching all this go down. Joe crosses his arms at the nickname.

“Dinosaur Boy. Real original, Lily Anne,” he says, playfully mocking her jab. “I don’t know you well enough to come up with a nickname for you just yet, but when I do come up with one, it will be amazing.”

“I can’t wait to hear it, Dinosaur Boy. Are you ready to get proven wrong?” Lily Anne smirks, twirling the controller.

“Who wants to place bets on who will win? My money’s on Lily Anne,” Lucy suggests, grinning at the other woman in the room.

Joe shakes his head. “You’re only saying that because she’s the only other woman here. I know that women should support each other, but that doesn’t mean they always have to support each other.”

Lucy shrugs, “Regardless, my opinion isn’t going to change. I think she’s correct.”

Lily Anne picks up another controller and tosses it to Lucy, smiling. “Screw just placing the bet, let’s both test out this theory. You can be baby Daisy, and together we can kick Yoshi’s ass.”

Lucy grins back at her, nodding. “Let’s do it.”

The cast lets out an exclamation of excited anticipation as Joe turns to Lily, shaking his head.

“Well that isn’t fair!” He shakes his head. “If you get to have Lucy on your team, I get to have Ben on mine!” He points to the man who just walked back into the room with Reykja following him.

Ben frowns, putting down the sage and picking up the puppy. “I was gone for five minutes. What’s this all about?”

Gwilym looks up at Ben from his place on the couch with a look of barely contained amusement. “It all started when Joe pointed out that Lily Anne has a Wii, and she told him that she’s very good at Mario Kart. Then, when he asked which character she played as--”

“Baby Peach,” Lily Anne interjects.

“--Joe said that he hates playing against Peach because the game is apparently rigged to make sure the computer always wins,” Gwil continues.

Ben nods slowly, trying to piece together the situation. “So all of that ended up creating some sort of contest to see who’s correct, and Joe wants me to help him prove Lily Anne wrong.”

Gwil nods. “Yes, that’s exactly what happened. Do you want to help Joe?”

Joe pouts up at Ben, clasping his hands together under his chin. “Please, Ben? You’re my only hope at exposing the truth behind Nintendo’s cruel business practices.”

Rami snorts, beginning to laugh quietly into his hand. Gwil bites his lip to avoid doing the same, but Aaron and Allen lose it, looking at each other and letting out loud barks of laughter. Ben sighs, putting Reykja down on the ground, where she runs to her plush dog bed, curling up and knawing on a Chewy Vuitton plush toy.

“Alright, buddy. I’ll help you out,” he says, and Joe grins, raising his hands in a thankful gesture.

“Yes! Thank you, Ben! I’ve never loved you more than I do now,” he says, gaining a tired but amused reaction from Ben.

Lily Anne passes Ben the fourth remote, smirking. “Ready to be proven wrong again, Hardy?”

Ben takes the remote, his hand brushing hers. “Don’t get your hopes up, Lil.”

She shrugs, and sits next to Lucy. “Alright. Whatever you say, darling.”

Ben sits next to Joe, and the game begins.

“Hah! Take that, Mercury!” Joe exclaims as he unleashes a blue shell.

“You wanker!” Lily exclaims, watching as Baby Peach goes spinning out of control. “Lucy, take the lead! I’ll catch up!”

“You’ve got it, Lily!” she responds, zooming ahead to be in first place.

Ben bangs his cart into Lily’s and she smirks, shaking her head as she receives three bananas from a blue box. “Oh, love. You made a mistake.” She unleases all three in rapid succession, causing Ben’s baby Mario to spin out of control.

“Jesus Christ, Lil, the hell was that for? I only hit you once!” he yells back at her, trying to speed up once more.

She grins. “Even once was too much for this match, darling!” She gets a bullet, and speeds through the finish line at first place, and as the victorious music plays, her and Lucy scream happily, hugging each other and laughing.

Joe and Ben lean back, defeated. Gwil and Rami pat their backs as the triumphant women flaunt their victory, and Lily Anne tosses her controller to the ground in front of Joe’s feet.

“Fuck yeah! Suck my fat cock, Mazzello! Hah!” She high fives Lucy, and grins.

“We should celebrate our victory! Champagne sounds appropriate to me, don’t you think, Lily Anne?” Lucy says, grinning at her new friend.

Lily Anne smiles and shrugs after a brief moment of freezing up. “Sorry, love. I can’t personally drink alcohol, but I do have some that the rest of you can partake in if they’d like.”

The rest of the cast perks up and collectively agrees to drink, and Lily Anne heads to the kitchen to get Moet Chandon and Smirnoff from her alcohol cabinet. She hears frantic knocking at the kitchen door and turns to see Ezichi, looking impatiently into the glass window.

Lily Anne opens the door and lets her bandmate inside, frowning. “What’s wrong, Ezichi? I thought you were going to be on a date tonight.”

The tall Nigerian woman huffs, taking off her vintage paisley overcoat. “Jesus, Lily, I’ve been knocking for ten minutes! What took you so long? I even texted and called you. The guy had a fetish for dark-skinned ladies and the second he referred to me as an African princess, I left.”

Lily Anne shakes her head, collecting the bottles and some champagne flutes in her arms. “I’m sorry, Zichi! That’s gross. I have guests over and we were playing a very intense round of Mario Kart, so I wasn’t checking my phone. Now, since me and Lucy won, I’m getting something for everyone to drink.”

Ezichi takes some of the shot glasses and the bottle of vodka before commenting, “You better not be consuming any of this shit, alright? You know I already don’t like that you carry it in your house.”

Lily Anne sighs tiredly, closing her eyes. “You know I won’t drink ever again, Ezichi. Not after what happened.”

March 13th, 2010

Ezichi watches Lily Anne through the glass window into her hospital room, where she has an I.V. in her wrist giving her fluids and nutrients and is having her heart rate monitored. She feels absolutely terrible about abandoning her friend throughout her time of need, but Lily Anne just wouldn’t listen to her when she tried to help her find healthier ways of coping with losing her father.

Everyone in Room 301 felt Jim’s loss intensely, especially since he had always been there for them. He went to every gig he possibly could, and it was always comforting to look out into the audience and see his smiling face and cozy woolen sweater. Even when he got sicker, he tried to make all the gigs he could, and at one point, his nurse, Laura, was accompanying him to the shitty pubs the band played at.

It was even worse for Bronwyn and Madigan, since once they came out to their parents, they were not allowed to stay in their homes, and were disowned from their families. Jim took them in and let them live with him and Lily Anne at Garden Lodge. He had such compassion for them, especially since he knew the struggles they were going through. All of them came to see Jim as a second father to them and went to him with their problems, which he would help them through with wise advice, a pot of tea, and some shortbread cookies.

After Jim passed on, Lily Anne became more distant, and began to drink excessively. They couldn’t perform because she was always blacked out during the weekends, never made it to rehearsals, and even drank in the mornings. She took some time off from school after the trauma and lived alone in a small flat in downtown London, which quickly became a cesspool of empty vodka bottles, garbage everywhere, and dirty laundry. Bronwyn and Madigan were so mad at her that they decided to distance themselves from her right away, but Ezichi was bound and determined to get her friend back, and reunite the band. But after a month of advice fell on deaf ears, she too left Lily Anne to her own devices.

Oh, how she regretted that decision.

About a month later, she was contacted by Brian and informed that Lily Anne had been admitted to the hospital for alcohol poisoning, and nearly died alone in her flat. As soon as she got to the hospital and had her stomach pumped, Lily Anne had a generalized tonic-clonic seizure.

For three minutes, Lily Anne’s body shook uncontrollably, and then she slept for twenty hours straight afterward. Brian was the first to see her after everything and told Ezichi that Lily Anne would appreciate her company, even though she was far from fully recovered.

With a deep breath, Ezichi blinks away her tears and wipes her eyes before entering the room. Lily opens her bloodshot eyes and looks at her friend, gulping.

Ezichi looks at her bedside table, where there is a vase with flowers and a note from Brian, and on the floor, unopened, is a letter from Roger. She takes in the sight of the I.V. and Lily’s greasy hair limp around her shoulders, and the dark circles under the girl’s eyes.

“I know,” Lily hoarsely says. “You don’t have to say anything nice, Zichi. I know how horrible this whole scene is.”

Ezichi nods, sitting beside Lily in an uncomfortable chair, pointing to the envelope on the floor. “You didn’t open Roger’s note.”

Lily shakes her head. “He could barely look at me, Zichi. He didn’t speak a word to me, either. He’s so disappointed. I don’t want to read what’s in that envelope.”

Ezichi picks up the note and hands it to Lily, placing it gently in her shaking, clammy fingers. “At least put it next to Brian’s note, okay? So they don’t accidentally throw it out.”

Lily blinks back tears, and when she tries to move, her hand shakes so badly that she drops the card back on the floor. “I-I can’t…” she whispers, a single tear escaping her left eye.

Ezichi gets up and does it for her, letting out a sniffle. It hurts to see her best friend so weak. Lily Anne lets out a tiny whimper, and bites her lip to contain a sob, but Ezichi can see that there is so much she’s holding back.

She holds her hand when she sits back down, wiping away a tear. “Let it out, Lily.”

Lily shakes her head defiantly, her body betraying her by letting out fat tears that smear the remainders of her mascara from two days ago down her cheeks.

“I’m not going to judge you, Lily. You’ve gone through hell and back, and you need a good cry.”

Lily squeezes Ezichi’s hand and her whole body trembles with the urge to let out the tears.

“Before you can get better, you need to let that shit go first, alright?” Ezichi gently coaxes her friend along, and that’s when Lily Anne breaks, releasing a heart-wrenching sob.

“I-I’m so sorry, Ezichi. I’m so fucking-- god, I’ve been an awful friend! I’ve hated not being with the band, I-I’ve hated myself for acting so badly, and I’ve hated the world for taking Jim away from me. I’ve never been this horrible in my life! None of you deserve this! Absolutely none of you.” Lily takes a heaving breath. “But the worst part about all this isn’t the overdose, or the seizure, but…” She sobs. “But putting everyone who’s ever loved or cared about me through emotional hell! I’ve been so blessed to have s-so many people who love and c-care about me, a-and what did I do with that blessing? I wasted it, Ezichi! I’ve ruined the band, I’ve pushed away my uncles, and all they wanted to do was take care of me, and I nearly--” She curls up into a ball, shaking her head.

Ezichi rubs her shoulder, squeezing it gently. “I know.” She’s beginning to cry as well. “You don’t need to say it, Lily, I know what almost happened.”

Lily peaks her head out from her arms, eyes red and puffy and lips cracked and quivering. “I-I thought that if I joined my Papa and Daddy, everything would be better. But it only made everything worse, because I failed.”

Ezichi shakes her head, sobbing. “Lily… we failed you as well. We all abandoned you when you needed our help.”

Lily shifts to be closer to Ezichi. “No, no, nonononono, please don’t blame my selfish actions on yourselves. I was being so horrible. I deserved to be left to my own devices.”

Ezichi swipes at her eyes aggressively and looks Lily in the eye. “Don’t you fucking dare say that ever again, Lily. You were begging for help, and we ignored you because we were being selfish and doing what was in our best interests.”

“But--”

“If I hear another ‘but’ out of you I will tape your fucking mouth shut, do I make myself clear?”

Lily nods, still shaking.

“You have never been without emotional baggage, Lily. Between having one father who passed away before you could even really get the chance to remember him, and another one who was already living on limited time when nobody could tell how much was left, death has always been a part of your life. Your own mortality was a subject that came up far sooner than it should have, and even though you were sheltered partly from it, it was inescapable. You were always bullied for having a gay father, and the fact that your other one died from AIDS has always been shoved in your face by wankers who don’t understand how impossible it was to prevent from happening. Your racial identity made it hard for you to fit in anywhere, because you’re not Indian enough for Indians to consider you one of their own, and you’re not Irish enough for the Irish to take you in either. You’ve never had a designated space where you belong. You’re incredibly talented, but you’re always going to be compared to your father, who’s considered to be an untouchable musical icon. The standards you’ve had to live up to have been so high! No wonder you didn’t feel like you could show any vulnerability when you’ve been made to feel less than your entire life! You were afraid of judgment so you pushed everyone away, because that’s what you’ve always been taught to do by experience.” Ezichi is crying as she speaks, wiping away her tears. “You’re damn right that you were selfish, Lily. Nobody can deny that. But we ignored the reasons why you were acting out in the manner that you were, and didn’t do enough to help you.”

Lily Anne has gone quiet and is now sitting back, contemplating what her friend has told her. She still feels guilty, that much hasn’t changed, but perhaps not all is lost. “Can you all forgive me?” Her voice is quiet and weak, and she’s hoping that it is possible to regain what she’s lost.

Ezichi nods, sniffling. “Of course, you idiot. We love you so much, and I for one don’t want to live without my best friend and frontwoman.”

Lily holds out her arms for a hug and Ezichi holds her tightly, both girls sobbing.

“I love you so much, Ezichi.”

“I love you too, Lily.”

Lily Anne walks into the living room with the champagne and Ezichi follows her inside.

“Everyone, this is my bandmate and best friend, Ezichi Adebayo. Ezichi, this is the cast of Bohemian Rhapsody.”

Everyone introduces themselves, and Ezichi smiles at them, putting down the bottle of vodka and the shot glasses.

“It’s nice to meet you all! I’ve heard great things about the project from Roger and Brian, and I can’t wait to see how it all turns out.”

Ezichi helps the cast fill up their champagne flutes and Lily Anne puts some bottled water into a flute as well to participate.

“To Freddie,” Lily Anne says, and everyone toasts, repeating the statement.

After some time is spent getting to know each other, Ezichi pulls out a sheet of paper from her purse and hands it to Lily, who sips her water and frowns.

“What is this, Zichi?” she asks, unfolding it.

“The reason I came here. It’s a new song I just finished penning the lyrics to, and I would love to hear what kind of melody you have in mind for it,” she explains. “It’s going to be nine years since we lost Jim, and I was thinking about him, and I wrote this. I was thinking it could be some kind of ballad, but we can experiment with the sound.”

Lily Anne nods, smiling. “That sounds fun!” She looks at the cast. “Do all of you want to hear it? We could use some fresh ears, since a lot of the time we just go to Brian and Roger for help.”

Gwilym nods, smiling. “That sounds great! I’d love to help out.”

Rami agrees, and adds, “It means a lot to us that you’d trust us to help you with your music.”

Ben grins, and after taking a sip of his champagne, he says, “I try to write my own stuff all the time, so I’m glad we can work with real musicians.”

Ezichi smiles at Ben and raises a brow. “What does your stuff end up sounding like, if you don’t mind me asking?”

He shrugs, “It depends. Usually, it’s more rock n’ roll, but there are some softer songs as well.”

Joe shrugs and looks at his friend. “So basically, what Room 301 does.”

Ben nods, finishing off his glass and putting it down.

Lily smiles. “That sounds great. I’d love to hear your stuff, Ben. Is everyone ready to read through this?”

There are nods and smiles, and forty minutes later, the cast and the band members have created a ballad that sounds unlike anything Room 301 has ever produced before.

After finishing the song, Ezichi packs up her guitar and wipes away stray eraser markings on the paper, and as shots of vodka are poured, she is approached by Gwilym.

“Ezichi? If you don’t mind, could I ask for a favor?” he asks politely, acting fairly calm amidst the group of high energy actors on the couch drinking.

She turns around and looks up at him-- and being almost six feet tall, that’s quite the statement-- smiling. “Sure thing, Gwil, what is it?”

He sighs and rubs the back of his neck, shaking his head. “I have to do the Bohemian Rhapsody guitar solo, and even though they’re going to play a recording of it in the background, I just really want to actually perform it. I’m pretty good at mimicking the guitar playing that Brian does, but I just want it to be more genuine. Could you teach me how to really play guitar? I’ve heard that Brian trained you himself, and I must admit, your playing tonight was incredibly impressive. The song was even moreso.”

He’s tall, handsome, charming, and professional. Ezichi was already initially attracted to this man, but the genuinely heartfelt comment about her playing makes her blush.

“Of course, Gwil! Thank you so much for those comments. That’s one of the kindest things anyone has ever told me.” She smiles and picks up her guitar case. “There’s a studio downstairs with a guitar similar to Brian’s Red Special, and we’ll be able to talk without loud, tipsy actors in the background. Want to go there?”

He nods, smiling in relief. “I’d love that. Thank you so much.” He grins, gesturing back towards his fellow actors. “Want to take a few shots before we do that, though?”

She nods, laughing. “Of course! I can always do one more shot.”

Lily Anne walks out of her house and into the garden, sitting down in a rocking bench by the koi pond and lighting a cigarette. She may not drink anymore, but she still has her bad habits. As she begins to rock back and forth and looks up at the dark sky, she hears a door closing and footsteps coming closer, and turns around to see Ben walking out of the house.

“Was it getting too crazy in there?” she asks, and he turns to face her.

He walks over and sits next to her on the bench, pulling out a pack of Marlboros. They have the same bad habit, apparently.

“Not really. Joe is getting loud and Rami is getting silly, but otherwise, it’s the same friendly chaos as always,” he says dismissively as he pulls out a cigarette and puts it in between his lips.

The sight is far more attractive that Lily Anne would like to admit, and she’s glad it’s dark, because she’s certain she’s already blushing, but the sweating is about to start soon.

He frowns when he feels his pocket for a lighter and can’t find one. Lily Anne lights hers and holds it out so he can light the cigarette, and he mumbles a thank you to her.

They sit in silence, listening to the koi splash around in the water and the creaking of the bench.

“Lily, do you mind me asking something sort of serious to you?” he asks, letting out a breath of smoke.

She turns to face him and shakes her head, releasing the smoke from her nostrils. “Not at all. Ask away.”

He takes a moment to collect his thoughts before saying, “When Lucy mentioned champagne, and you said that you don’t drink alcohol, I just noticed you kind of stiffen up, and seem a bit uncomfortable for a moment. Do you mind me asking why you don’t drink?”

“I don’t mind. Thank you for asking about it in such a kind way, instead of rudely demanding answers like the paparazzi and the press do.” She nods and looks at the koi pond. “Well… on January 1st, 2010, my dad died. I was 20 years old. It was very, very hard for me to cope with. I pushed everyone who ever loved me away from me and went down a very dark path. I lost control over my life. A large part of that path was me abusing alcohol and making very selfish decisions.” She takes a deep breath and blinks, leaning back against the bench.

She feels a warm hand on her own, and turns to look at Ben, who gently squeezes her hand. “You don’t need to elaborate if it’s too painful. I can guess what happened, and I’m so sorry it did.”

She smiles fondly at him and shakes her head. “That’s very sweet, but I’ll be fine.” She takes a drag before continuing her story. “On March 11th of the same year, about two months after my dad died, I was admitted to the hospital because I overdosed on alcohol. I don’t remember the ride over, or the clonic-tonic seizure I had a day later, but I do remember waking up in a hospital bed, feeling like utter garbage, unable to move without shaking like a leaf.”

Ben’s hand holds onto hers more tightly, and she blinks back tears. “I do remember-- shit, I’m sorry for crying.” She wipes her eyes on the sleeve of her turtleneck, and he shakes his head.

“Don’t be sorry. Like I said, if you want to stop--”

“No. I need to tell the story. I need to get it off my chest.” She takes another deep breath. “I remember Brian crying in the hospital, holding me like a lifeline because he thought I was surely going to die. I remember Roger not being able to look at me or talk to me, and leaving a note on my side table that I didn’t open for three months because it was too painful for me to do. I remember Ezichi crying, apologizing for the fact that they didn’t know how to help me in the moment, and telling me that it wasn’t all my fault.” She wipes her eyes again, sniffling. “I remember the day I finally got back in contact with Bronwyn and Madigan, and how good it felt to know that they forgave and loved me, regardless of how badly I fucked up.” She shakes her head as Ben moves closer to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Most of all, I remember the moment where I truly dedicated myself to getting my shit together after being admitted to a rehab center for cocaine addiction.”

February, 2013

Lily Anne stays curled up in her bed as a nurse walks into her room in the rehab facility for her daily checkup.

“Hello, dear. How are you feeling today?” the nurse asks Lily Anne, sitting at the foot of her bed.

“Like fucking shit,” she responds, not bothering to lift her head from the pillow.

The nurse, who’s been taking care of Lily Anne since she got here a month ago, sighs and scribbles onto her clipboard notepad. “Got it. Same as always. On a scale of one to ten, how much motivation--”

“Zero,” Lily Anne responds, cutting the nurse off.

“Alright, same as yesterday, I see,” she comments, tiredly writing more down. “Emotionally, are you doing any better? You haven’t come to any of the group therapy sessions yet,” she asks, straying from the narrative.

Lily Anne shakes her head. “Emotionally, I’ve been fucked raw in my ass by a cactus. I’m just tired of emotions at this point.” She scoffs. “What good will the group therapy do? Everyone else will judge me, ‘cause I’m a rich girl who didn’t appreciate all my blessings, and because it got too stressful earning fuck tons of money to add to my already thriving bank account, I decided to ingest copious amounts of cocaine.”

The nurse pinches her brows together and shakes her head, trying to remain calm. “Group therapy is a safe--”

“Don’t start with your ‘safe space’ bullshit. All that means is that people silently judge you instead of just fucking admitting that they think you’re an awful, pathetic cunt of a person,” Lily responds, angrily spitting back at the nurse.

With a resigned sigh and a final scribble, the nurse stands up and moves to leave. “Should I turn on the radio before I go?”

Lily shrugs. “Whatever. I don’t care.”

The nurse turns on the radio before leaving the room, shutting the door behind her.

Lily Anne is sick of rehab trying to get her to do these garbage activities that are supposed to make people feel better. Meditation is ancient horseshit that just allows her time to think more deeply about what a fuck up she is, gardening reminds her too much of home and how Jim is rolling in his grave at the thought of his daughter fucking up her life with drugs for a second time, painting just gets her comfy sweatpants dirty, and animal time just makes her think of how the cats were better children to Jim and Freddie than she ever will be.

The radio is playing some bullshit song about going clubbing and getting fucked up, so Lily Anne closes her eyes and tries to sleep. As she’s nodding off, the radio gets filled with static and switches to another station, and she’s awake again.

She sits up as the song begins playing, and instantly tears fill her eyes at the sound of her father’s voice.

Sammy was low

Just watching the show

Over and over again

Knew it was time

He’d made up his mind

To leave his dead life behind

His boss said to him

“Boy you’d better begin

To get those crazy notions right out of your head

Sammy who do you think that you are

You should’ve been sweeping up the Emerald bar”

“Shut up, shut up, please, shut the fuck up!” she shakes her head, curling up under her covers. “Go back to that shitty station from before, please!”

The music doesn’t stop, and the chorus makes her cry even harder.

So honey spread your wings and fly away

Fly away far away

Spread your little wings and fly away

Fly away far away

PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER

‘CAUSE YOU KNOW YOU SHOULD DO BETTER

The last lines are blasted louder than the rest, and it’s as if her father is yelling at her, which makes her cry so hard she shakes.

“I-I’m sorry! Please, just… I can’t! I get it, Papa! I fucked up. Again. Do you think I haven’t been beating myself up about this? If you’ve really been watching over me like Daddy said you were, you’d know that already!” She practically spits at the radio before grabbing her hair in her fists. “I can’t live like this anymore! I’ve always tried to live up to some impossible legacy, do what would make you proud, and instead, I’ve disappointed you. Twice. Sure, I’ve sold some records, won some awards, made some money. Maybe if I bared it all to the world and wrote songs that air all of my fucking feelings like you did, I’d actually make you proud!”

The music stops suddenly, and the radio turns itself off. Lily Anne presses her fingers to her lips, blinking back tears. So that’s what her father wants her to do… face her fears of being completely open in her music, and just throw caution to the wind.

Suddenly, her mind is clear. She knows what she needs to do.

Lily Anne stands up and pulls one of Jim’s sweaters over her tee-shirt, and shuffling down the hallway in the fuzzy slippers Sarina gifted her, she walks to the art room and takes a pile of lined paper and a pack of Sharpies.

She’s going to write, dammit, and she’s going to write the most brutally honest songs the world has ever heard.

She finishes her story, taking a deep breath and wiping her eyes. “That felt good, actually. I’ve never really talked to anyone about all of it, other than the band.”

Ben takes a moment, holding the stub of his finished cigarette and trying to think of what to say.

Lily lets out a laugh and looks over at him, placing a hand on his arm. “You don’t have to say anything, I know it’s a lot. I’m a lot. When it comes to me, everything is just… a lot.”

He takes a moment before shaking his head. “That’s… I mean… you’ve been through hell and back, and you’re still standing here, stronger than ever.”

She puts her cigarette butt in the ashtray she has rested on a pedestal next to the bench and turns red, rubbing the back of her neck. “I mean, yeah, I’ve been through a lot, but it could’ve been worse.”

Ben turns to her, confused. “Could’ve been worse? Are you fucking kidding me? Not much is worse than overdosing two times, losing both your fathers, constantly being berated by the press about sensitive subjects when you’ve already explained what you wanted to say in your music, and having those experiences devalidated because of the amount of money in your bank account. You’ve got to be one of the strongest people I’ve ever met.”

Lily Anne is smiling, but she tries to hide her face. “Ben, stop it. I’m all flushed.”

Ben raises his hands in surrender. “Alright. I’m done. But if you ever need a pep talk, I’m here.”

She nods and squeezes his hand. “I appreciate it.”

They sit in silence before noticing that the sun is almost coming up. Lily Anne is extremely confused.

“How long have we been out here?” Ben asks, frowning.

She shrugs. “Well, we came out here at eleven and-- what the fuck?” She stares at her watch. “It’s two in the morning!”

Ben looks at the watch as well in disbelief.

“Jesus, we spent four hours just talking about me! I’m so sorry, I must seem incredibly narcissistic right now,” Lily Anne says, feeling incredibly embarrassed.

Ben shakes his head. “Don’t be sorry. This gave me a better idea of who you are. I’m grateful that you trusted me enough to tell me all this.” He smiles at her. “I understand you so much better now, and I’m glad this all happened.”

She nods, turning even redder before yawning and standing up.

“Let’s get some sleep. Next time, we can spend four hours talking about you,” she says, walking inside.

Lily dreams she’s in the garden and hears singing coming from the bench her and Ben were sitting on. She walks over and sees Freddie there in a yellow sweatsuit, petting Delilah and smoking a cigarette. It’s not the first time she’s dreamed of her parents, but somehow this feels more real than her other dreams of them have.

“Papa?” she calls out quietly, smiling at him.

Freddie turns to look at his daughter and smiles widely, patting the seat next to him. “Sit down, sit down, darling! We have something very important to discuss.”

She does as she’s told, and frowns. “How do you know that we have to discuss something? This is just a dream, Papa. You’re not really here. It’s all my imagination.”

Freddie raises a brow. “Darling, opportunities like this don’t come often, and may never happen for people who don’t have a close connection to the dead. You, however, have been on the brink of death twice. It’s easier for us to communicate with you because of that.”

She nods, choosing to focus on petting Delilah when she moves to her lap, purring. “Okay. What do you need to talk about, Papa?”

Jim comes out of the house, carrying three cups of tea on a tray. He smiles fondly at his daughter and kisses her forehead.

“Hello, love,” he says, handing her a cup of tea.

“Hello, Dad,” she responds, sipping her tea.

Freddie takes his cup and smiles at Jim before turning his attention back to Lily Anne.

“So… why am I here?” she asks again, looking at her fathers.

“First of all, the song Ezichi has written is absolutely lovely, so be sure to tell her that,” Jim says. “It was very touching. I miss her very much.”

“We miss you too, Dad. Every day,” Lily says, smiling back at her father.

“Yes, it was beautiful. I loved it as well. But we are really here for something much more important,” Freddie says. “Remember the urn earlier today?”

Lily nods, sighing. “Yes, of course. You nearly scared my new friends away.”

Freddie holds the hand that isn’t holding a cup of tea, looking intently into Lily’s eyes. “Lily Anne Mercury, if you don’t hold on tightly to that lovely man who spent four hours talking to you in this very garden, you will never find anyone to spend the rest of your life with,” he insists, and Jim places a hand on his husband’s shoulder.

“I kept Freddie from throwing the urn because you just met him, but please keep him around. I like the boy,” Jim explains, being much more rational.

“Okay… I mean he’s very pretty--”

“He looks like a Greek god, darling!”

“--and very kind--”

“He spent four hours listening to you air out your emotions, woman! Kind is an understatement!”

“Papa, stop!” Lily raises a hand and Delilah runs back inside the house to escape the Mercurys’ conversation. “I just met him.”

“Love at first sight is very real, darling,” Freddie insists, looking incredibly seriously at his daughter. “He may not realize it yet, but he loves you.”

Lily Anne rolls her eyes, and Jim cuts in.

“I think he’s a very good option--” Jim begins.

“He’s the only option, Jim!” Freddie says, looking at his husband with intensity. “They’re perfect for each other, and I cannot wait to see the gorgeous grandchildren they’d produce!”

“Papa!” Lily turns red and covers her face. “You can’t just say stuff like that!”

“But am I wrong, darling?” he asks, raising a brow.

“No! No, you’re not! We’d have lovely mixed-race children with dark hair, tan skin, and green eyes, and they would be out of this world gorgeous!” Lily exclaims before sinking down in the bench and chugging the rest of her tea. She puts down the cup and sighs. “If I start thinking about these things… no. It sets up my expectations too high, and when has anything in my life ever gone as perfectly as I’ve planned them?”

Freddie wraps an arm around her and she leans into him, closing her eyes. “I know, darling. But this… this, I know will work out.”

Jim comes around her other side and does the same, smiling at his daughter. “I trust your judgment, my love. Give me a little more time and I’ll answer your questions, okay?”

Lily nods, gulping back tears. “I know you will. I just wish you were both actually there.”

Freddie holds her close, smiling sadly. “We wish so too, darling. But when you need us, we’re here.”

Jim kisses his daughter’s cheek, smiling. “We have to go, love. Do what you feel is right.”

Lily nods. “Alright. I love you both very much.”

In the dream, she closes her eyes, and when she wakes up, Reykja is licking her face and wagging her tail. As she gets up to give the dog breakfast, she can’t help but think about the fact that her Papa might be right.

TAGLIST: @andtheytoldustotellyouhello @plethora-of-things @borhap-socials @everybodyplaythegame @i-the-fangirl @deakydeakydeaky @shisterfackisback @samanthadegaro @lv7867 @fatbottomedcurls @hystericallyqueen @haisimsim @peterparkeroos @teenwolflover28 @queenficarchive

[loretranscripts]

Lore Episode 53: Trees and Shadows (Transcript) - 6th February 2017

Credit for transcribing this episode goes to @laqueus-ludovicus! A big thanks to her for helping me with this project, it’s massively appreciated.  

tw: animal mutilation

Disclaimer: This transcript is entirely non-profit and fan-made. All credit for this content goes to Aaron Mahnke, creator of Lore podcast. It is by a fan, for fans, and meant to make the content of the podcast more accessible to all. Also, there may be mistakes, despite rigorous re-reading on my part. Feel free to point them out, but please be nice!

Some of the things we see aren't what they appear to be. Heather Bowie and her cousins learned that lesson back in 1989. She was eleven at the time and according to her mother, Karen, it was a bright winter day, the sort of day where the sun reflects off every inch of snow, which always has a way of making dark objects like houses and trees stand out. Heather and her cousins were walking along a small country road that ran between their town and the next when they saw a dog sitting in a stream near the roadside. Well, stream might be too strong of a term, it was just a bunch of run off, the sort that passes beneath roads through those big metal tunnels. It was a drainage ditch basically, but kids love dogs, so Heather and the others veered off the road side and into the snow to walk toward it. They assumed it was a local pet that had wandered a bit too far from home, so they planned to check its collar and see what they could do. But even from a distance it looked a bit odd. To be specific it looked too big to be a dog. They took one more step toward it and then stopped. They stopped because that's when the dog turned to look at them. And as it did so, it did something they weren't expecting - it stood up on its hind legs like a human. Obviously frightened, the girls ran home as fast as they could. Humans have always had a connection to animals. We live with them in our homes. We depend on them for food and resources. We identify with them, sometimes even treating them more like people than beasts. We speak to them, we name them, and we project human personalities on them. For thousands of years, we've treated them as if they were more than animals. But of course, that's just our imagination. If we believe the stories, though, it might be more true than we expected. As I said before, some things aren't what they appear to be. Sometimes, they’re worse. I'm Aaron Mahnke, and this is Lore.

Our connection to animals is nearly as old as humanity itself. We've almost always treated them as important parts of the world around us, although different cultures have expressed that importance in a variety of ways. The common thread, though, is that animals have always helped us better understand our world. Some cultures have revered them as gods to worship. Others have seen them as valuable sacrifices to offer to whatever deity they wanted to please. In many cultures, animals have served as our companions through daily life, and in others they journeyed with the dead to the afterlife. Just think of what we know of ancient Egyptian culture. There were entire cults built around specific animals, like bulls and cats, their dead were frequently buried alongside animals that held personal or spiritual significance, and many of the Egyptian gods and goddesses were represented through simple animal symbolism. Anubis, for example, was part man, part jakel. Sekhmet was a woman with the head of a lion. Ancient Hindu teachings for thousands of years have demanded deep respect for the animals around us. In China, the ancient philosophies of Confucianism and Daoism both stress the same thing. With the Hindus, that respect is founded on the idea of reincarnation, in China, it's rooted more in moral responsibility, but the result is the same. Animals are and always have been important to us, and yes, I know that ancient cultures focused a lot of their religion and practice around the sun and moon and stars, but they often framed those complex systems with simple animal language. Thats why so many cultures have their own zodiac symbol, where the major constellations are represented by animals. The Greek root of zodiac, by the way, literally means “circle of little animals”. Just an aside – the ancient Egyption word for cat was meu, which sounds a lot like the noise that cats actually make. And that classic stereotypical dog name, Fido? It comes from the Latin word fidelis which means loyal and faithful.

It's easy to see then how animals have helped us understand our world a little better. They help us find our bearings and keep us company in a big, wild world. More significantly, though, they've helped us understand ourselves by giving humans a sense of identity and purpose, a theme or a banner to unite around in a sense. Sometimes those themes are took the form of religion, as was the case in Egypt with the bull cult. Sometimes it's more of a totem thing, where an entire tribe or community built their identity around a significant animal in their environment. Sometimes they did it for a feeling of safety, sometimes it was a symbol of power. In Icelandic folklore the Norse warrior class known as “berserkers” were members of the bear cult. Berserkr in Old Norse literally meant “bear shirt”, but it also embodied tha fierce, powerful nature that they wanted for themselves as warriors. They were often depicted wearing bear skins and sometimes even bear heads as head coverings. That's a tradition that still survives, by the way. You can see it in the ceremonial military caps worn by some personnel in multiple European countries. The most common tribal animal, though, has always been the wolf. It's a global fascination, with examples found in Mexico, North America, India, Mongolia, and the Middle East, and this is probably because wolves represented so much of what early humanity identified with. They moved in packs, they hunted their food, and they have a distinct social order. Any hunter-gatherer community would instantly admire those qualities. And like bears, wolves were also seen as brave and powerful warriors. Ancient Persian and Hittite warriors were known to dress in wolf skins for battle. Interestingly, though, they also had a reputation for tossing their weapons aside and just jumping on their enemies, literally biting them like wolves. For a very long time, you see, humans have wanted to be animals, which of course led to stories where that was the case - animals that became people, people that became animals. It's an idea so powerful that we can find it hiding inside the folklore of dozens of cultures. The Native American skinwalker, the Nagual of Central America, and of course, throughout much of Europe, there's the werewolf. These are stories, of course, artifacts from another time, when animals were gods and humans desperately wanted to imitate the divine. And yes, these stories also address our dual nature, because we are in so many ways nothing more than animals ourselves, but those moral lessons have a way of distracting us from the plot. For thousands of years, people have told stories about mysterious beasts – and it turns out those stories might be more real than we care to believe.

In 1989, a woman was driving along the same country road that Heather Bowie and her cousins had just walked along weeks before when they sighted that strange creature. In Lorraine Endrizzi’s case it was well after sunset, so she was doing the responsible thing and scanning the edges of her headlights for wild animals. Wisconsin has plenty of deer, after all, and deer don't mix well with windshields and front ends. Lorraine worked as a manager at one of the local bars in Elkhorn and had just wrapped up a very long, very tiring shift. All she really wanted to do was get home safely, but when she did notice something unusual, it wasn't in the periphery of her headlights. It was right in the road in front of her. Seeing it early gave her the chance to slow down and swerve to avoid hitting it, but it also helped her get a good look at it. From a distance it looked as if there was an animal hunched low to the pavement of the oncoming lane. It's head was gently bobbing at an irregular rhythm. She couldn't tell for sure, but it almost seemed to be eating. As she slowly passed it, she claims she saw everything. It was eating, alright. Whatever it was, the creature was hunched over a pile of roadkill, pulling big chunks of flesh off the dead animal. Lorraine said she could clearly make out what appeared to be long, white fangs that protruded from a gray snout. Together with the pointed ears, she couldn't help but think of as a wolf. The trouble was this wolf was kneeling on the road, like a human. It's one story, I know, and stories that are born in the middle of the night after an exhausting day of work are often full of flaws. That might very well be the case here. I think we've all had moments where we've seen things that don't make sense, so Lorraine’s story could just be a bit of midnight confusion, I suppose – if it wasn't for the other stories.

Two years later – on Halloween night, in fact – it was Doris Gibson’s turn. She was just 18 at the time and had been driving out to pick a friend up for some trick or treating back in town. Like Lorraine before her, she was driving that same stretch of country road, named for the old Bray family farm that it passed. According to the story Doris later told to a local reporter, she’d briefly taken her eyes off the road to switch channels on the radio when she felt the car lurch. It was as if, she said, she'd run something over. Frightened by the possibility of what had just happened, she stopped her car, put it in park and then got out for a look. Doris, it seems, wasn't a big horror movie fan, because anyone who knows anything about horror films knows that you never, ever get out of the car. Ever. Still, there wasn't a scratch on her car. The bumper was spotless, there was no sign of blood or fur or anything else that might hint at fresh road kill. And even more convincing, there was nothing on the road, no dead animal, no unlucky farmer out for an evening walk, not even a pothole. There was no clue anywhere that could explain the bump shed felt. She was about to turn and head back to her car when movement caught her attention. There was something in the trees and shadows along the roadside. According to her, it was a large figure that stood upright like a man but seemed hairy and very muscular, which (as you might imagine) was a pretty shocking thing to see on a dark, lonely country road. So Doris did the smart thing and bolted for her car door. As she did, this thing, whatever it was, chased after her. Doris said she could hear the heavy thud of the creatures feet on the pavement behind her and the sound of the deep, panting breaths. Thankfully, she managed to get into the car and shifted quickly back into drive, but as she pulled away, she felt her car shudder once more. When she looked in the rear view mirror, all she could see was the dark silhouette of the creature filling her back window. It had jumped onto the trunk.

Whatever her attacker was, she claims that it fell off when she got her car moving quickly enough, but she wasn't willing to stop for another look. She did, however, continue on to her friend’s house and eventually they both headed back to town for some Halloween fun. Later that night, on her way back along Bray Road to drop her friend back off at home, Doris swears she saw the figure one more time. It was far off in the distance, at the edge of her headlights, but it was the same unmistakable shape. Tall, thick and very animal like, but standing upright on two legs. It wasn't until the next day in the safety of her own driveway and by the light of the noon day sun that she took another look at her car. There, on the trunk, she found evidence that something very unusual and very dangerous had taken place the night before: long, vicious scratches all grouped together as if they were made by claws.

This is the point in the story where you're probably expecting me to clarify what the creature was. All of the physical descriptions certainly point toward the folklore regarding werewolves, but almost no one in Elkhorn made that connection. Maybe that's because there were never any stories of humans transforming into the monster, or perhaps it's because the sightings weren’t limited to full moon nights. In the end, whatever it might have been, the people of the area took to calling it the Beast of Bray Road. There were other theories, of course. One common suggestion was rooted in the Native American folklore about a giant wolf known as the Shunka Warakin, which was described as sort of a hybrid between a wolf and a coyote. Others have made comparisons to the Inuit stories of the Amarok or the Waheela, both of which were enormous, monstous wolves. But honestly, there are far too many human charactristics attributed to Bray Road creature to make the comparison stick. Then, that’s without taking into account the additional sighings. Because Lorraine and Doris weren’t the only witnesses to see something strange along that stretch of country road and once they spoke to a local reporter, others found the courage to come forward with their own tales.

Marvin Kershnick was one of them. According to his testimony, he had his own encounter way back in 1981, a full decade before Doris Gibbson. Unlike the others, though, his sighting didn't happen in the dark. He'd been driving along Highway 11, which runs just north east of Elkhorn, and as he approached the turn off for Bray Road, he saw an unusual animal in the trees along the side of the road. Kershnick slowed down when he saw it and then pulled over to get a better look. The way he described it, much of the creature was obscured by the underbrush, but it was clearly wolf-like. They stared at each other for a moment before the beast moved toward the car. Frightened, Kershnick drove away quickly. Five years later, in 1986, Diane Koenig was traveling in the same area, returning home after a day in nearby Berlington. From a distance, her headlights didn't give her a very clear view so at first it just looked like a tall man was walking along the side of the road with something heavy in his arms. As she drew closer, though, all of that came into focus. According to Koenig, this man had the head of a wolf, and the heavy burden that it held in its arms turned out to be a full sized deer. Unlike Kershnick though, Koenig didn't stop for a closer look and instead sped up, just in case the creature decided to give chase. She kept the story to herself for years out of fear that she’d be considered a lunatic.

More stories flooded in. One unnamed girl told the authorities that she'd been chased up a tree by a wolf then had to stay there for over an hour while it paced around, trying to find a way to climb up after her. What struck her as odd, though, was that the wolf walked around the tree on its hind legs. When she led her parents back to the tree the next day, they found large claw marks on the lower portion of the trunk. Even Scott Bray, who lived on the family farm that gave the road it’s name, claimed to have seen unusual things, including enormous wolf tracks on his property. Local animal control authorities were called to several homes in the area to examine and collect a large number of mutilated animal corpses. A few townsfolk tried to blame that one on Satanic cults, but everyone else agreed it was just the Beast of Bray Road. There was a good amount of fear in town, as you might expect, but the sightings were also creating something else that's lasted to this day. A reputation. The bar where Lorraine Endrizzi worked created a menu item called the Silver Bullet Special. A bakery in town started making wolf shaped cookies. Think Roswell New Mexico and UFO collectables but with wolves, and I think you'll get the idea. Even Chuck Coleman, a local state representative, got involved by using the Beast of Bray Road in his election marketing. He ran an ad that showed a man dressed up as the Beast casting his vote for Coleman. Perhaps proof of the popularity of the Bray Beast stories, Coleman won his election. Doris Gibson's encounter also seemed to have been the last sighting of the creature by travelers on Bray Road. After that, Elkhorn Wisconsin sort of became quiet – for a while, at least. You see, in the spring of 1992, county animal control officer John Frederickson was called to a field outside of town, to the east near Bray Road. This is a man who was used to the occasional road kill or injured farm animal. He’d seen a lot in his career. But when he arrived at the field, he was well out of his depth, because there, laying in the pasture, were the bodies of five horses. Their throats had all been slashed.

It seems that people are drawn to animals and we always have been. And if the internet’s collection of cat videos and dog tricks tells us anything, it's that our passion for these animals isn’t fading any time soon. Perhaps they meet a deep, unspoken need in our soul or maybe they just trigger the right pleasure center in our brains. Whatever the reason might be, animals are significant to us. But every time I see someone dress up their dog in a sweater, I can't help but think of how, for a very long time, humans used to be the ones dressed up as animals. We envy their grace, their strength and their power, and that envy has woven itself into the very fabric of global folklore. But what if there's another reason why we tell stories of animals that act human? What if, deep down, we fear the possibility, or that our ancestors told just enough stories about human-like animals that we wonder, just a little? Whatever it was lurking in the trees and shadows of Elkhorn, Wisconsin back in the early 90s remains a mystery to this day. No answers have been uncovered, no unusual corpses have been found in the woods or along the roadside, no nests or dens, or whatever sort of dwelling a creature like the Beast of Bray Road might have lived in. All we have is story. Sometimes all we ever have is story. All of the witnesses who came forward to tell their stories seemed to agree on the details, and surprisingly all of them appear to be telling the truth. When a documentary on the events was being produced in 2008, all of the witnesses agreed to take a polygraph exam, and each of them passed. It's not irrefutable proof, I know, but it's enough to make you wonder.

Sometime after the events of the early 90s, a local who lived along Bray Road looked out his window to see a man standing in his driveway with a handgun. Obviously frightened by the sight of an armed stranger in his yard, he called the police, who quickly arrived. José Contreras was immediately arrested and his handgun, along with 50 rounds of ammunition, was confiscated. He eventually went to trial and his lawyer attempted to build a case around self defense. Contreras, he told the judge, was looking for the Beast of Bray Road, which he believed was a werewolf. That meant, according to his defence, he wasn't a danger to anyone else. The judge, though, dismissed the notion and convicted Conteras anyway. His reason? Apparently none of the bullets in the gun had been silver. Maybe it's fantasy, maybe it's real, but it's amazing in the very least how parts of fantasy can become so accepted that they play a role in something as significant as a criminal trial.

One final tale. Just six years ago, more witnesses came forward about a new sighting. One night in October of 2010, six people were driving together down Bray Road. Down the road ahead, they watched as shadows seemed to move across their path. As they drew closer, they watched the shape run into the open field to their right. What they say might seem hard to believe, so we’ll have to take them at their word. They claimed it was an animal, covered in fur, and similar in appearance to a wolf - except it was running on two legs and not four. Once it reached the field, the beast dropped to all fours and bolted off into the darkness. One final detail sets this report apart from all the others, though, because unlike every other encounter dating back over 30 years, this one finds a way to make the Beast of Bray Road even more frightening. According to the witnesses, it wasn't a single creature. There were two of them.

[Closing statements]

[maluminspace]

Manchester soundcheck 27/10/2018

Okay so this is gonna be hella long and I’m sorry if it’s rambley!

So they played valentine after asking us how it felt to be VIP’s 😂

They all sat down with tea and Michael kicked a wire and two of the lights on the ground started flickering and Calum was laughing about it being a melfunction.

Calum then laughed that there was a chicken nugget on the floor and they were shouting at a crew member asking if it was him. I think one of cashton blamed Michael but he said “I’m a vegetarian!” And then they were just laughing that it was bad stage hygiene 😂

Question 1

“if you could go back and tell your 2012 self anything, what would it be?”

Luke said “I’d tell myself the world wasn’t going to end”

Mashton laughed and they both said something about “that awful movie had us all scared”

Calum asked “what movie?” and Ashton said “well it was called 2012 Calum” and they all laughed.

Ashton (seemingly out of nowhere?) announced that he and Michael shared a room back then. They agreed that that was cool.

Michael (again seemingly out of nowhere?) said Calum’s bed broke and he and Ashton told the story of when they went to Asda to buy like 80 toilet rolls to prop up Calum’s bed because a new bed wasn’t in the budget. Micheal laughed that over time Calum’s bed sank as they kept stealing toilet rolls from under it. Calum said “yeah, sometimes I’m the middle of the night I’d hear rummaging under my bed and it’d be one of these guys getting toilet paper!”

Ashton then said “didn’t it break in the first place because I bodyslammed you?”

They all laughed and talked about creating a wrestling ring onstage and bodyslamming each other. Michael said “no one in this band has been bodyslammed for a long time!” And Ashton turned to him and Luke and said “I think you two are due a bodyslam”

Michael said he’d tell his 2012 self to not eat as much McDonald’s. Luke said “yeah that stuff’s poison”

Question 2

“Are any of you morning people? Who’s the best person to be around in the morning?”

Micheal said that Calum’s the most consistent person in the mornings. The rest of them are either their best or worst selves.

Luke said that when he’s not touring he likes to have a nice morning routine and a jog and stuff but when he is touring it’s like their work day starts late “our work day just started when we played Valentine” and Ashton laughed and added “yeah we’ve just walked into the office!”

Question 3

OUR QUESTION!!! (This is gonna be a long personal ramble-sorry in advance!)

@mermaidcashton asked it because I was too scared 😂 they asked what her name was and when she replied Claire, Luke said “ahhh you have a very successful chain of stores.” And Ashton said “I got my ears pierced at a Claire’s like 6months ago and I was behind a like a 6 month old baby in the queue!” Then Michael asked “what’s your question?”

Claire said “well actually it’s mine and my wife’s question, she’s over there in front of Michael”

They asked where I was and when they spotted me Michael and Luke waved and said hi (I’m Still internally screaming). Luke asked “why are you so far apart?” Claire answered “because we had to decide who was asking you the question and I won” And they were all like “ooohhhhhh!!” And Ashton asked “how’d that go down” and Luke swivelled in his seat to look at me and said “is there tension?” And Claire (ever the opportunist) said “no but part of why spent all this money to be here is so I can tell you that we have don’t stop on our wedding video!” They all laughed and Luke asked “how’d that work? Were you frolicking through flowers while it plays?”

Claire said “no it’s over all the people dancing at night time”

Michael said “ahhh that makes sense I guess!”

Ashton said “thanks for my invite, by the way!”

Michael added “yeah it’s not like I wanted to come or anything...”

Luke asked “so do you have a question?”

Claire said “yeah it’s about 5sos4, what can we expect like influences, similarities and differences to Youngblood?”

Ashton answered “I think you can expect more influences like our queen cover that came out yesterday, did you hear that?” And everyone screamed. He continued “work starts officially on it in January next year, it’s not gonna take 3 years this time!” He mentioned that their current recording contract ends next month and they’re looking a lot more on being more involved in absolutely everything from the merch to how stuff is delivered and presented to us. He said they already do a lot of all of that but with each album they wasn’t to do more and more. He ended his answer by saying “that’s my plan... OUR plan...”

Question 4

“If you could live anywhere for the rest of your life where would you go and why?”

Luke started off sensibly saying it’d depend on whether he was in the band or not. “If I’m in the band then LA, if I want to go home and be Australian then Sydney, if I want to be like off the grid away from technology...” but then Michael interrupted him by yelling saying “Abu Dhabi” over him a few times until Luke finally said “I was gonna day the Bahamas or something...”

Michael said “so not Abu Dhabi” And Ashton asked why he kept saying “Abu Dhabi” and asked if he wanted to go there. Michael said “yeah... no. I’d choose LA, Sydney or Tokyo”

Ashton had made it clear he had an answer ready so Michael thought it was funny to say “what about you Calum?”

Calum said Sydney although Michael kept saying something about a pub? Like he thought Calum would choose a pub? (I couldn’t make him out clearly hahaha)

Ashton said he’d choose Iceland because he can see himself getting involved in deep sea fishing. Michael laughed and said that’d drive Ashton crazy.

Question 5

“What’s your favourite thing about Manchester?”

One girl was pointing to herself and Luke said “you’re my favourite thing about Manchester” and Ashton shouted at him for stealing his answer. The girl said “I’m not even from Manchester” and Luke did an impression of her!

(I can’t remember anything more about this question so if anyone else was there please let me know!)

Question 6

“If you could perform with or collaborate with any bands from Manchester who would it be and why?”

Ashton did a bad impression of a Manchester accent whilst saying “rolling stones” before deciding that actually they were too old and it’d be an odd mix of music. He then remembered oasis come from Manchester and said he wouldn’t want to tour with them because they fight all the time. They then told a story about when Liam Gallagher almost punched Ashton and again Ashton did a bad Manchester accent doing an impression of Liam saying “what the fuck are you looking at?”

Michael laughed that Ashton didn’t even know who Liam was and came over to the rest of them and told their manger that “that guy just tried to fight me” and the manger said “that’s Liam Gallagher, he tries to fight with everyone” and then Calum was laughing that Liam was pushing his kid in a pram at the time and then Ashton said that’s why he wasn’t scared of him! I think they settled on the 1975 in the end.

Question 7

“If you had the chance to ask your favourite band anything what would it be?”

Luke said he’d ask them how they cope with touring so much without going totally crazy. Ashton agreed and they said you have to a bit crazy to do it in the first place. Calum said “I think you should just tour at the very start or very end of the year” (or something like that) and Ashton laughed and said “we should have just asked you, then!”

Michael said that he liked that question and that it was very meta. He asked if everyone knew what meta was and Luke said “yeah but she didn’t say we were her favourite band though...” Michael laughed at that and said “that’s true, I was prosumptous”

Question 8

“What’s your favourite song to play live”

Michael said ‘if walls could talk’. Ashton said ‘more’ and Luke said ‘Youngblood’ I think Calum said ‘babylon’. I can’t remember if they elaborated any further, I don’t think they did?

They ended by playing ‘if you don’t know’ and they all seemed pretty happy and giggly as they thanked us all and said they were excited for the show.

This has taken like 2 whole weeks, I’m so sorry! Please message me if you were there too and you remember stuff I’ve missed or if I’ve got anything in the wrong order!

[lesbians-and-lights]

Robin mems, please dm if this is familiar

- i was a nonbinary lesbian. i was also autistic, had anxiety, and tics - El was a lesbian and in a relationship with Max - Will was gay aroace (demiromantic but aro was easier to say) - Mike was a trans girl who came out after canon but during season 2/3 canon she was trying her closeted best

- Eleven went by El Hopper even when she lived with the Byers and used 0011 as her code name whenever we used codes with the walkies or stuff like that, she Did Not like being referred to as Jane

- i joined the party but mostly hung out with Steve. i became more of the father figure while Steve actually was the mother of the group - Steve was my absolute best friend although he was a bit of a dumb ass and i often had to advocate for him being better than he seemed a good amount of the time - Steve was either bi or gay but i cant remember which though during/after season 4 i know he got with Eddie

- i ended up getting closer with Max and El.  they would invite me to sleepovers and stuff and i would drive them places a lot to hang out, i remember sometimes we would sit on someones bed and do each others hair or clothes although Max usually led the clothes events while i did hair since i was really good at braiding and fun fancy styles, i was also pretty good at making jewelry and such - at one point i made the whole party these little embroidery thread and bead things that you could either clip onto things as a keychain or tie up as a bracelet. any holiday or birthday gift from me was going to have some kind of little handmade jewelry or keychain type piece in it

- at some point Steve, the party, and i all went to a summer camp a few towns away together. Steve and i were counselors while the rest of the party were all campers.  it was some kind of sleep away camp and i remember El and Max were in my cabin while Steve got Will and Mike since Mike wasnt out yet and someone else had Dustin and Lucas. i remember one night when the campers were having a movie night or something, the counselors got a night time pool party and i know Steve and i had a lot of water fights during that.  Steve and i continued to be counselors there for a few years and the kids would come and go depending on the year but the next time everyone was there Mike was out and she could finally be in my cabin with El, Max, some other girls, and

- one of my special interests was languages/codes including read, fictional, and self made - by the events of season 4 i could fluently read, write, and speak English, Russian, Icelandic, could fluently sign ASL, and was learning Mandarin Chinese with plans to also learn Cantonese plus i could write in a shit ton of different codes, ciphers, and fictional languages - other special interests of mine included film (mostly film production but there were a few specific movies that rotated in and out the only one of note/that i can remember was The Labyrinth) and various types of puzzles (rubiks cubes, the ones usually made out of various shapes or sizes of wood or bamboo bricks, the metal ones where youve got to separate the two rings or whatever, ectect) - when i was younger chess was a big special interest of mine but it no longer was by the time any canon events happened - i knew or was good at all sorts of weird little things like how to make weird shapes with my shoe laces, how to pick locks or easily get the correct lock combo, break or break into just about any object with the least amount of damage through what was usually just pure coincidence, and just a bunch more but i cant quite tell whats actually significant enough for anyone to remember it to know if i should list more or not

[peaches-of-1]

Tarmac Romance

Taehyung x Female!Reader

You’re on time for your flight. Great. You’re sat next to a cute guy. Even better! That cute guy turns out to be idol and stage actor Kim Taehyung! That’s amazing! Now you’re stuck on a delayed plane with him and his castmasts for the next forseeable future. What happens is beyond your imagination.

Your flight was finally called. It did its best to get out before the snowstorm hit, and you were grateful for that. Because you were you and wanted to look good while in comfort, you were wearing a thick pair of Kwanzaa themed leggings and a green warm sweater dress with a black tank top underneath instead of a bra.

Cuz you weren’t about to take a 5 hour flight wearing a bra.

You noticed a lot of colorful baggage being thrown onto the plane after you sat down. The overhead compartment had your larger carry-on bag inside it while your purse was at your feet. That wasn’t the only thing, but a lot of beautiful people were on the plane too. Like more beautiful in their own unique ways. A lot were bare faced with masks on their faces.

Since you had been one of the first people on the plane, you knew it’d be a while for take off. So your eyes wandered outside. Thank god you got a window seat. The person sitting next to you greeted you from behind a mask. You looked to see who it was and it was a cute man dressed in a pair of sweats and a comfy green sweater. It’s funny how you two actually matched.

Their deep voice sounded comforting, and they didn’t seem like they’d be too much of a hassle during this flight. There was a small seven pointed star on the silver necklace they wore, but you didn’t think much of it. Very masculine, but you never knew.

“Hi, I’m Kim Taehyung. It seems we’ll be sitting together during this long flight.”

“Hello, I’m (Y/N). It seems so. Where are you headed?”

He replied, “The company and I are headed to New York. We’re performing there and also get to take a bit of a vacation too. What about yourself?”

“Just going to spend the holidays with an internet friend. What company are you in?”

Taehyung pointed to a guy’s tealish blue sweater retro accents that read HAIRSPRAY! You started gushing about how much you loved the Korean revival of it and how they make the music sound more like kpop even though you weren’t really into idols. You could apprciate the artistry and how amazing the costumes looked. He chuckled. Then it struck you. Which actor was he? It was sort of hard to tell with his face mask on, but judging by his voice...and his name!

“Link! Kim Taehyung plays Link Larkon! I knew I recognized that name!”

“You’re a fan, huh?” He asked playfully.

As if you hadn’t just been the most uncool fangirl there ever was. You blushed and gave an awkward chuckle before you nodded and introduced yourself.

He smiled, “Glad to meet you.”

“I’ll try not to bother you too much.” You said. “You probably need your rest what with performing eight times a week and being a lead.”

“Someone as beautiful as you could never bother me.” He replied.

You nodded and then got out your reading material and put in your earphones. It was what you had planned to do before you knew you were sitting next to a [Broadway] star, and he seemed to be doing the same. The last thing you wanted to do was take his sleep from him.

A few minutes later, you looked up. Why hadn’t you moved yet? The snowstorm would arrive at any moment, and you couldn’t wait to taste found family traditions on your tongue. Eggnog and homemade cranberry sauce. Pasta casserole! A flight attendant passed by. She was making sure everything was fine before the safety videos.

Those began to play on the screens. Must’ve been just a minor delay. You checked to make sure your phone was on airplane mode and continued listening to your multilingual Broadway playlist. It was on shuffle, so one second it was Spanish Hamilton and next thing it was Icelandic RENT.

You started humming along to English Lion King, and Taehyung seemed to perk up a bit. He looked over to watch your lips.

“It’s the circle of liiiiiffeeee,”  You sang under your breath.

He smiled and you felt a tap on your shoulder.

Your cheeks instinctively got hot as you took your earbud out and looked at him, “Sorry. Am I being loud? Sometimes I can’t tell.”

“No, not at all. Can I listen with you? You’re singing under your breath and it sounds like an interesting playlist.

“Oh, a sure. It’s musical theatre songs in every language I could find.” So you you put your earbud back in and gave him the other one after wiping it off.

Taehyung stuck it in his ear and the two of you just sat...and sat...the delay was announced. Just 30 minutes, nothing too long. It was nothing to worry about until 30 minutes passed by already.

“We should be taking off now, shouldn’t we?” Taehyung asked you.

You nodded since that’s exactly what you thought. He took off his face mask five minutes later and you couldn’t help but think how cast pictures didn’t do this man’s beauty justice. The natural theatre grace with which he moved. His golden skin glowing in the led lights of the plane. Your heart began to pound in your ears, tuning out Hair in Russian. It wasn’t until you forced yourself to continue reading did your heart settle a bit.

Ten minutes later, and everyone was getting restless. You looked outside your window. Snow was falling. No. No. No!

“Um…” You started to say to your seating neighbor, but he noticed too.

“Yeah, I uh…” He handed your earbud to you. “I’ll go see what’s up. Be right back.”

You nodded, “Okay.” and turned off the music until he got back. In case he still wanted to listen to your International Broadway playlist.

It was hard to focus on the page without is warmth by your side. Looking at the snow made you worry. Would you get to taste your step brother’s pumpkin s’more pie on Christmas Eve like you planned? Was the snow sticking? Yeah. Yeah, it was. Very well in fact.

“Dear passengers…” A voice came on the speakers.

Taehyung sat back down next to you, and by the tense look on his face, it wasn’t food news. He shook his head and sighed.

“...I am sorry to inform you that we are currently unable to fly. The snowstorm arrived sooner than expected and all flights have been told to either land or--in our case--not go anywhere until things clear up.”

Everyone groaned and moaned and sighed and protested in unison.

The voice continued, “We are also not allowed to let you off for safety reason at this current moment. So for now, please relax and be patient. We will do our best to take care of you and will give you more information as it becomes available. For now, it is best if you contacted friends and family who are waiting for you and let them know about the delay as well. Thank you.”

So, you were stuck on a plane. It could’ve been worse. Your seating neighbor could’ve been a super talkative creep or crying baby. Luckily, it was the beautiful Kim Taehyung. International idol and actor of the stage and screen. Although you weren’t too into idols, you were into theatre. So this was great for you.

“Jeez.” You sighed. “I’ll have to tell my friends I’ll be later than expected.” and took out your phone.

“Yeah.” Then he stood and turned around. “Hey, boss!”

Another deep but feminine voice called back, “Yeah, I’m on it!”

Afterwards, you two just sorta continued to listen to music in a comfortable silence. You soon stopped paying attention to your book and just stared outside as the snow and wind got thicker and higher. Taehyung’s head suddenly dropped on your shoulder giving you a bit of a startle. You smiled at him as he smacked his lips and grabbed his Tata plushie tightly.

Cute.

You then allowed yourself to read again. There was nothing to be done now other than wait. A cast member who introduced herself as Darla asked if it was ok that he was leaning on you like that. He just looked so adorable and you didn’t want to wake him, so you said it was.

“Dear Passengers, we still have no news about being able to let you off, but since this is the time the first movie would be showing, we will be doing that soon. Also, all headphones are free as an apology for this situation. Let your attendant know if you’ll need a pai. Thank you for your continued patience.”

However, you dozed off as soon as you were told there was no real news. Languages and musicals mixed together as you performed in the mother of all plays. Not to mention, Taehyung was also there. He sand like the deep voiced angel he was as he played all the love interests allowing your true wishes and desires to come apparent. He began singing “It Takes Two” just to you.

When the song ended in your dream, the handsome apperutuib trued o kiss you. It startled you so much that you opened your eyes while still in shock. Hart, please calm down. You begged.

Taking in your surrounding, nothing much had changed. Taehyung. Taehyung was...holding your arm? Ok…? Where had his plushie gone? The heart shaped head was under his tired and heavy foot. You allowed yourself just to stare a bit at his sleeping face and let out a small giggle. His face did a tiny smirk before settling back to its relaxed state of sleep.

“Taetae!” Someone called from the back.

You shook him gently, “Taehyung-oppa. Wake up. One of your castmates is calling you.”

“Hmmmm….” He hummed. “Call me oppa again.”

“Oppa~” You laughed a bit at yourself and how sweet you sounded.

“Yeah?” He looked up at you with his boxy grin springing forth.

You couldn’t help but giggle once more. The guy called his name again, so Tae stretched and yawned before he stood and looked at his phone. It sounded like the director again. He told the idol to check the group chat. Taehyung smiled and showed you the message.

“What song?” He asked and handed you his phone.

Knowing there was only one answer to get everyone involved. Taehyung smiled when you showed him the message you had not sent. He pressed the SEND button and everyone chuckled.

“Tracy, you’re up!” The director said.

A plus sized girl with beautiful black hair stood up and began to sing, “You can't stop an avalanche as it races down the hill/You can try to stop the seasons, girl, but you know you never will/And you can try to stop my dancing feet, but I just cannot stand still/Cause the world keeps spinning 'round and 'round/And my heart's keeping time to the speed of sound/I was lost 'til I heard the drums, then I found my way.”

Taehyung stood and joined in, “Cause you can't stop the beat/Ever since this whole world began/A woman found out if she shook it she could shake up a man/And so I'm gonna shake and shimmy it the best that I can today/Cause you can't stop the motion of the ocean or the sun in the sky/You can wonder if you wanna, but I never ask why/And if you try to hold me down I'm gonna spit in your eye and say/That you can't stop the beat!”

As the cast performed an acapella version of the song, it was just indescribably beautiful. It was so cool to see the switch from human to character especially for the girl who played Penny. The girl who played Maybelle hadn’t returned from the bathroom in time for her part, so you picked up where she would’ve come in before you could stop yourself.

“Oh, oh, oh, you can't stop today/As it comes speeding down the track/Ooh child, yesterday is history and it's never coming back/Cuz tomorrow is a brand new day/And it don't know white from black!/Yeah cause the world keeps spinning 'round and 'round/And my heart’s keepin time to the speed of sound/I was lost ‘til I heard the drums, then I found my way!”

Everyone gave a bit of a cheer and clapped as we continued with, “Cause you can't stop the beat/Ever since we first saw the light/A man and woman liked to shake it on a Saturday night/And so I'm gonna shake and shimmy it with all of my might today/Cause you can't stop the motion of the ocean or the rain from above/They can try to stop the paradise we're dreaming of/But you cannot stop the rhythm of two hearts in love to stay/Cause you can't stop the beat.”

A few of the members were dancing in the walkways. It just sorta happened. Yeah, you were no Broadway baby, but they didn’t seem to hate your voice. Taehyung put his arm over your shoulder as the song came to a close.

“...But you cannot stop the rhythm of two hearts in love to stay/You can't stop the beat/You can't stop the beat/You can't stop the beat/You can't stop the beat/You can't stop the beat!!!”

People had their phones out and recorded the impromptu performance. For the next couple of hours, that’s what happened. When things got too anxious or boring someone would send a song to sing to the group chat. You got to trade off lines with both the Maybelle actress as well as the one who played Tracy. They’d just point at you, and you’d sing the next part.

There was a strong part of you that wanted to suggest “It Takes Two” for Taehyung since no one had so far, but you were wayyyy too nervous to do such a bold thing.

Taehyung had a baby ARMY in his lap anyways and was playing with her. She looked like your’s and his love child with his nose and eyes but your skin tone and hair color and a slightly similar texture. Adorable. What if...no no no. What were you even thinking? You having a child with the Kim Taehyung. ARMY would eat you alive!

“You’re staring, (Y/N).” His brown eyes sparkled as they looked at yours. “Did you wanna play with the baby too?”

He sat the cute little bean in your lap and you let her grab your pointer finger. Her hand started to shake is as she smiled all excitedly. Soon enough, you were playing peek-a-boo with the baby girl. She laughed every time. Then the father came and thanked you two for playing with and watching her while he got some rest before returning to his seat.

“Dear passengers, first we would like to thank you for your continued patience. The snowstorm seems to be clearing up from our readings!”

Everyone erupted in cheers!

“We have no word about what’s to come next. That is we do not know if we will be able to fly yet or if we’ll be able to drop you back off at the airport for you guys to reschedule for another flight--which better be free or I’m gonna fight the airline for you.”

People laughed.

“We have been told either one or the other will be happening within the next hour. We will let you know when we have information. Thank you again.”

“At least that’s something.” Said the man who played Corny Collins. He sat in front of you, and his face popped up as he looked at you from kneeling in his seat. “Aye, (Y/N) lemme ask you something.”

You looked up at him, “Yea?”

He grinned, “What would it take for you to become part of this cast? We’ll figure out a part for you to play if you want it. I ask cuz I think you’ve got a future in musicals. Pipe like yours are hard to find.”

If you got to be Tracy...you’d get to kiss Tae--

Your face got hot, “No, no, I could never!”

The bottle blonde Eunha who played Amber scoffed, “You’re talented, girly. At least think about it.” She lowered her voice. “Some contracts are expiring soon, so there will be space for you.” She grinned.

Corny nudged her and she playfully stuck out her tongue.

When her attention shifted back to you, she said, “I know what can get you to say yes.”

You laughed, “What?”

“Taetae, do your solo.”

Without a second of hesitation, Taehyung burst into singing, “They say it's a man's world, well, that cannot be denied/But what good's a man's world without a woman by his side?/And so I will wait until that moment you decide~”

The ensemble males began to croon softly with Tae, “That I'm your man and you're my girl/That I'm the sea and you're the pearl/It takes two, baby/It takes two”

No fucking way! Your face felt like it was burning and that sensation reached your ears too. The flame only got hotter when he made you stand in the middle of the aisle as he sang to you and only you. He even leaned in to touch his forehead to yours making sure he had a clear view of your face no matter if you were too nervous to look into his.

You wanted to glare at Eunha, but he wouldn’t let you take his eyes off of him, as he got you to sway with him, “Lancelot had Guinevere, Mrs. Claus has old St. Nick/Romeo had Juliet, and Liz, well, she has her Dick/They say it takes two to tango, well, that tango's child's play/So take me to the dance floor and we'll twist the night away!” He did the move slowly in front of you.

God his voice was powerful! The unique huskiness making it just the right amount of sensual. It also made your panties very wet, but that’s another situation. He put your arms around his neck as he held you around the waist. You knew that everyone was looking at you, but it felt like it was just you and him in that moment. How could Tracy do this every night?

“Tell me you're my girl and I'm your boy/That you're my pride and I'm your joy/That I'm the sand and you're the tide/And I'll be the groom if you'll be my bride” He got on one fucking knee, fam. “It takes two, baby. It takes two.”

Then he held your chin up to look at him, “It takes two, babaayyyyy. It takes...two.”

Ya melted. When he hit the last high note, the plane began to move. You were thrown into his arms and he fell on his back onto the seats. Everyone gasped. Lips.

“Dear passenger. Please get into your seats and buckle up! We are ready for take off! We only have a small window of time to do so. I repeat…”

As the attention had gone elsewhere, you and Taehyung scrambled to get back into your seats and get buckled. You hid your hands in your face and he tried to head to the bathroom.

“Sorry, sir,” A stewardess stopped him, “We must ask that you stay seated until we are in the air.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He sat and put on his seatbelt.

You couldn’t bare to look at him with your heart pounding in your ears even as you apologized for falling into him. He pat your back and said it was ok. Was that a chuckle you heard?

At some point, you were finally able to sit up but still found it hard to look at the beautiful man directly. Also, turbulence with your head down would not be fun.

“Don’t worry about it, ok? I know it was an accident.”

“You’re ok? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

He shook his head, “No, I just…”

You were about to ask what he was trying to say when you saw him move the long recovered Tata to cover his crotch. That area wasn’t that high before, was it? You blushed when you realized.

That was a boner.

“Did I do that?” You asked, having lowered your voice.

Taehyung nodded, “ I was gonna go to the bathroom to...but…”

You swallowed knowing you could help him out. The blankets provided by the airline and the darkness of the plane could hide things if he could keep quiet. Just had to unfold them and put them on your laps.

“I...I’ll help you.”

His eyes got big, “Really? It wouldn’t be--”

“Yes. Really.” You nodded and got the blankets set up and waited for the flight attendants to pass by before you slid your hand down his now unbuttoned pants. You whispered into his ear, “Just stay quiet, ok?”

[kpopidolsarehumanstoo]

“Unexpected Meeting” Xu Minghao (The8) : Drabble

Pairing: Xu Minghao (Seventeen) x male reader

Genre: Fluff 

Relationship with reader: They don’ t know each other yet.

Quick Summary: You and your friend came back to Korea and it just so happens that Seventeen also just landed their plane. 

Warning: The usual cursing lol. 

A/N: This was previously a draft my friend made on my laptop. @livingheartimes and then I realized it was quite nice so I contacted her asking for permission to edit her stuff, and she approved my request so this happened lol. 70% of this was from her and the 30% was from me editing it (mostly changing the pronouns from “I” to “you”. @livingheartimes if you do not like it I'm sorry pls don't kill me TwT lol. I mean I took out quite a huge chunk of your previous plot TwT.

Ps: I hope that yall will like this, again credits go to @livingheartimes  UwU.

Word count: 1,677

You and f/n came back to South Korea from a summer vacation in Iceland. Iceland was really great. It was so peaceful. No one bothered the both of you, literally. The both of you stayed there for only 4 months. You wished you could stay forever, but sadly nothing lasts forever.

You and f/n had a lot of differences despite being the bestest of friends. Your friend disliked Korean music yet he is Korean. He dislikes his own race, he dislikes his own language, he dislikes South Korea. I am (nationality) but, i personally love Korean music. Specifically, K-pop.

He’s usually optimistic, so it’s weird hearing him say such negative things. He’s the type of person that whenever someone bullies him, he looks in the mirror and just says that he loves himself. He’s a bit weird, but in a good way. He hates books. Whenever we go to the library, he always falls asleep. Sometimes, the librarian would even kick us out. He tends to play computer games. He uses social media but is so addicted to computer games.

He is also aromantic, he does not feel any romantic attraction to any sexuality or gender. It’s fine though. You personally don’t care what his romantic preference is (or lack thereof), he’s your friend, you respect him.

You met him when the both of you coincidently, got buried in a mob of books. The books from the upper shelves fell on top of both of you. You were irritated at that time. You were about to freak out but then you heard him laugh. He seemed to enjoy what just happened. You thought he was insane until he helped you up. Since then, he’s been following you for a month and soon enough the both of you became friends.

Crazy isn’t it. You have a friend, after like a zillion-years. Three to four months into your friendship he said he was going to leave for South Korea. You were also going to leave for Kore at that exact date but you decided not to tell him. He suddenly invited you to go with him. He’s totally crazy, in a good way.

Anyways, the both of you arrived in South Korea. A lot has already changed after only 4 months. Well, South Korea is one of the most advanced countries in Asia. Explains it though. You walked together out of the airport. While the both of you were walking, you glanced at him. You noticed he had a smile on his face, but his eyes said it all. You noticed in his eyes that they were filled with hatred. You knew it then, he wasn’t really excited at all.

You told him to come with you away from people but then you heard someone call out.

“y/n! y/n! Here! Come on!”  f/n heard her, too.

“y/n, let’s go!” He said cheerfully and made you follow him. He stopped and waited for you. You just walked and realized how cute he was.

You reached the girl. Her name was g/n. She was a childhood friend of yours.

“g/n , what are you doing here?”

“Well, I heard you were heading here so I decided to wait for you. And for your friend I guess.”

“Thank you, miss g/n. My name is f/n. Nice to meet you.”

“F/n? Nice to meet you, too. But, please, don’t call me miss.”

The both of them laughed it out, leaving you in the side lines.

“G/n, were you waiting for anyone else? You don’t seem to have the intention of moving.” You asked.

“Seventeen. They’re arriving from Japan. I want to see them so badly. Y/n aren’t you a fan of them?”

“Yeah, I am a fan of theirs, Is it ok if we wait for them f/n.”

“Sure.”

“F/n, do you have a place to stay?”

“We were planning on booking a hotel.”

“Just stay at my place then. I have spare bedrooms. The both of you could stay there.”

“Are you sure? We don’t want to inconvenience you.” You asked.

“Yes, I am quite sure.”

Suddenly the airport erupted in screams, when you decided to look towards the screams you saw Seventeen and you immediately stood still. You can not believe what you are seeing. Seventeen was passing by in front of you. Your eyes started searching for your bias right away, and just in time, the guy you were looking for stopped right in front of you.

In front of you was no other than Xu Minghao.Your heart skipped a beat and your breath stopped. Your brain is still processing that the guy you have always looked up to was right in front of you.

Minghao pulled his facemask down and smiled at you. Your brain immediately shut down.

“Hey, what’s your name?” He asked still having that cute smile directed towards you. By your side, you hear g/n squeal.

“Y/n-y/n I’m, Holy shit. Mi-Minghao?” You cursed at yourself for stuttering and stumbling your words.

“Ahh! Cool name. Were you waiting for us?”

You nodded your head yes.

“Ohhh okay. Who would’ve known we had Carats as good looking as you?” The words made you blush. His words were definitely having an effect on you, and you just wanted to hide your face.

“I’ve only been a Carat for on-only a few mo-months.”

“Fair enough. Anything fun happened to you, lately?”

“We just came back from I-Iceland.” You said.

He chuckled at your antics. He finds your stuttering cute and just wants to protect you.

“You’re really cute. Was Iceland nice? I want to visit Iceland someday. Maybe we could both go there together?” He said, ending with a suggestive wink. Your face becoming redder with each word he said.

You smiled as you replied cheerfully, “Iceland was amazing. Very peaceful, perfect for reading books.”

“Could you suggest a good book? I’ve been trying to read lately.”

Before you could answer, one of their guards called them, telling them that it was time to go.

“Wait for a while.” Minghao said to the guard. The guy was clearly pissed but obliged anyways. “Y/n, may I ask where you live? I would like to visit you sometime.” Minghao said with an akward tone on his voice.

You raised your eyebrow at him. “Dude, isn’t it quite weird to ask random people where they live? We barely know each other.”

With this, the cool front that Minghao tried his best to put up, immediately crumbled. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Now that he thinks about it he should’ve asked for your number instead.

“78 Gokdo Street.”

“Huh?” He asked, confused.

“I’m currently staying at 78 Gokdo Street, so if you want you could take a visit.”

Minghao smiled brightly, but his smile faltered when the guard was already having a hard time holding back the rabid fans.

“I’ll visit you soon, Y/n. Goodbye.” He said with a shy smile and puts on his mask. When he walked away, Jun took his hands and ran fast towards the impatiently waiting driver.

A smile blew up on your face. When you looked back towards your friends they had this teasing smirk on their faces.

“Can we just go now?” You asked.

They both nodded and then y’all took the taxi. You arrived at approximately an hour. You went inside your room right away. You still remember everything inside it, but it was cleaner. G/n must have cleaned the room. You lay down your bed right away and before you knew it, you went fast asleep.

The next day, you heard laughter and what sounds to be a strangled goat from downstairs. It woke you up. You tried covering your head with a pillow but the sound of strangled goat was getting on your nerves. You went downstairs frustrated and carrying your pillow. You just wanted to slaughter that fucking goat that ruined your sleep.

“Where the fuck is that goat from?” When you opened your eyes towards the living room, the first thing you realized was that the sounds came from g/n, and then you realized that she made those sounds because Seventeen was in her home.

You halted. Minghao was there talking to F/n. The rest of Seventeen were just there looking awkwardly at the girl having a seizure. And then they all stopped and looked towards you.

You ran back to your room as quickly as possible and locked the door. You stayed sitting behind the door.

“What the fuck? He actually tried visiting.” You whispered to yourself, baffled. You hastily changed your clothes and tried to present yourself at least somewhat decent. You mustered up your courage and went downstairs.

The view in front of you was a wild one. You see G/n on the floor quite possibly dead, the other members seem to be quite close already, they were currently at the kitchen and are emptying liquor cabinet (which makes you happy that F/n was starting to enjoy Korea, and with K-pop idols at that), and then there was Minghao. Ooh boy. He was sitting down properly on the couch, looking at G/n, visibly concerned. Yes, a few minutes with you gone and shit has already gone down.

You went towards Minghao and he immediately stood up straight like a pole when he saw you. You chuckled a bit and went to grab his arm.

“How about we go out and eat ice cream?” You asked.

He smiled but then it faltered when he looked back at your friend that is currently on the floor. “That would be nice and all, but what about her?” His face was filled with concern for the girl that has fainted.

“She’ll be fine. This happened quite often when we were in high school together.” You chuckled and he reciprocated.

“Fine. Let’s go.” Minghao said, a boyish grin set on his face. And with that the both of you set off.

The day ended with a new couple, 13 drunk guys, and a girl still asleep with a puddle of saliva by her side.

A/n: UwU. As always I don't know how to make titles UwU. Also my editing is quite shitty lol. Hope you liked it UwU. Time to make my Jeno fic now.

[kristamead]

In 2019, I want to bring more books to the blog! For starters, it’s about time I compiled a list of some of my personal favorites that I think everyone should read.

What are your must reads? Favorites? Current books?

Leave a comment at the end of this post!

I’d love to hear from you (:

From fiction to non-fiction, music to manga, personal greats to graphic novels. Creating a general book recommendations list was difficult to narrow down, but I think I’ve got something for everyone. There’s definitely more where this all came from and I’m excited to continue posting about everything books.

For my (first) ~must reads~ I wanted to pick the books that I find the most compelling choices for anyone and everyone. If you’re looking for a new read, here are 15 titles and blurbs explaining why they’re worthy of your time.

I made sure to create this little notebook attachment if you want to save it for when you hit the bookstore (;

  ✽ I couldn’t make a list of my must reads without including this. Hands down one of my absolute favorites. In Americanah, you’ll meet Ifemelu – a student leaving university strikes in Nigeria for university in the US. As she grapples with her new life in the States, she starts what soon becomes a very popular blog illustrating the differences of being black in Africa and being black in the States. Throughout the book you’ll also follow Ifemelu’s school sweetheart, Obinze, and their stories together, apart, and… well you’ll see.

✽ Not too much to say here, because who hasn’t heard of Frankenstein. Of all of the assigned readings throughout school, this one has always been my favorite. There’s something about gothic literature that has a special place for me – all the dark spooky drama, I love it. I feel like everyone knows about Frankenstein, but hasn’t necessarily read the book so here’s a little nudge.

✽ Whether you’re looking for a quick read, an aesthetically pleasing page-turner, a cool artsy graphic novel for your shelves – this one is perfect. Cartoonist Barbara Stok’s Vincent van Gogh addition to the collection of autobiographical Art Series novels is super cool and worth checking out.

✽ If you’re in the mood to read something fascinating, you won’t want to put this down. In Brain on Fire you’ll hear the telling of Susannah’s mysterious true story as she recounts the frightening events as she rapidly descends in to madness and what it takes to work out her life-saving diagnosis.

✽ When I first really wanted to start making a habit out of reading, I was after something that would really make me feel something. I didn’t think it was possible for me to really laugh or cry when I read a book. Long books seemed like things that wouldn’t hold my attention for very long – I’d probably get bored and forget to finish it. Then I heard about A Little Life. This book had me on an emotional rollercoaster. I didn’t just cry, I was weeping by the time I finished it. I really got invested in Jude and his three best friend’s stories. Some of the scenes in this book are pretty traumatic and aren’t for the faint of heart so proceed with caution.

✽ Hotel Silence is an Icelandic novel about Jónas who’s at a point in his life where he feels unfulfilled, like there’s really nothing left to live for. When he decides to leave everything behind and do something about it, he reaches Hotel Silence where he finds reasons to keep going. I picked this up initially intrigued by the cover and finished it really appreciating the story and the message it left me with.

✽ This book turned my life upside down. I had heard plenty about Girls to the Front prior to finally picking it up. The Riot Grrrl movement was revolutionary in itself, but reading in to Bikini Kill, Heavens to Betsy, Bratmobile, Sleater-Kinney, and more really inspired me. Maybe it was good timing, but this book really helped me put things in to perspective.

✽ Pretend I’m Dead is one of the weirdest books I think I have in this mix. I never really jumped at this book on my shelf. It was another one of those that I picked up because I thought it looked pretty cool and the blurb on the back seemed interesting enough. This book is strange in all the right ways. You’ll meet 24-year-old Mona, who cleans houses and volunteers at a needle exchange. Throughout the book we meet different people that help Mona find her place in the world. This one is purely entertaining from start to finish.

✽ The hype surrounding this book checks out. Normally I’m not a huge fan of stories that follow families through the generations, but this one proved me wrong. In Homegoing, we follow two Ghanaian sisters as they’re separated at birth and brought up in different villages. One sister will marry into a fortunate, luxurious life in the Cape Coast Castle and the other will be imprisoned in the same castle – ultimately sold into slavery. Through eight generations you’ll read of “slavery’s troubled legacy both for those who were taken and those who stayed [and] how the memory of captivity has been inscribed on the soul of our nation.”

✽ If I didn’t already love Carrie Brownstein watching Portlandia, Hunger Makes Me a Modern Girl made me idolize her even more. Following Girls to the Front, I’ve become increasingly fascinated by all of the women in music throughout the nineties and early two thousands. Reading about Carrie’s experiences in music and her many words of wisdom made this book hard to put down. I would highly recommend this book to anyone in the mood for a really great music memoir.

✽ Speaking of music memoirs, Girl in a Band is Kim Gordon’s. It seems like the music memoirs I gravitate toward kick off at some sort of an end for the person who wrote it (this one being Sonic Youth’s final show). However, Kim takes us back to her childhood in the sixties/seventies – to the NYC art scene – Sonic Youth – to her marriage and split with Thurston Moore – motherhood – Body/Head – and more. Tons of familiar names are dropped in this one which make it all the more interesting.

✽ Next, the first and admittedly only manga I’ve ever read – Solanin. This was recommended to me as a music/band/gig lover. Reflecting back on it, this book is totally relatable and thoroughly enjoyable. You’ll meet Meiko who felt stuck in her day job, so she quits in hopes for something more. She convinces her boyfriend to do the same and start up his old band which she inevitably joins. This book will be a pleasure to read because I feel we all have been in the same spot as Meiko sometime in our life. Definitely a manga that showed me no genre is off limits.

✽ I found myself contemplatively stopping multiple times with Too Much and Not the Mood. Durga Chew-Bose’s writing really creatively inspired me and my writing. It’s the sort of book that made me feel really close to the author, like we were akin to each other. A lot of things really made sense in this one and I didn’t want it to end. It’s hard to really go in to detail with a collection of essays, but each essay had something notable to offer. Even if you don’t necessarily relate to what Durga has to say – I love this book so much I would recommend it to anyone.

  Saving some of the best for last – I have two favorites by Robin Sloan. I completely feel his writing would be enjoyable for anyone. I normally don’t really gravitate toward fantasy or magic-filled books, but these two are exactly the kind of magical realism I can immerse myself in. Everything that takes place in both stories are more imaginatively entertaining than a far-fetched reach into make-believe. Both are situated in the Bay Area (San Fransisco/Silicon Valley), which was bonus points for me because I always fantasize living around there.

Mr. Penumbra follows an out-of-work Clay Jannon as he picks up the night shift job at an eccentric bookstore with some curious clientele with rather bizarre purchasing patterns. Clay is inclined to track these books and ultimately uncovers something even more mysterious. Sourdough is about exactly what the title and this cover infer – sourdough bread. Lois Clary is your typical nine to fiver working for a robotics company – exhausted by the time she gets home. She begins to frequently order from a neighborhood restaurant with a delivery service and becomes well-acquainted with the operating brothers. With visa complications, the brothers of Clement Street Soup and Sourdough have to close shop and entrust Lois with their sourdough starter. Once Lois starts baking loaves and loaves of bread, everything begins to change as her life of technology and food begin to merge.

Ultimately, if you’re looking for a safe and cozy feel-good book to tuck in to and enjoy from start to finish – I’d argue either of these two are the way to go.

Whew, putting this together seemed like I was biting off a little more than I could chew for a bit. I really wanted to make it apparent why I enjoyed each title I mentioned here without plainly saying “HEY! I liked this and I think you would too!” BECAUSE GENUINELY I think you might too! Later on I want to try and take note of what I really enjoyed in books moving forward and writing this all out for you helped me realize why.

When reading a book I’m easily captivated and I think sometimes I spend a lot of time relishing in the luxury of it; but I realize now that really expanding on why and recording my thoughts will help me improve my explanations looking back on them. A lot of the time someone will ask me what book they should read so I’ll give them a title and forget the specifics of why I loved it so much. It’s easy to remember that I liked a book because it triggered an emotional response or I blew through it or I was in awe at points – BUT moving forward just know that I’m ready to deep dive in to some more books when it’s time.

Let me know down below what books you love

or your thoughts on any of these!

my must reads In 2019, I want to bring more books to the blog! For starters, it's about time I compiled a list of some of my personal favorites that I think everyone should read.

[buddaimond]

Excerpts regarding “High Life”, highlighted parts about Rob, meeting with André Benjamin (another cast of High Life), opps a little spoiler of High Life, BTS of shooting High Life in Cologne, quotes from the producer Andrew Lauren, words from Olivier Assayas about Claire Denis, and words from Des Hamilton :

“High Life,” which cost millions more to make than any of Denis’s previous films, seems, on its surface, dramatically divergent from the rest of her body of work, yet versions of its premise swirled inside Denis’s mind for more than a decade. For years, she had wanted to tell the story of the last person in the world. In the film, the galactic convicts perish one by one. Only a single felon survives, along with his daughter, who was born on the spaceship. (Olafur Eliasson, the Danish-Icelandic conceptual artist who a decade ago erected waterfalls in the East River, designed the spaceship for the movie.) Their relationship—literally forged in a vacuum, with a whiff of the taboo—was her primary interest in the story. “It’s feminine and masculine,” Denis said. “It’s family blood but it’s not the same sex.”

The script, which Denis wrote with her longtime screenwriter, Jean-Pol Fargeau, took years to complete. (Zadie Smith and Nick Laird worked on a draft that Denis ultimately rejected.) Though Denis treats scripts as provisional and merely suggestive documents, hers are full of vivid sensory detail. When “High Life” ’s main character, played by Robert Pattinson, is introduced, he is “pressed against the exterior of the spaceship, like a mountain climber against a sheer cliff face.” Later, when he changes out of his spacesuit, he does so “like a knight removing armor.”

Denis saw Pattinson in “Twilight,” she said, and was struck by his “heartrending charisma.” She had wanted someone older for “High Life”—she thought at one point of Philip Seymour Hoffman—but after meeting with Pattinson in Los Angeles and Paris she realized that “he was already in the film.” She went on, “When he said to me, ‘Are you sure?’ I said, ‘It’s already too late. It’s you or nobody else.’ ” She chose “High Life” ’s other stars, including Juliette Binoche and the English model and actress Mia Goth, with similarly instinctual possessiveness. In the summer of 2015, Denis and her producer, Oliver Dungey, flew to Atlanta to meet André Benjamin, the rapper, actor, producer, adroit hat-wearer, and all-around cultural icon, better known by his stage name, André 3000, and for his flamboyant role in the Atlanta hip-hop duo OutKast. Denis had enjoyed Benjamin’s lead performance in “All Is by My Side,” a 2014 biopic of Jimi Hendrix, and she had got it in her mind that he should play a part in “High Life.”

The three had agreed to meet at the St. Regis Hotel’s restaurant for lunch. “Here we are,” Dungey recalled, “me—this sort of posh, square English guy—and Claire—this scorny French lady—and in walks André.” Benjamin said, “I’ll be honest with you. I don’t know who you are or what you want, but everyone is telling me I have to meet with you and I’ve got to do this film.”

“They immediately hit it off,” Dungey said. “I’m just sitting there, picking at grits. The purpose of the trip was accomplished within thirty seconds.”

The only other people in the restaurant were two Gambian ladies visiting from, of all places, the Cotswolds. “Why were they there?” Dungey said. “I don’t know. But, then again, why were we there?

“Claire and André were talking about eating snake,” he continued. He shrugged in a manner that suggested his exclusion from the conversation had been so profound as to be painless. “Claire was saying how it gives you this vitality, this life force. And one of these women from Gambia turns around and says, ‘She’s right!’ ”

Moments later, a statuesque woman arrived. “She waltzes in and apparently knows André,” Dungey said. “She hugs him, asks how he’s been, blah, blah, blah. This woman looks fantastic: she has ribbons in her hair, lots of beads, she’s colorfully dressed. André introduces her to us as Dana.” Here Dungey paused, smiled, and shook his head. “This is not Dana. This is Queen Latifah.

“Claire is obviously taken with this woman while having no idea who she is. She just kept telling her she looked like a queen,” he continued. (Denis insists that she was well aware of Dana’s identity.) “The ladies from Gambia know who she is, though, and they also know who André is, and they ask for a photo. Queen Latifah ended up paying for all our lunches without saying anything.”

Dungey added, “It was really one of the most charming and weird moments of my entire life.”

........

Similarly, in “High Life,” some of the convicts are black, but they are not a message-telegraphing majority. When the film’s American producers read the script, they urged Denis to change the fact that the first character to die was a black man. In the U.S. today, they told her, this was just not done. For Americans, Denis said, the problem of racism “is buried so deep. For me, it was not deep.” She refused to change the plot, writing in more dialogue instead. In the final version, André Benjamin’s character says, “See? Even in outer space, the black ones are the first to die.”

.......

With “High Life,” Denis will inevitably receive more international attention than she ever has, but for years many filmmakers have spoken of her as a sort of secret saint

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“It’s such a macho, minimalist film,” said Andrew Lauren, one of the producers of “High Life” and its financier, who saw “Beau Travail” years ago, on the recommendation of his father, the designer Ralph Lauren. “When this new project came to us, and I went back through Denis’s filmography, I was, like, ‘Wait, she did “Beau Travail”?’ I would have sworn that a man made it. She’s like the precursor to Kathryn Bigelow.”

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Unlike Denis’s past movies, which were shot on location, mostly in France and Africa, “High Life” was largely filmed at a studio in Cologne, during two months last fall. The cast and Denis stayed at a hotel thirty minutes away. The drive, made each morning and night—often with a P.A. behind the wheel who was described to me as “the worst driver in the history of mankind”—took them past oil refineries, sausage factories, and tractor-trailer bordellos that were parked, with German efficiency, along the highway exits.

By all reports, it was a trying experience. Denis was unused to filming in a studio. She made scene changes constantly and with little warning, sometimes by text message. Benjamin described an atmosphere of inadvertent method acting. “These convicts are all supposed to be from different places—they don’t know one another at first, and they’re just trying to make it,” he said. “And, on set, it was the same! I’m this guy from Atlanta, Claire’s French, obviously, most of the guys on set are German, the actors didn’t know each other. It was a trip.” Robert Pattinson, who, several people said, spent much of his time on set asking existential questions—Wait, who am I in this movie? What are we making here?—told me, “It’s a very abstract way of working. It feels like experimental theatre, frankly.”

Lauren said, “A lot of people were thinking, This is good for my résumé, but I wish I weren’t here.” He continued, “I think, if you make a movie with Claire, you can make any movie.” He compared the process to over-preparing for the SATs, or training at high altitudes, so that your performance at sea level feels easier on game day. At an early color-test screening, held at an ornate theatre in Cologne, Denis’s voice was the only one in the room, saying, “Merde! Crap! What are we doing? Why am I here?” Lauren said he thought “everyone sort of took it personally.”

At the end of each day, the cast and crew convened at the hotel bar. “Everyone would sort of be sitting at different parts of the bar, and she’d walk in and it was, like, Shit! Claire’s here!” Lauren recalled. “I saw a lot of people wanting to leave many, many times, but they stayed. They stay because they love her—even though they can’t stand her.”

Denis does not deny such behavior. “I can be the worst person, the meanest person on a set,” she said. “Shouting, screaming, complaining. I don’t have a lot of respect for myself as a director. People accept me the way I am, because they know I’m not faking. Probably.”

When I described these accounts to the filmmaker Olivier Assayas, a close friend of Denis’s, he laughed. “There’s a certain form of chaos in the way she works,” he said. “When you make movies, it’s always disturbing how confident everyone involved is that they know how things should be done. And you have to constantly remind them, No, you don’t know how it’s done, I don’t know how it’s done, nobody knows how it’s done. You create chaos as a way of destabilizing the surroundings that could bring you to make something that would otherwise be conventional.”

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Hamilton (casting director)recalled witnessing the initial meeting between Denis and Pattinson, in Los Angeles, and feeling like “these are two people on a date, and I really shouldn’t be here, maybe I should actually remove myself?” With obvious pride, Denis recounted how Pattinson took the train from London to visit her in Paris. “He came to me like a friend,” she told me. “You know, in London, Robert has to hide because of girls?” (A representative for Pattinson said, “He doesn’t hide from anyone.”)

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