#which isn’t that much grand scheme but my god i am just CONSTANTLY worrying at the skin it’s so frustrating

[macroglossus]

ordered a fidget toy because my nail/cuticle picking has really gotten out of hand the past few months and i’m constantly a little worried about infection but it gets here in two weeks 😓

[lightsupinthenorth]

Damn it, I’m calling you mine

Read on AO3

*

When Alternate-Mobius (as Loki has taken to calling the Mobius from this timeline in his head) comes to get him out of his cell and lead him to one of the interrogation rooms for the umpteenth time in however long it is he has been stuck in this cursed timeline, Loki lets himself be dragged there without protesting.

Protesting got old fairly quickly, considering it accomplished nothing at all. It doesn’t even get on the nerves of the TVA agents and hunters as it did in the timeline Loki left against his will.

Alternate-Mobius’ grip on his forearm is firm, firmer than it usually is. As if he were afraid Loki was going to make a run for it. As if Loki were stupid enough to think it would be of any use, after all this time. Loki would be insulted if he could muster enough energy for such an emotion.

As soon as they’re inside the interrogation room, Alternate-Mobius locks the door behind them. That’s new, too. Loki’s eyebrows raise slightly, but Loki doesn’t question Alternate-Mobius. What is even the point? He’ll know soon enough what the man is trying to do. Probably.

Alternate-Mobius fiddles with his TemPad for a few seconds and a familiar orange portal opens in front of them.

“Follow me.”

Loki nods, ready to obey, but Alternate-Mobius doesn’t move. Instead, he opts to stare at Loki with a frown on his face.

“Really? You’d follow me just like that? You’re not even going to question it?”

It’s Loki’s turn to frown. Why would Alternate-Mobius ask such a useless question? Has he yet to register how Loki’s fire has died out ages ago?

He shrugs.

“Okay then, let’s go…”

Loki swears he hears Alternate-Mobius mumble “what the fuck have they done to him?”, but he doesn’t have time to think about it any further before he’s pulled by Alternate-Mobius through the time-portal.

Before Loki can blink, he’s in a living-room with Alternate-Mobius by his side. All he can focus on apart from that is his own confusion.

He hadn’t known what to expect, but he hadn’t been expecting something this benign.

“Where are we?”

“Oh, so you still have some questions then. Thank God, you had me worried for a second over there.”

Loki, instead of unpacking what Alternate(?)-Mobius just said, glares at him until he relents.

“We’re at my flat, it’s a long story, I’ll explain everything later. First, tell me if you’re okay.”

His gaze travels the length of Loki’s body, as if he’s assessing damage, and then he’s staring right into his eyes. Maybe he’s searching for the damage in his soul, then. There’s a lot to find, without a doubt.

The concern that radiates off of the man brings a realisation to life in Loki.

“Mobius?”

Of course, it’s Mobius. Alternate-Mobius is also Mobius. But what Loki is really asking is “are you my Mobius?” Because that’s how he thinks of the first version of Mobius he got to meet. He can’t ask that, though. Mobius couldn’t possibly react to such blatant (and misplaced) possessiveness in a positive manner.

“Yes.”

Loki wants to take the simple answer at face value, but he has to be sure. He has to be sure he’s got this right. He couldn’t cope if he accepted this as true only to have his fragile hope ripped away from him later.

Sylvie betrayed him, sending him to an alternate timeline where everything that had become familiar to him at the TVA was here and not here at the same time. It had been torture. Especially seeing Alternate-Mobius constantly. The other version of Mobius only served to remind Loki of what – of whom – he had lost.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

It’s not comfortable, being on this side of lies. Loki has a lot of experience as a liar and as the one being lied to. He far prefers the first configuration, it has to be said.

“What would I gain by taking you here and lying about which version of me I am?”

“Seriously Mobius, now is not the time to answer a question with another question.”

Loki is dead on his feet. He cannot fathom how he manages to stay standing. He fears it will not last much longer.

“I… I don’t know. Ask me something only your Mobius would know.”

Loki blinks a few times, trying to come to terms with this Mobius (whichever he is) saying “your Mobius” like this. Like it’s easy. Like it’s an evidence.

It turns out that Loki worried for nothing, earlier, when he kept himself from asking if this Mobius was his.

After a small eternity, Loki focuses on Mobius’ request instead of on this insignificant (but not for him) detail.

“How did we find out Sylvie was hiding in Haven Hills, Alabama?”

Loki could have asked Mobius a lot of things, but this question seems like a good option. No one knows about this but them. Loki doubts Mobius put it in the reports or mentioned it to anyone, because it’s just a detail, a clue that led them to Sylvie. It doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. But Loki remembers it, and he’d bet his Mobius would too. The elation they felt when they reached their goal is not something that can be forgotten easily, after all. At least, Loki hopes not.

“We found out because you’re clever and we make a great team, but I don’t see how that’s gonna convince you I’m your Mobius.”

Loki feels winded by Mobius’ words. The praise, the acknowledgment of their partnership, and the “your Mobius” (for the second time in a matter of minutes). However, he can’t let himself lose his focus.

“That’s very nice of you to compliment me, and we do make a rather spectacular team. But I’m asking you about the clue which led us to the right location.”

“Oh, you mean Kablooie?”

As soon as Loki registers the words, his knees buckle and he might have fallen down if Mobius weren’t there to steady him. He extends his arms and Loki instantly grabs them. His heart is beating so fast he’d fear a heart attack if he were human.

“It’s really you.”

Loki hears his own voice crack with relief, and his eyes fill with tears.

“It’s really me.”

Loki didn’t need the confirmation, but it is so on brand for Mobius to give it to him anyway that Loki gets the impulse to throw his arms around him and bury his face in his neck. He tries to resist the impulse for a mere second before giving up entirely and engulfing his Mobius in a (perhaps overly) tight hug.

Mobius wraps his arms around Loki in return, hugging him back. That’s when the tears begin to fall in earnest. Before he knows it, Loki is sobbing uncontrollably in Mobius’ embrace. It’s most undignified and he’s probably ruining Mobius’ shirt, but Loki’s too far gone to care. Anyway, Mobius has seen most of his life when he was working for the TVA, and Loki’s done his fair share of embarrassing things. This is not the worst one, by far.

Being vulnerable is still difficult for him, but he has no control over himself right now, so vulnerability is the only way to go.

*

Mobius has an armful of crying god, and he’s taking it in stride if he does say so himself. He’s been looking for Loki for so long, he’s been through so much to find him that he’s prepared to accept anything Loki throws at him now that they’re finally reunited.

“There, there. It’s going to be okay now.”

Mobius continues to whisper reassurances in Loki’s ear until Loki’s sobs subside. Mobius is loath to break their embrace, but they can’t possibly stay like this much longer considering Loki has looked on the verge of keeling over ever since he got up from the floor of his cell. When he saw him, Mobius had to make a conscious effort to reign in a gasp (the hunters guarding Loki’s cell would have found that mightily suspicious coming from the Mobius he was then pretending to be). Loki is thinner, there are bags under his eyes, and his skin has taken a blueish tint which, rather than being reminiscent of his origins, looks sickly. Now that Loki’s finally safe, Mobius wants nothing more than to take care of him and nurse him back to health.

“We should probably sit down. Would that be alright?”

Mobius can feel Loki nod, but Loki makes no move to separate himself from him.

Okay. Mobius can work around that.

He slowly walks them to the couch without letting go of Loki. They fall on it rather gracelessly, and Loki immediately rearranges himself so he’s lying down with his head face down on Mobius’ lap and one of his hand gripping his knee. He wishes Loki would let him see his face, but it certainly isn’t the time for requests.

Mobius passes the fingers of his left hand through Loki’s messy hair and Loki shivers against him.

“Is this okay?”

Loki’s only reply is a hum. Mobius interprets it as acquiescence, so he repeats the motion again, and again, and again. To comfort himself as much as Loki.

“Do you want something to drink? Or eat?”

Loki’s grip on Mobius’ knee tightens and he whimpers. Mobius’ stomach drops.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”

“I… I’m fine. Just… can we stay here for a while?” Loki’s voice is hoarse and tentative, as if he were expecting Mobius to turn him down. As if it were a credible outcome. Preposterous.

“Of course, anything you want. But, please let me know if you need anything else, alright?”

Loki hums again, and Mobius goes back to playing with his hair.

*

It must be hours before either of them speaks again. Loki’s turned around by now, so he’s facing Mobius while still resting his head on his lap.

“Do you have a bathtub?”

“I do.”

“I could go for a bath… But…”

He’s reluctant to voice his desires. He’s been attached to Mobius as a barnacle to a rock for longer than he can tell, and Mobius must be tired of him by now. Maybe he’s been tired during this entire display of neediness and has only tolerated it for Loki’s sake. Mobius is decent enough that it doesn’t sound particularly far-fetched.

“But what? Go on.”

“Would you… would you mind staying with me while I’m in the bath?”

“Sure.”

Mobius looks unphased, but Loki still needs to ask:

“Are you sure it’s no bother? I know I’m being clingy and…”

Mobius interrupts him:

“Rest assured, you’re only the one clinging to me because you beat me to it. I don’t want to be apart from you anymore than you want to be apart from me.”

Loki frowns, as if facing a puzzle he can’t quite solve.

“Really?”

“Of course. Why do you think I looked for you for months?”

And it makes sense, from an objective point of view. It’s a wonder Loki can’t wrap his head around it.

“Oh” is all he has to say.

“Yeah, oh.”

Loki will wonder later how exactly Mobius managed to rescue him. He’s not strong enough to deal with that conversation at the moment.

“Come on, let’s get that bath running.” Mobius says, sitting up straighter.

Loki gets the message and pulls himself up. He only loses physical contact with Mobius for a handful of seconds before he reaches for his hand and slide his fingers between Mobius’.

They walk to the bathroom hand in hand and Mobius only lets go when Loki has to undress. Mobius looks away until he’s in the bath, hidden by the bubbles. It’s a sweet, if useless (Mobius probably saw Loki naked in countless occurrences on the TVA tapes), gesture.

Loki would ask Mobius to join him if he had the courage. He can’t find it in himself. He’s been bold enough as it is. Besides, it would definitely cross the line. To be honest with himself, he’s not sure this line exists anymore, but he ought to pretend it still does. For Mobius’ sake, if not for his own.

“Can I wash your hair?”

The prospect of Mobius’ gentle hands back in his hair is a pleasant one, to say the least. So, Loki immerses himself in the bath to wet his hair and comes back up, before replying:  

“Please, be my guest”, trying for a teasing smile that probably comes out looking wrong.

*

Mobius returns Loki’s fond smile, relieved to finally see a positive emotion displayed on this beautiful face.

He grabs his bottle of shampoo from the edge of the bathtub and squeezes some of it into his palm. It’s cheap stuff, with a cheap artificial apple scent. Surely not up to Loki’s standards. However, Mobius doesn’t reckon he’ll care after his forced stay in the Alternate-TVA.

When he starts rubbing the shampoo into Loki’s hair, Loki shivers again, and then moans. Mobius puts the reaction in a corner of his brain so he can examine it later. It might be a thing.

Mobius takes his time (which is to say, he takes far more time than is necessary), before he finally requests:

“Bend forward and close your eyes for me, please.”

Loki complies without a second thought, and warmth spread inside Mobius at the display of trust.

“Good boy.” Mobius says it without thinking, as he’s reaching for the hand shower.

Loki tenses up, and Mobius instantly regrets the words. They’re out, though, there’s no calling them back.

Thankfully, before Mobius can go into a full-blown panic caused by his own stupidity, Loki relaxes again, even though his breathing is now laboured.

That’s quite a lot to unpack there. Mobius will make sure to come back to it in the future. Until then, he focuses on rinsing Loki’s hair without making a mess. He then wrings the excess water out of it as gently as he can and grabs a towel from the rack attached to the wall.

He hands it to Loki and looks away again to give him some semblance of privacy. He hears Loki get up and say:

“It’s okay, you can look. I don’t mind.”

Mobius should decline, but he’s too weak. It’s so hard to not keep his eyes on Loki constantly when he has just got him back.

So, Mobius looks at him, and instantly notices Loki’s lower torso is covered in bruises. They’re stark against Loki’s skin, which is now back to its usual paleness, sans blueish tint.

Mobius must have visibly reacted, though he’s not aware of it, because Loki takes a glance down his own body and flinches.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think…”

“Don’t apologize. Not for that.”

Loki’s mouth clicks shut.

*

Once Loki’s dressed in a T-shirt and sweatpants (both black, thankfully) that he borrowed from Mobius, he brushes his teeth with a spare toothbrush.

Then, Mobius manages to talk him into eating something and having a cup of herbal tea (camomile), even though it ruins the point of the aforementioned toothbrushing.

What would he not do to appease Mobius and keep him from worrying? Loki prefers not to know.

They retire to bed soon after that, tangling together under Mobius’ fluffy comforter. Loki’s about to fall asleep, lulled by the repetitive motion of Mobius’ fingers running lines on his back, when Mobius speaks:

“I… I know I should let you rest before broaching this topic but… I won’t be able to think about anything else all night if I don’t ask…”

Loki’s tempted to tell him to spit it out, but he refrains, letting Mobius continue at his own rhythm.

“The other me… is he the one who, you know… the bruises?”

“No. He wasn’t particularly nice, but he was never outright cruel to me.” That much could not be said about many other agents of the Alternate-TVA, but Loki refuses to get into that. “Nevertheless, he was… wrong in so many ways.”

Mobius’ hand stops moving up and down his back.

“How so?”

“He was... different. He hated Josta, he didn’t care about jet skis, he was right-handed… He was cold, warier of me than you were, and a bigger stickler for the rules. He… he just wasn’t you.”

His Mobius was everything this other Mobius wasn’t to Loki. He was trustworthy. He brought him hope. Because he had seen Loki, he knew almost everything that could be known about him, and still he believed he could be someone good. The other Mobius had not witnessed any of Loki’s numerous lies and betrayals, and still he trusted him far less than his Mobius did despite every piece of evidence proving he should not.

Loki can’t comprehend the undeserved trust Mobius has for him, but he is grateful it exists.

“He sounds like a jackass.”

Loki lets out a teary laugh.

“He was. Thank you for rescuing me from him.”

“You’re very welcome. I needed it as much as you did, anyway.”

“You’ll tell me how you did it, right? Tomorrow?”

“Anything you want”, Mobius says for the second time that day.

And, by the Norns, does Loki want. He wants so much.

He raises his head from Mobius chest and places his lips on his. He keeps it brief, pulling back before Mobius has time to react. The line is crossed, annihilated. What can Loki say? He’s never been good at denying himself what he wants.

“Was that okay?”

Mobius exhales slowly, his body going lax after tensing up from the surprise.

“More than.”

“Good.”

They stop talking, then. Loki falls asleep in a matter of minutes, hopeful for the first time since Sylvie pushed him through a time-portal to get rid of him. Things are still a mess, but there’s a slight chance they’re going to be fine and, for now, that’s enough.

*

Thanks for reading ;

[ask-artsy-oncie]

So I’m kinda in a meh/apathetic headspace in regards to my mental health right now. Maybe it would be best to just let some thoughts out. 

Firstly, I do want to apologize for making stupid, borderline inflammatory posts and throwing them out there onto tumblr dot com, I know that’s never the best course of action. However, I really, really do not appreciate anons sending vague “are you okay”s at me. If you’re not close enough to me where you can’t PM me (relatively) face-to-face, then I really wouldn’t like random inquiries about my mental health from you. Maybe it’s just because I don’t 100% trust anons (I’ve been here for a decade, I’ve seen some shit, can you really blame me?) but I think I ought to make myself clear on that. Are we clear on that? cool. 

I don’t know... I’ve felt so lost and tired recently, moreso than usual.

I’ve always had a massive complex about annoying people, being too self-indulgent, not having good ideas or opinions or what-have-you. People who have known me for a while almost definitely know that. I don’t think it all necessarily exists in a vacuum, either I have a genuinely hard time coming up with objectively good ideas. Sometimes I’m just straight-up “head empty” mode. I’m also often really opinionated and sometimes intend to die on hills that people aren’t really meant to die on (or are even necessarily worth dying on). I can get way too wrapped up on meaningless things because my brain is too hyperfocused on this one thing, or maybe something I rely too heavily on for comfort is... I don’t know how to put it.... put at risk? Challenged? I have a lot of mental issues and real life issues, though I’m not claiming to be massively oppressed or anything, but I tend to cling to comforts a little too desperately. And I’m not just talking about like. Media. Just comforts in general. Sometimes I’ll spend too much of the day laying in bed. Sometimes I cling to old relationships or old forms of relationships or I constantly worry about the day I’ll inevitably no longer have the same relationships I have now. 

I’ve known I needed therapy for a while now. I’m waitlisted and everything, but I need to go about actually choosing a therapist to see and I’ve been dragging my feet on that so I guess that’s my bad. I’ll get to it. Shit’s overwhelming, yknow? 

Anyways I know I have a lot of these flaws and problems and I think my horrible anxieties about being too annoying and whatnot is just a really extreme form of self-reflection. Maybe. Not entirely sure. Maybe a therapist could tell me.

I get way too passionate, way too easily, and it’s almost always followed by a super intense period of shame, like, to the point where I’m desperate to isolate myself and destroy my relationships with other people, because then at least I’m actually trying to destroy a relationship by being a bad person, rather than someone leaving me for... I don’t know, being too happy? Caring too much? Talking too much? Just. Shit I have less control over. 

I’ve tried putting a cap on it, suppressing everything. Trying not to indulge too much, trying not to be so happy and talkative, straight-up deleting messages I think might be too annoying the second I send them. Trying to be inoffensive through being unnoticeable. I’m trying to do that now, honestly. It’s why I joked about deleting my blog. All it does is hurt and make me go fucking nuts because I’m bottling up a lot in doing that, I know. I’m just not fully convinced I don’t just deserve to feel that way.

There are a lot of points in my life where I’m convinced that my best course of action in succeeding or keeping people from being put-off by me is to just sit down and shut up and draw what I’m told to draw. To just completely lose my agency in drawing. It makes sense, when you feel like you don’t have any good ideas of your own, you just illustrate others’. And there are many, many points where I have done this out of a place of love. Fuck, most of what I’ve drawn for Lolly’s writing has come out of a place of genuine love, not just for her work, but for her. A lot of what I’ve drawn for Bethany (for any REAL long-time followers reading this) has been like that, too. But there are also points where it honestly just feels like my only purpose is to be a tool through which others may visualize their whims. That if I dare inject too much of myself into things, they’ll be permanently ruined. And then there’s the shame I feel in having wanted to impart a piece of myself into a work - a demerit for being too selfish or self-important to deem my whims anywhere near good or important enough to be included. 

I have so many ideas. So many opinions and thoughts and feelings and genuine insight that I’ve suppressed or deleted because I either feel like that’s what’s expected of me, or I’m straight-up told that my thoughts and opinions are bad and wrong. Like. Fuck me for having opinions on animated media levels of being shut-down. And you know, I’ve noticed something in the past decade of being an insufferable opinionated prick about things like that - that it’s actually easier for me to enjoy media when I’m allowed to be negative and critical of it. When I am allowed to just share my thoughts. And I don’t mean like, without being disagreed with, I mean like, in an environment where I’m made to feel like I actually can share these thoughts. When I can pinpoint and analyze what I didn’t like or what made me upset, it can be a lot easier for me to then move on and be able to focus on aspects that I genuinely do like. Like, holy fuck, it is SO much easier for me to pick-and-choose aspects of a certain sequel film that I actually like and feel comfortable saying I like than it was for me to do with the original, because I no longer have an incredibly toxic person in my life (or at least, in my life as much).

But that doesn’t mean I haven’t had this kind of experience since then, like. There are STILL things I struggle to move past because I have been made to feel like I just can’t fucking talk about them without being insufferable (sorry if I’m overusing that word - it just feels like the best word the feeling I’m trying to describe) or just straight-up ruining something for someone I care about. Keeping shit like this in does crazy shit to me, for real, and there’s still a large part of me that tells me “Fuck you. Suck it up. None of this shit matters.” Y’know? Because in the grand scheme of things, I know it doesn’t. And then there’s the shame that comes from having cared so much in the first place. It’s a fucking cycle. There’s some shit that’s just irreparable ruined for me because of this and that SUCKS.

I don’t like losing comforts. Fuck, I hate it, really. And I’m not talking about new comforts coming along and catching my attention as an old comfort begins to wane, I’m talking like. Destroying relationships, feeling SO MUCH shame surrounding a comfort media that it’s too difficult to enjoy it no matter how hard I try, or having too hard of a time disassociating a comfort with a horrible event or person. And it’s feeling like at LEAST one of these is starting to happen to me again and Good Gods it’s just. It’s so terrifying. 

But who do I tell? When my primary worry is annoying or offending or hurting people? Y’know? I can’t just vent to one single person to this all the time, that isn’t fair. But it gets to a point where my brain tells me “No, you can’t talk to ANYONE about this because that’s rude and wrong and a true friend wouldn’t do that. There’s a reason why you can make any number of concerning posts, messages, private ramblings, whatever, and the people you’re closest to won’t ask you what’s wrong.” 

And, yeah, honestly, I do think it’s true that the people I consider my closest friends won’t read this. I actually don’t believe the average person will read this, or at least get this far. I genuinely do just talk too much and it’s a lot for most people to deal with. Otherwise, I talk too little, and probably enter the “you should be able to read my MIND” level of expectations, which, of course, isn’t far. I understand, I swear I do, it just takes some time to come to terms with every time I get wrapped up in my stupid mental stuff. And I also promise that I try to give these people the same kind of response I want, y’know? I try to look out for any worrying behavior and try to offer an ear and help in any way that I can. I don’t think expecting the same in return is fair, I just worry about any of them being like me, and I’m willing to play to that if it’s necessary. I’ll break quiet streaks for that shit, y’know?

Honestly, these stupid quiet streaks are probably more unbearable for me than they are even noticeable for most people. It sucks. I just wish my mind was normal so I A) wouldn’t have these insecurities to begin with, because B) I would never end up exhibiting the behavior to warrant such insecurities.

There’s so much shit I want to talk about, to analyze, or explore, that I want to share with the world, or at least with people I love, that I probably never will because my stupid brain has already decided that all this stupid shit is better kept to myself where it can rot and be forgotten eventually. Which is fine, in the grand scheme of things, I guess, because I functionally have never really been the guy who comes up with ideas (at least, good ideas) I’m just the pencil, the one who I guess makes things visual? I can’t even bring myself to say “I bring the ideas to life” because that’s pretentious and untrue. These ideas are already alive because they come from brilliant minds. 

I don’t even think it’s fair for me to call myself a character designer unless the characters are my own. Otherwise, I’m just following the directions of a much more competent conceptualizer (there’s a reason my characters barely have any... well, character). That’s the reason why I removed my unearned credit as the character designer for Ty from Swindle’s description, because I really don’t deserve that kind of credit. It’s why the asks about the designing process of Ty have been left unanswered, because, fuck, what do I even say? “I just did what Lolly told me to do, just like I did with all of Swindle. Please don’t give me that kind of credit, I know I falsely ascribed it to myself earlier, and I want to rectify that”? I guess I could have, actually, now that I’m typing this. But people always get fucking upset with me when I try not to take credit, even when it’s shit that isn’t mine!! So I don’t know what to do!! I don’t know what to fucking do!!! Because I just don’t fucking want to make people upset or unhappy!!!!!!!

I’m sorry, this post is too long and I’ve worked myself up and I’m no longer apathetic. I’m gonna go cry myself to sleep so big win for my complexion, honestly. 

Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. I guess getting this shit out of my system is probably best to do in a big tumblr post no one will read. 

I don’t want anons about this. If I can just ask one thing. Please.

[ouidamforeman]

@bisexualamy Ok! I’ve read all but the last 9 or so EDAs so here are my recommendations on how to get through them. This post will probably be super long because there are so many books but I’ll try to be as straightforward as possible.

So first of all, no matter which ones you decide to read, I do recommend going through them more or less in release order to get the most out of the story and character arcs. I’ve been reading every one in order without skipping anything and it’s mostly been really enjoyable because not many of these books actually suck. However, there are 73 of them so not everyone wants to put in that kind of time and effort. Don’t worry much about skipping around a bit and then going back to fill in the gaps if you want, or just reading the highly recommended ones. If you’re really invested in getting everything, just skimming the wiki pages for books you don’t read should be fine too. That said, here are the ones I recommend definitely not skipping, along with some other suggestions:

-Vampire Science (this is the second book in the series and where most people recommend starting because the first book, even though it introduces a companion, is kind of garbage. Vampire Science, however, is a fan favorite by fan favorite authors.)

-Genocide (this book isn’t extraordinary but it is interesting for its cameos and character development stuff. I feel like recommending it because it’s a good early book for Sam as a companion)

-Alien Bodies (definitely read this one, it’s where the overarching plot really starts picking up and a lot of the series’ important ideas are introduced. Plus it’s amazing.)

-Kursaal and Option Lock are actually pretty good but not absolutely incredible or totally essential, so go ahead and read them if you want a longer list

-Longest Day is.....not memorable but it did give me feelings and it does have an important plot point at the end that kicks off stuff in the next three books. This is one where reading the wiki page should be fine if you don’t want to read the book.

-Seeing I (one of my favorites, it’s so good and it’s one of the earliest EDAs with the intense character stuff carried through later books. Also finishes off the mini-arc started in Longest Day)

-Placebo Effect and Vanderdeken’s Children are fun but not essential

-The Scarlet Empress (another fan favorite you should absolutely not skip. Very beautiful, very interesting worldbuilding, introduces Iris Wildthyme to the range. Easily in my top 5 EDAs)

-The Janus Conjunction is another good one that isn’t necessarily essential, as is Beltempest, but Beltempest is,,,,,,super weird and divisive as far as who likes it. Try them out if you want.

-The Taint (not an outstanding book but I recommend it because it’s Fitz’s introductory story and has a lot of important stuff about him in it)

-Revolution Man is interesting and has some pretty important character stuff in it

-Dominion is another nonessential one but it’s super delightful so I highly recommend it

-Unnatural History (my favorite Doctor Who novel ever. I’m pretty sure everyone would recommend this as a non-skippable book but I’m not exaggerating when I say it Changed Me. It’s so lovely and has very important plot, character, and concept stuff in it, plus. Unicorns.)

-Interference, books 1 and 2 (more essentials, definitely read these not only because they contain a season finale’s equivalent of important plot and characters, but also because they’re amazing and super cool.)

-The Blue Angel (not only am I telling you not to skip this, but I’m begging you to come talk to me about it when you finish it because I am obsessed with this book. It even has a short sequel and a screenplay adaptation, which I also very strongly recommend reading because it’s just. So good. Also I didn’t understand the book until I read the annotated sequel and screenplay and talked to other fans about it so that’s another thing. God this book is a remarkable experience I love it so much.)

-The Taking of Planet 5 (super good book with important lore development)

-Frontier Worlds and Parallel 59 are two more really good and fun ones that aren’t absolutely unskippable

-The Shadows of Avalon (I consider this unskippable but apparently it’s not liked by a lot of people? Either way definitely try this one, I love it and it does have important plot)

-The Fall of Yquatine and Coldheart, two more I think are pretty good but you can skip if you’re overwhelmed

-The Ancestor Cell (not universally liked but makes everyone cry. Essential for its plot and character stuff. Like, major stuff that effects the rest of the series happens here.)

-I recommend at least reading the wiki pages for The Burning and Casualties of War just to understand what’s going on with the series plot arc, but they’re also pretty good books to read in full so you can decide on those

-The Turing Test (dear god this is a good novel, definitely read it and cry with me)

-Endgame is really fun but not quite essential

-I personally hate Father Time but lots of fans really like it and think it’s great, plus it has some important lore, so I recommend at least trying it

-Escape Velocity isn’t outstanding but it is the end of the previous mini plot arc and the introduction of a new companion

-EarthWorld (a very good and solid book! It’s probably ultimately skippable but I don’t recommend doing so because it’s so much fun and the character stuff is wonderful.)

-Eater of Wasps is a delight but not absolutely unskippable

-The Year of Intelligent Tigers (this is one of the fan favorite Doctor Who novels everyone constantly freaks out about, and for good reason. Holy shit. You need to read this. Remarkably beautiful worldbuilding and some of my favorite character work in the range.)

-The City of the Dead (another one of my top 5 EDAs, this book is so funny and atmospheric and fantastic, definitely a highlight of the range. I have more pages of this bookmarked than any other DW novel.)

-Grimm Reality (I’m not going to lie and say this one is essential but it is totally wonderful and I strongly recommend trying it)

-The Adventuress of Henrietta Street (this book is dark and dense and emotionally exhausting. Definitely read it. You may never want to read it again but. You need to experience this thing. It also has important plot stuff and it’s completely insane.)

-Mad Dogs and Englishmen (another essential!!! This book looks so stupid but it’s a masterpiece!!!!!!!!!!! I’m not kidding actually you need to read this it’s so good and so much fun.)

-Hope is interesting and has some important character stuff but I think it’s nonessential, and Anachrophobia is actually really really good but ultimately skippable if your reading list is overwhelming

-The Book of the Still (I think this one is forgotten a lot on lists of best DW novels but it’s truly wonderful and I definitely wouldn’t skip it. Also Fitz is in love with the Doctor, holy shit)

-The Crooked World (another super underrated book, this one is really weird but like. Genuinely amazingly good. Probably skippable in the grand scheme of things but honestly I would strongly recommend reading it.)

-I didn’t like History 101 but lots of other fans think it’s great, and it has some important plot and lore stuff if I remember correctly

-Camera Obscura (another huge favorite I think is unskippable, I really love this book and lots of important things happen in it)

-Time Zero (a hidden gem I definitely recommend, I actually didn’t realize how good this book was until after I finished it and couldn’t stop thinking about it.)

-The Domino Effect, Reckless Engineering, and The Last Resort make up part of an important story arc but they’re also the books that made me slowly lose interest in continuing just because I found them so depressing. I know they didn’t affect everyone like they did me though, so ???? I might not be the best person to recommend these or not.

-Timeless is the book I’m on right now and I’ve heard it’s important and that things pick up again after this! I’ve also heard that most of the books after this up through the last one (The Gallifrey Chronicles) are pretty good, so you can either ask someone else about these or just read them and see, whatever you want.

Lastly, there are also various other Eighth Doctor books that aren’t actually part of the EDA range, and I actually recommend most of them, especially Fear Itself (a Past Doctor Adventure), The Dying Days (the last book in the previous DW range, the Virgin New Adventures, and actually the first Eighth Doctor novel ever), and Fallen Gods (a Telos Novella, one of my favorite books of all time, please read this one, it’s so good).

And that’s all I think! I hope it wasn’t confusing or overwhelming, it’s a little hard to explain this series outside the perspective of having read almost all of them in order. I have PDFs of all of these books too so if you need them you can dm me. Enjoy!

[ladylillianrose]

Damn right you should be embarrassed Selin! Walking out that door was the smartest thing you've done!

Thank god she finally knows the truth!

As much as it hurts him that she's in pain and furious with him, she's right.

He knew telling her the truth would lead to something like this. 😢😢

Go Eda, go after the man responsible for this mess!

*side note* Damn that is a 🔥🔥🥵🥵 jacket (I have a weakness for men in jackets) and the jeans 🥵🥵🥵🔥🔥🔥 Don't get me wrong I love the suits, but mmmm there is just something about a well fitting pair of jeans!

Damn straight he isn't responsible for his father's actions! Make him see that Aydan!

Ugh it hurts Serkan so much to see her in this much pain 😢😢😢

He doesn't deserve forgiveness Eda, don't try and ease Alptekin's guilt.

Ugh the thunder and rain as both their hearts break, perfection!

Yes girl time is exactly what Eda needs, she needs the support and love from them.❤❤

Lmao at Fifi being Ayfer's favorite and Melo being offended🤣🤣

Aydan speaking the truth, and being supportive of both Serkan and Eda 😭😭🥰🥰

Serkan is not pulling his punches with Alptekin and I am 100% here for it!

Yaaaas Serkan finally laying into Selin too!! OMG I literally gasped when he told her they are not friends! *standing ovation* It took him long enough but he finally said what needed to be said all along to her!

Of course Seyfi is on Eda's side, he's always been.

I love that despite all their issues Aydan and Ayder are friends, they're hilarious together and they're good for each other.

Melo still wanting Eda and Serkan together and believing in true love🥰🥰😭😭

The fact that Alptekin just gives up so easily and walks out the door proves he is not worthy of Aydan or Serkan!🤬🤬🤬🤬

The fact that Serkan sleeps on the opposite side, because Eda sleeps on the right side. 😭😭😭

Poor Serkan, a week long inside being depressed 😭😭😭

Random Selin haircare commercial 🤣🤣🤣🤣

Bless Leila's heart she's so loyal to Serkan, I love her!!!

WTF Selin? You don't want him to be happy while you're unhappy? Was he not fucking clear enough? He doesn't want you, he has never wanted you, and your behavior has made it impossible to even be friends.🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬 You've now officially entered psycho ex territory.

Even Piril is wary of what you are saying!

If it didnt work with you it shouldn't work with Eda? Narcissistic bitch!Serkan and Eda are going to need file some restraining orders!

Seyfi and Aydan are all of us fans 🤣🤣🤣

Lmao Piril and Engin need some popcorn if they're going to watch the Eda/Serkan meeting.

Ugh the way he looks at her🥺🥺🥺🥺

The fact that he signs it without reading it because he trusts and loves her so!😭😭😭😭

Making him take off the ring that he hasn't taken off since the engagement😭😭😭😭😭 Very cruel Eda.

She's going to trust and like you even less Efe since you're setting her up for a meeting with her grandmother....🤬🤬🤬

I love Leila and Serkan's relationship!🥰🥰

Don't get any ideas Selin, they are only temporarily off their fingers!

Are you fucking kidding me Selin? Way to burn all your bridges and show your true colors🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬

Lmao at Engin and Piril's reaction to Serkan signing Eda's contract without reading it!🤣🤣🤣🤣

Those rings are going to constantly be in his pocket🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭

Oh Serkan, don't worry your mom will do everything short of locking you two in a closet (because of Eda's claustrophobia) to make sure you end up together!

I'm curious as to what Eda's punishments for Serkan are😉😉😉😈😈😈

Damn Ferit's aunt just won some points for that take down of Selin

Seyfi and Melo spilling the tea! Give us more of them together!!😍😍😍

Serkan sweetie you are too obvious with your ploys!🤣🤣

Lmao Leila trying to be sneaky by putting the paperclip on the wrong side as a way to signal and talk to Serkan 🤣🤣🤣 007 she is not, but I love her!

"The whole situation is here now"🤣🤣🤣🤣 Their whole interaction is gold!

Lmao Engin no one ever wants Erdem 🤣🤣

I don't know how much more of Selin I can take!🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬

Omg Serkan slipping her ring into her pocket 🥺🥺🥺🥺😍😍😍😍

The look on his face when he asks what happens if he intentionally violates the contract🥵🥵🥵🥵🔥🔥🔥🔥 That smirk *swoons*, he's already thinking of the best ways to tease her!

And Eda can tell because of that slight hitch in her breath

I knew he'd have to apologize to Erdem 🤣🤣🤣

Eda looking like she just got the world's best gift!🤣🤣🤣

Serkan's face, throughout this whole scene 🤣🤣🤣🤣 I almost woke my husband up laughing. I'm crying! His hand during the hug 🤣🤣🤣🤣

I love Eda's idea for the school desks ❤❤❤

And as always Serkan is in awe and impressed by Eda🥺🥺🥺🥺

Not so unaffected by him are you Eda?

Melo working for Engin🥰🥰🥰🥰 Yes let's get all of the pro EdSer people together!!

Selin deserves to be miserable🤬🤬🤬🤬

Whenever he scoops her up *swoon*🔥🔥🔥

Serkan always wants to take her to the doctor because he cares so much, and even Eda knows.

"You were always there for me. This time I'll be there for you."😭😭😭🥺th🥺🥺

I'm so glad Ayfer has Fifi to help her with the business stuff.

Ferit you messed up, not as bad as Selin but still pretty bad.

Eda needed to have that moment and I'm glad she did, hopefully it helps her heal.

Serkan desperately wanting to hold her while she cries, and Eda wanting him to hold her.

Oh Ayfer you don't know how much worse these women are than Aydan.

Oh Ferit, you are helping for the right reason, but also hoping that Ceren will hear about it.

Um Selin your job is literally to do PR, which is all about image!!

Lmao Leila saying she would definitely leave Erdem if he got fired and had no money.🤣🤣🤣

Fifi watching the video of Eda and Serkan and even she can't deny how much he loves her.

Eda finding the ring and smiling❤❤❤

Seyfi assuring Aydan that she has him at least🥰🥰

No Selin you won't do anything, big difference!

Ayfer is so happy to be cooking, doing something she loves!🥰🥰

Yaaass Sirius is there to see his Mama!!!

Ugh he just loves and cares about her so much😭😭😭😭

Go meet them in the park Eda! Do not let your 4 legged son down!!

Oh Efe you are going to be the next to face Eda's wrath!

Serkan always giving Eda rides, because he wants to make sure she is safe.

Fuck you Alptekin, as if we needed more reasons to hate you.🤬🤬🤬

Lmao Fifi and Ferit's interaction.

"There is nothing that I would not do for you,"😭😭😭😭😍😍😍😍🥺🥺🥺

Serkan is not sorry to see you go Efe and neither am I!

Serkan watching and being so proud of Eda during her speech, and giving him hope🥺🥺🥺

That look in the mirror🥰🥰🥰

The passing of the ring 🤣, this will continue until it's back on her finger, where it belongs!

At least Ferit knows he messed up.

Melo refusing to give in to Ayfer's hypnotism 🤣🤣🤣

You know Melo is right Ceren! Ferit messed up, and much like Serkan he is trying to make up for his mistakes!

Oh Eda don't write it now, Ayfer will show up and make a scene!!

You know he is right Eda! You shouldn't be so rithless.

So many Pride and Prejudice parallels with Serkan and Ferit doing it only for the women they love.

Aydan knowing Serkan can't say no to Eda🤣🤣🤣

Uh Eda you need to come up with the $$$ and fast!!🤣🤣

Seyfi you've been working for Aydan for so long that you still question her schemes?

Yaaas Serkan with the grand scheme!! You know you need to go to dinner with him!!

At least we know where Serkan gets his subtlety from 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Tell me Serkan is going to also buy this dress because it is only worthy of Eda!!

You will stumble and fall if Serkan looks you in the eyes?😍😍😍😍

Of course he'll be there to catch you, he always does😭😭😭😭😭

The fact that Piril thinks Selin is being ridiculous says something.

You don't think you deserve Eda's scorn Selin? Are you really that stupid?🙄🙄🤬🤬

Damn Fifi and Melo🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Engine's face when he sees Piril😍😍😍😍😍

Oooooo Ferit you know you're gone!

Serkan can't breathe watching Eda🔥🔥🔥😍😍😍😍😍

Seriously Selin? I'm so beyond done with this crazy woman!!🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬

Do more stuff like this then Serkan, its good for you and everyone ekse.

Just drive her to the restaurant with you, that will guarantee that she is there with you!

I'm going to murder Selin because you know Eda wants to go!!🤬🤬🤬

Aydan showing no mercy to Alptekin! He deserves every inch of her scorn!🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬

Nooooooo!!!! Of course she goes to the one Selin put in the envelope!!😭😭😭😭🤬🤬🤬🤬

They had better talk to one another about this misunderstanding!!!!

Call him!!! He would never stand you up Eda!!!!😢😢😢😢😢

Ugh my heart hurts for them!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Throw some water on Selin and see if she melts that witch!!

[imthepunchlord]

For all the new things, I kinda wished they showed all of this before SwSh was released, now it's a bit more pricey and I feel like it's kinda rushed. Also for the Mystery Dungeon, I'm excited for that bit I really hope that include all the starters and non starters as well in the final.

I wish they went ahead and pushed back SaS so it’d be released 2020, with this expansion back already included, and the new places we go to can be unlocked during our adventure or as postgame. I would’ve fine waiting and would’ve preferred it, especially to give them a chance to do more with the main story which is pretty weak and made little sense, and Rose was a very forced in villain. Also made no sense in the story climax. Watching playthroughs and seeing the climax of SaS I’m just... 

Its also frustrating that you get to hear about things happening and not actually witness or help. Like, its nice having adults acknowledge that you’re a kid, don’t worry about it we’ll handle it, but at the same time, that’s a chunk of story we have a right to see, and we’re kids in this game, we don’t always do what adults say we should follow and see what’s going on. That could’ve been something optional. Go to event to see what’s happening or skip it to go to the next gym. 

And this is turning into a rant so I’m going to put this below. For those that just want to read my comments on Mystery Dungeon, scroll down till you get to the Pikachu gif, I’ll talk about it below. 

Also there could’ve been improvements with the rivals. Marnie is suuuuper intriguing and I love her, Bede I also like though that’s more me missing mean rivals and man, he’s a brat and I say that with affection. But in the grand scheme of things, they felt pointless. More could’ve been done to include them. And Hop. God, Hop. I know people like him, but from what I’ve seen, he seems like the most annoying “friend rival” made to date. He does not know what personal space is. He waits for you in front of gyms. He waits for you on new routes. He has to comment on almost every move you make in your fights with him. 

I don’t even own the games but just from the playthroughs I’ve watched I’m just... go away. Leave the lead alone. Everywhere you turn, he’s there, waiting for you. It also feels like he only got endorsed because he’s Leon’s younger brother. There’s nothing about him that I like. And, I don’t know why he gets the other wolf legendary? What makes him worthy?What makes him want to be a Professor in the future? That’s out of nowhere. 

Something more could’ve been done with Hop, maybe an arc of him resenting you a little because every match you beat him, and he’s the Champion’s younger brother and you just seem to stay ahead. Maybe let us have more scene of him talking with Sonia since he’s going to be her future assistant. If he’s going to be constantly stalking us and waiting for us, then yeah, let’s at least better build up where his character will go. 

Then there’s the issue of pokemon. With it pretty much confirmed they just reused models from gen 7, yeah, there’s no reason to not include more pokemon. If not the National Dex, which wouldn’t bother me too much, then go ahead and add about half. At most, I’d love pokemon included that would make the most sense. Like, lion is a big symbol throughout all of Europe. There should be a lion in Galar, either Litleo or Shinx returning if not a new lion pokemon. And with the expansion packs, yeah, they’re already adding 200 each pack. 

And a lot of this dlc should already be in the game. If 400 pokemon are going to be added in, they should already be there. The new Giga forms should already be there and we should’ve seen the Giga Venusaur and Blastoise the same time as Charizard. 

I’m also salty that there’s no going to Kalos. Maybe it’ll be a future expansion, and that’s a dlc I wouldn’t mind, but those are two very linked countries they’re based on. And Galar truly isn’t a big region. The Wild Area isn’t as big as it could be. Like, it doesn’t have to be BotW big, but it could’ve been bigger than what we got. And if not expanding the Wild Area, we could’ve had Kalos as a new region to go to, and more gyms for us to do. 

ALSO.

I am not a fan of you refacing the gyms and having them act as your “Elite Four”. 

They’ve already been fought. Aside from the first two, you’ve already fought all the star Giga forms they have. Its a really lazy decision. At least, you can have the two first gym leaders come in since you didn’t fight their star Giga forms, and include the other two version exclusive gym leaders as the other two. Just for some freshness in this final challenge. 

I know they’re not big on voice acting, but, they should’ve put some form of VA into these games. Its a little awkward to get animated cutscenes and there’s no voices coming forth. And its at its worst when you get to Piers and you see him singing away, I presume loudly, into his mic and its just awkward cause there’s no voice and you can hear him tapping his foot to the music and its just so off putting to watch cause something is missing: a voice! And you know what’s the kicker? Pokemon has included voice acting before. 

There is no reason to not do something similar, at least for Piers’ intro so its not so awkward to watch. 

And then post game... the official post game... I, I honestly can’t say what is even going on? Those two blonde bimbos, those designs, who agreed to pass them? For sword guy, I don’t know whether I should be laughing or uncomfortable. Its like, an in between especially when his hair flops around. Also, their reasoning, they’re causing chaos in Galar because they didn’t like a book Sonia wrote??? 

The villains in these games are just so dumb.

Like, Rose had a good motive but, he is still forced in. And he activates the climax for no reason. He was promised by Leon that he would help with Eternatus, all he had to do was wait through one match. One match that would’ve been 30 minutes at most, roughly. Yet he couldn’t wait for one match and went ahead and woke up Eternatus, does a video asking for help, and when you arrive, stops you for a battle that doesn’t make sense to have cause he asked for help why is he holding you up with a battle?? 

And Team Yell. Supposed to be like, a 2nd Team Skull and these guys could dream to live up to Team Skull. They can’t. They’re not funny or enjoyable at all. And my friend brought up a good point on the issue of having Team Yell based on punks when they’re supposed to be the “villainous” team. Punks, historically, were rebelling against an unfair system, they were progressive and revolutionary. They stood up for LBGT rights, they stood for having individual freedom, and just wanted to break the restrictions society wanted to place on people, let people express themselves and be who they want to be. 

If you want Team Yell to be a 2nd Skull and play around with punks as their theme, then they should’ve been set up to be red herrings as well. Be wary at first and then later find that they have hearts of gold, and mean well, even if they can be a tad extreme sometimes. And maybe they can help build up the danger of Rose, who in turn wants to paint them in with a bad image since they’re going against him and what’s normal in society. 

Anyway... Sword and Shield honestly should’ve been pushed back. They should’ve been saved for 2020, or even 2021, or however how much time they need. I would’ve been fine waiting. A lot of fans would be. But what we got wasn’t worth the $60 it was being sold at, and definitely not worth the $90 its being sold at with the expansion packs, and as far as I know, these are very, very small areas to explore. Cause as we’ve seen with SaS, they built it up to be big and grand and, well, the Wild Area was smaller than expected and the whole was far shorter than expected. You could beat it in 20 hours roughly. 

I even have mixed feelings on there being no enhanced version, cause these games do have potential, they just needed more time and polish, and then it could’ve worth the $60 price. But also thankful that there’s not another 2nd version and we may be getting a few expansion packs instead. 

Though I do think a lot they’re bringing in should already be in the game. 

Anyway, enough ranting about Sas, onto Mystery Dungeon!

Demo I think could’ve been a little longer, they stop you before you go on the Skarmory mission, I think it could’ve been a better placement to end after the Skarmory mission. 

Anyway, I like the changes so far. I love you can choose a different pokemon if you don’t like what you got from the test. I love that you have an updated move pool, though I feel kinda OP but you also kinda need it for these games cause I remember them being so hard and as a starter that can’t evolve till like, post game, yeah you’re going to need that help. I love that you get to wear a little scarf. Design wise, a little weird at first but it grew on me. Kinda reminds me of Okami. 

By trailer, for sure they’re adding more pokemon in. Lucario is seen in the team, when before, you only saw Lucario as a statue in Red Blue, I believe? Its been a long time. But they only had Gen 1-3 in RB, and Lucario is there so I would think they’d add in a lot more pokemon. 

For starters, I’m hopeful that beating the game, if you replay, you’ll get more options for the starters to play as and have as your partner. I’d loooove to have a chance to play as Popplio. Mega Evolution is confirmed, I wonder if regional forms would also be playable, like if we could evolve into Alolan Marowak or be one of the other two regional Meowths. Otherwise, everyone you could be in the old game is there, with no gender restriction! You can be a female Cubone! A male Eevee! A female Cyndaquil! I’m so happy about that since as a kid, I wanted to play Cyndaquil but never got it in the test and had to look it up and was bummed that it was male only and I wanted to be a girl. 

My biggest hope though is that with this, we’ll have a chance to play two player, since you have a team of two usually, and your friend or sibling or SO can play your partner. 

I am pleasantly surprised with it so far, though I will be holding off when its released in a few months, just going to listen to all reviews once they beat the game and if its very positive, cause SaS had a strong start and then went down hill with Gamefreak rushing it and cutting corners. I’m hopeful for this remake but cautious still. 

[imaginemycroftholmes]

@grand-admiral-luna

“No one can know about her,” Moriarty fussed to his loyal sidekick Sebby, the Terror Tiger, looked unfazed by the declaration from his boss.

This wasn’t something new to him considering their gigs as superheroes for the greater part of London.

As Pyro Professor and Terror Tiger they constantly battled with the evil masterminds such as Ice Man, Purple Pirate or even worse, tango with their favorite henchman, Captain Action.

It was always a game of cat and mouse as the lone duo tried to rid the city of their influence and control while managing to evade arrest. A deed, most annoying slow considering Mycroft Holmes aka Ice Man had his hand in the pockets of every major business and authority.

To have their own sibling Eurus as their mole was a blessing the city couldn’t afford to lose as she had a watchful eye on both her brothers evil schemes. 

“Boss, if the Ice Man and Purple Pirate haven’t caught onto our real identities by now then I don’t think we have to worry about it,” Sebby rationalizes to Jim, “I mean they still won’t come to terms that the Holmes brothers are villains so why worry about us?”

“Because if they figure out who we are our families will be in danger,” Jim stresses, “They  could be used as bait or worse!”

 This isn’t the first time that Jim had gone off like this about his sister _____ after a difficult foiling of the dastardly duo but this is one of the few times it was too close for comfort.

However, being an orphan of war Sebastian can’t imagine what it feels like to lose someone but if its anything by the way Jim acts he know it can’t be good.

Not one of them could figure out why or how ______ kept ending up near their battles but it was starting  to put Jim on edge and when Jim is on edge then he’s crawling up his back with complaints that makes him want to claw off the backs of the infamous Holmes brothers just to make Jim stop crying.

And he just got his titanium claws resharpened just for the occasion. 

Watching and (tuning out) his boss’s ramblings about keeping his sister safe Sebastian turns his attention to the big screen showing off the city’s zones praying for a distraction when a cellphone rings.

“I’m holding out for a hero! I’m holding out for a hero until the morning's light..”

If it wasn’t for the fact that Jim was surrounded by some of his most dangerously sensitive bombs-the ones that only required just a light pressure to set off- Sebastian might have found it funny how he fumbled for his phone to answer it. 

With his cat-like reflexes he swooped in to drag the the nervous man from dropping his device on what would be an instant death for them both and answered the phone for him.

“Hello?”

“Sebby,” comes an excited voice from the other line, “It’s great to hear you! How has the canning business going with you two lately?”

Sebastian winces both at the moniker that ____ picked up from her brother and the fact that she still believes that lie.

How anyone believes that lie is beyond him but then again, people still can’t believe that Sherlock Holmes is the Purple Pirate DESPITE WEARING THE SAME OUTFIT EACH TIME BUT ONLY PURPLE. THERE’S NO MASK TO OBSCURE HIS FACE OR HAIR BUT WHEN HE TRIES TO SHOW PEOPLE THAT THEY THINK HE’S “CRAZY”.

But thanks to his ever witty and not good with lies on the spot partner the first thing that came out of his mouth for their nightly activities is starting a canning business and they’re in a relationship.

Needless to say, this puts a damper on his dating life but for the life of him Sebastian doesn’t have the heart to cheat on Jim for fear of _____’s private version of “You hurt him and I’ll make sure you have a 4 year slow death in the backyard tool shed back in Sussex where no one can hear you scream.”

If ______ is anywhere near as bad as Moriarty Sebastian doesn’t want to be on her bad side. 

“Yeah, its going great _____,” Sebastian says convincingly while shooting a glare at Jim who is piteously trying to reach for his phone, “So what are you up to sunshine?”

“I’m so glad you asked,” she continues with enthusiasm, “You see, I met this guy...”

“You met a guy you say,” Sebastian parrots loudly knowing good and well that it would send her brother into a rage.

“A GUY?? WHO IS HE?? SEB! GIVE ME BACK MY PHONE!”

It really shouldn’t bring Sebastian as much joy as it does but Jim jumping desperately to retrieve his phone but it does and he continues to torment him.

“So what? you want me and Jim to meet him,” Sebastian carries on causally like Jim isn’t trying to scale him.

And failing.

“Yeah, actually. I’ve kinda been seeing him for over 2 months now and want him to get acquainted with you guys because I might be bringing him home for Christmas this year,” she states with more confidence than her brother wearing spandex tights.

“Ya know that’s a pretty big step in a relationship right?”

“I know,” _____ agrees, “But this guy is just so right for me that I don’t feel like its too big of  deal.”

  ‘Yeah I know,” Sebastian concedes, “But you know that your brother is going to have kittens right?”

“Well, that’s why I want you to come with. Nothing can settle someone down like their spouse am I right?”

“Spouse...right...”

“Speaking of which is my brother around?”

Looking around and finding that Jim had skunked off somewhere was alarming.The guy never gave up that easily which was why he was the Purple Pirate’s favorite target. 

“I think he may have ran to the loo-” Sebastian tries to say before an image of terror, Moriarty running full speed with one of his guns toward him with a battle cry of “GIVE ME MY PHONE” being heard throughout the hide out. 

“No, wait! ____, here he is,” Sebastian cries as he throws the device at Jim and runs for cover.

The phone is quickly caught by Jim who purrs his hellos to her and then promptly hangs up.

Sebastian doesn’t have to turn around from his hiding spot to know that its Moriarty standing behind him. His voice is dark and deadly as he leans closer.

“You tease me like that again when ______ is calling and I’ll clip those claws permanently.” 

“Yes boss,” Sebastian responds carefully knowing that when Jim is in one these moods that his life can very well be in forfeit because for all of Jim’s silliness he was a damn genius with an affinity for violence and murder. 

He could only shudder of what horrors Moriarty would unleash if he had not been on the side of angels.

“So, when are we meeting him?”

“Next Tuesday at 6″, Jim spats coldly, ‘And you had better not make us late.”

“You know that’s not my faul-” Sebastian says defensively until he sees the look of murder in his boss’s eyes. “I mean, sure boss,” he corrects himself, “are you going to use Eurus to spy on the bloke?”

“Of course I am! Why wouldn’t I want to know the scum who’s shacking up with my sister? I want to know who he is, what he does and what he shits to see if he’s good enough for her! I wanna maul the guy with all the dirt I have on him so he’ll fuck off and leave us alone.”

Poor guy Sebastian thinks as his boss stalks off to Skype Eurus he can’t be all bad if ____ likes him.

                                XxXxXxX

“YOU.”

“Believe me the feeling is mutual.”

“Guys, can we settle down please! We’re in a public place!!”

“You gotta be kidding me.”

Here, sitting before him in the flesh in one of his bespoken suits, is the Ice Man at one of the nicer restaurants in London acting like he’s an honest to God good man beside Jim’s sister. 

Like the guy hadn’t tried to murder them last week for foiling their slave labor camps in India or tortured them on occasion.

And to make matters worse his hand is on _____’s thigh, oh my God Jim is going to murder him before the waiter even arrives.

________ has her hands up as is to stop her brother from launching himself over the table to fight and pronounces quickly, “I can explain!”

Well this would explain why Eurus couldn’t find information on him Sebby muses as the air becomes frigid. 

Crap, its one of Ice Man’s classic moves Sebastian thinks as other civilains begin to feel the icy sting.

“Explain what,” Jim spits out venomously, “that this monster brainwashed you into thinking that it loves you? That not even you can recognizes that he’s the Ice Man, the man responsible for the poverty and waste in our country? That he’s so evil that members of his own family are trying to end his tyranny?”

“Jimmy!”

“Now you see here, you two-bit genius,” Mycroft interjects, “I may make up causes and strife for my own gain but my love for ______ is one of the few things from me that are true.”

“Bullshit! You’re just using her to get to me!”

“Why would he want you when you already have Sebby,” _____ cries.

“I’m not gay!”

Sebastian can already see their waiter in the distance looking far too nervous to approach the shouting match that was their table so he shooed him off with a “come back later.”

Realizing that this would not only lead to a needless blood bath but to unmasking their identities to the public Sebastian tries his attempt to at least save this meal.

Tapping his glass to get their collective attention Sebastian starts,” Shut the hell up, you guys are causing a scene.”

Pointing at Mycroft accusing Jim begins to mouth out, “But he started-”

“I don’t care who started this I told you to shut up!”

He looks around the table at the lot of them.

______ looking confused and hurt that anyone would accuse Mycroft of anything less than sainthood, Mycroft torn between tearing ____ away with him like the villain he is or staying to suss out any evil intent toward her and Jim seemingly five seconds from ignoring the command to maul the Ice Man outright.

Praying to whatever deity that cursed him into a situation like this Sebastian began. “Look, we can’t outright believe that Ice Ma-I mean, Mycroft has the best intentions toward you _______-”Only to be interrupted by Jim’s HA!

Giving Jim a glare Sebastian continues, “However, JIM, we also can’t lawfully say that Mycroft’s feelings aren’t true because we aren’t mind readers.”

“I bet I can find us one on Craigslist!”

“Jimmy shut the hell up,” ______ hisses before gesturing for Sebastian to carry on. “So, my proposal is that we, Jim and I, monitor you two just to make sure that you’re safe.”

“But I’m 32,” ______ complains, “I’m too old for a chaperone!”

“Listen, I’m doing what I can _____. It’s either this or Jim’s going to try and murder Mycroft when you’re not around. It’s a compromise.”

“As if he could after all this time,” Mycroft snidely remarks.

“Maybe I just didn’t have the right motivation,” Jim counters getting squared up.

“Promises, promises,” Mycroft teases as he gestures for a waiter,” Besides we both know who the better genius is.”

“Yeah, your little sister.”

The air was becoming increasingly frigid to the point where Sebby was sure that he would have to evacuate people from the premises until _____ leaned onto Mycroft’s shoulder, melting away the frost.

“Guys, guys! Let’s stop the banter and eat! I’ve been dying to try this menu for ages,” _______ says cuddling Mycroft’s chill into submission.

“Anything you wish ______,” Mycroft says fondly in a way that makes Jim’s skin crawl.

Later after the bill was (fought over) and paid for  _____ hung back with him while Mycroft and Jimmy went to “talk” about some ground rules in private.

 “Sebby, why do Mycroft and Jimmy hate each other,” she asked innocently, “I know they never went to school together and Mycroft rarely leaves his office so how would they know each other enough to despise one another?”

Cursing his boss and this ridiculousness of their town Sebastian states, “We’re rival canning companies.”

“Oh, well that makes sense.” 

Listen, I’m not the best at superhero/villain names so cut me some slack. 

[yvaquietdays]

idealising the past and dreaming about the future

Last week, after I made the blog public, I received some pretty beautiful messages. Most of them were from folks who had been in the exact same position as me, whether living with depression or anxiety, or simply finding it tough battling through life’s disappointments. It was incredibly comforting knowing what I believed when I wrote that last post was so resonant; we’re all going through the same bullshit.

But a friend in particular, his name is Mat. He commented publicly on my post with some words that got me thinking. Imma share this here:

If I was arrested for any crime at all it would be for idealising my past self. That and eating too many biscuits. Who I was, who I thought I was. I laughed more, I cared less, I subscribed to nobody else’s version of me. But then I got depressed and worried all the time, and I lost that part of myself. The happy-go-lucky, ball of energy, motivated, determined young woman, gone. As slow and as unnervingly noticeable as a fart. Much in the way that Mat reminisces over his “extroverted, confident ‘me’“, I reminisce heavily upon the teenage me, the one who had stars in her eyes and never wavered in her confidence of her abilities.

Except, when I really think about it, when I’m honest with myself, and I face my self in the mirror, I know that isn’t true.

All that I’ve lost, really, are my rose tinted glasses.

I grew up.

I was never motivated, I was never determined. I was lucky. I can’t reminisce about the person I was because I know more about myself now than I did before, and I think the hardest part of climbing out of the pit of your mental un-health is accepting that life goes forwards, not backwards. I can’t unlearn all the things I’ve learnt since I noticed three years ago that I wasn’t happy. The truth is, I was unhappy before that. I’ve been fighting off that frequency sadness for as long as I can remember.

So I can’t go back and rewind the clock, because all I have is now and I don’t want to be that sad girl anymore. I’ve been thinking a lot about cycles, the 7-year-life cycle in particular. Wait, though- Before you flick back to whatever you were doing before you decided to read my blog, bear with me. Aside from whatever spiritual or philosophical connotations the idea might have, let’s look at it logically for a second. The first seven years of our life we spend smelling and touching and feeling out the world around us. Any mental learning is done almost subconsciously, depending on how our world treated us. We’re well on our way to becoming a real, pubescent adult when the second cycle rolls around, by which point we’re discovering our sexuality, relationships, viewpoints and intellect. This is such a huge exploratory phase for some. Then the third arrives, and we’re beginning to find out what the world is like without our parents driving the train. We’re figuring out where we place in the grand scheme of things, and wondering how you might change, politically, environmentally, socially. And then come our twenties.

Jesus Fuck.

WHAT HAPPENED?!

I think it is no coincidence that a lot of people suffer mental illness for the first time in this particular age bracket. I envy those who don’t. They tend to be some of the most driven, strongest people I know. But my friends used to call it “the mid-twenties fear.” Out of nowhere, we’re mentally and physically culpable for all our own decisions and mistakes, and all the ideas we had for life in those first three cycles have become somewhat buried under a pile of work deadlines, rent days and bills to pay. We don’t own your own home yet, we aren’t married, we have no kids. We aren’t in the perfect job yet, we haven’t even begun the successes that were supposed to come to us after we put in so much work at our GCSE’s, A-Levels, degrees!

We’re the guy cleaning our toilets now, we’re the ones buying the food. School didn’t prepare us (not in the UK at least) for how to deal with every day responsibilities; how to pay taxes, how to arrange loans, how to mentally cope with the resounding disappointment we feel at how our lives panned out in contrast to the grand ideals we had when we were in our third cycle.

Oof. I know. Heavy man.

(I have a big problem with how out-dated our education system is; instead of being career-driven, it is goal-driven. Degrees don’t work for everyone and they evidently do not provide for a stable economy. More apprenticeships, less pressure on exams (not everyone is good at those) and more practical applications, pls & thnx)

But here’s what I’ve realised. Life is a cycle. It’s not meant to go backwards, it’s supposed to continue on its round, picking up what we’ve learned and adapting itself as it goes. Why focus on what we haven’t got when we should focus on what we do have? And if something is ever spiralling, ever changing and evolving, how can we go back to the last cycle? Should we jam an iron rod in the spokes, forcing the wheel to brake suddenly and collapse under the pressure? Because that is what would happen. That is what happened to me.

I knew at the age of 18 my life wasn’t heading in the right direction, when I stared out of my university accommodation window at York Minster in the distance, listening to Stop This Train by John Meyer. The night was dark, and I sat curled on my redundant desk chair, wondering in a pale blue light of sadness, even then. Eventually I made the change, dropping out of further education and pursuing my joy, my music. But it did not alleviate the sadness. I continued on, all the while so scared of living life on my own, so scared of growing up. I lived in fear for years of never achieving my goals because I could not bear to be alone doing it. Isolation was my motivation and fear my hinderance.

I spent years dreaming and idealising this vision of the future where I was always winning, where I was singing and performing and recording and I was writing with everyone and everyone wanted to write with me, and everything was just going to work out (claps between words required). It was easier living in this fantasy life I wanted to build, but the escape was taking me further away from reality. Much like that incredible Pixar film, Inside Out, fear and sadness was in control of my actual life.

Things were going well for a while in that frame of mind, but then they didn’t.

When all those things I’d dreamt (I stress that I never visualised them, not in a positive way- I dreamed them- the difference is as vast as an ocean) didn’t happen, I kept harking on to that past self, wondering where it all went wrong, trying to get back that ambition, the endless streams of excitement, the riveting pangs of desire. It was all a lie I told myself. Because really, all I had in the pit of my stomach was dull and and grey; it was nothing, and I could feel myself hiding in that pit, far, far away from where I used to be. All of what I told myself was a lie, and I was starting to realise the truth of it.

I think that amidst all of it, life was telling me (whatever it was; nature, God, Buddha’s mates,) I ought not to hyper-admire my old self. Because in trying to become my past self, I was ignoring what I could become in the future. All of the little lies I told myself started to evolve on their own like that black icky shit from Prometheus (don’t watch it- it’s disappointing, just like your life), to the point that I forgot what I had done to protect myself; when all of those things I had lied with were stripped from me, I was naked and bare, and I had no idea of how I was going to move through the murk of it all. My self esteem was so low that the idea of performing made me anxious, writing made me cry, I sat in silence at the piano with a choke in my throat and my guitar lay in its case gathering dust.

But I was naked for a reason. I had to accept that I was relying heavily upon this idea of my self, not upon what I was. I was constantly seeking others’ approval, my only source of validation was what I thought others thought of me.

It has been empowering to know that the answer has been in me all along. I cannot blame others for how I view myself.

Life is a cycle. I am where I am supposed to be now. It’s not perfect, I’m still working on me and creating my life with my own hands, not someone else’s. I’m not quite there yet, but I’m trying.

But maybe this is my best self, because I’m so much more aware and emotionally awake. Maybe I’m the best I can be because I recognised my laziness and arrogance when I needed to, and in stripping these things away from my ego I am looking forward to being a better person, not the young complacent girl I was. And as a woman, cycles rule our lives. From the second cycle to the latter, our emotions and physiology is run by a monthly turn of events. Part of the reason I came off the pill was so that I could feel and trust this more purely. I was neglecting my basic instincts and self and I couldn’t have jacked up hormones hiding it away from me.

So everything comes and goes. The old girl goes and the new woman arrives. We have a chance to change every time. All aspects of life in this world run in a cycle. Water, fire, earth. It all moves and works in a cycle. Ice ages, the rising of dough into a beautiful donut, the melting of butter atop a mountain of cheese and jacket potato. Life and death. All the important stuff.

So I let the death of my old self instigate the birth of a better me. And one day I might shed this skin too and look forward to the next husk I inhabit.

What I’m learning is that nostalgia can be good, if you’re with your mates and remembering that time you threw up down the side of George Ezra’s tour van (true story).

But if we start becoming nostalgic about our selves, thinking of our current self in a negative way, dousing it in low light and bad reflective gear, and instead highlighting that past self with the glory light of hindsight, we can’t, and I believe, we won’t move forward.

We have to accept ourselves as we are now, and then build whatever we can upon the foundations that we create every second we’re alive. Because all we have are our own decisions, that ultimately we are in control of. How we respond, how we act, what we say; at the end of the day, that’s who we are. What you did today, that’s who you are, good or bad. No-one is perfect and life is a cycle. We always have tomorrow to try again.

We don’t have yesterday, so

[imaginebeatles]

Poetry Nights | Chapter 3: In which a cat and a hangover are not a good combination

Pairing: John/Paul

Rating: PG-13 (maybe R, because there’s a slight hint of masturbation in there, but not really)

Set in: Modern AU

Summary: 21-year-old Paul McCartney, who has recovered from a breakdown due to stress and his mother’s unexpected death, has recently moved to London where he now rents a cheap flat with his friend George. Having needed to give up his medicine studies, he has decided to start over and go to art college instead where he meets the rude and troublesome John Lennon, a young poet, who, much to Paul’s dismay, also happens to be his neighbour.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Beatles and this is fictional. I do not make money off this. 

Author’s note: So here it is, the third part. It took longer than expected, but thanks to @chut-je-dors I decided to get the writing program Scrivener, which truly is a life-saver. I hope you guys like this chapter. Not much happens, but there are great little moments and our boys learn some things. 

Paul woke up the following day with a pounding headache and a loudly buzzing phone rattling on his windowsill. It took him a while to realise where he was; the room was too bright to see anything, every ray of light hitting his eyes like a sword that was being rammed through his skull, and whenever he tried to work through the pain and focus, the too-white room began to spin around him, forcing him to lie back down and close his eyes until his body stopped turning. 

Slowly, though, his eyes became better acquainted to the light pouring into the room, and another fifteen minutes later, he was finally able to open his eyes without feeling like someone was sawing open his skull with a blunt butcher’s knife. Looking around, he noticed he was in his bedroom at home. Whoever had put him to bed had forgotten to close the blinds, allowing the afternoon light to shine in unobstructed, and the clothes he had worn the previous night lay in a small pile by the bed, leaving Paul only in his boxers. Moving still proved too much effort, his limbs feeling like they had not only tripled in weight, but had also been tied down to the bed using ropes and heavy stones, keeping him firmly in place. His phone was still buzzing too, and with great effort and another piercing headache, he managed to raise one of his arms and pick it up, putting an end to the horrendous noise. He groaned at the brightness of the screen as he unlocked it, but pulled through to see who kept bothering him. Aside from a few notification from various social media apps, most notably his ever-present Instagram and Snapchat accounts, there were ten messages and eight missed calls, nearly all of which came from one person: Dot. He reluctantly opened the messages first.

Dorothy <3: 9.08  Hey babe. Just got home. Gonna take a quick shower. I’ll call you after, okay? Sorry again for missing our date. Love you

9.36  Ready! Call me ;) 

9.41  Tried calling you. Why aren’t you answering? You still awake?

9.47  Paul?

10.03  I tried calling again, but you didn’t answer. George told me you’ve gone out. You okay? Pls call me when you read this. 

10.29  Paul, I’m really worried. Just let me know you’re okay

10.37  George told me I’m overreacting and I hope he’s right and that you’re fine, but call me when you get this, okay?

00.35  George said you’re still not home. Please let me know you’re okay

08.15  Fuck you!! Thankfully George was kind enough to let me know you’ve gotten home fine or else I wouldn’t have slept all night! Thanks for making me worry, asshole. I’m going to work now. Call me when you’ve slept off that hangover. I get off around 2.

The only other message was from George, sent around 10.40 pm, telling him to call Dot because she kept interrupting him and Pattie, after which he had tried calling him twice at different times, the last one being around half past twelve in the morning. He hadn’t even noticed. God, he was a fucking asshole. He had known Dot was going to try calling him, and yet he had completely forgotten about her; he hadn’t even bothered texting her to let her know he was going out, and had even put his phone on silent and not looked at it for the entire night. That is, for as far as he could remember. Frankly, he barely remembered anything about last night except that he had gone to that poetry reading event, which had been surprisingly fun. He remembered speaking with that Lennon guy, who had turned out to be not as much of an asshole as he had pinned him for, and meeting some of his friends, but apart from that, the night’s events remained fuzzy and out of reach, except for some tiny little glimpses that didn’t mean anything to him on the grand scheme of things. He remembered lots of alcohol, though. What a mistake that had been.

Groaning at the pulsating pain in his head, he checked the time to see it was already a quarter to three, meaning he had slept through most of the day already, much to Paul’s dismay. He liked making the most of his days, even when he was hungover, but at least it meant Dot would be home by now, so he figured he’d call her  and get it over with. He rubbed his forehead to release some of the tension that had build up there, and dialled his girlfriend’s number. She answered almost immediately as if she had been waiting for his call, which, as he regrettably realised, she probably had. God, why hadn’t he just called her? 

“Oh! Look who’s finally decided to call,” Dot called out at the sound of her boyfriend’s voice, not even bothering with a proper hello. She hadn’t cursed at him yet, however, which meant she was at least somewhat happy to hear from him. 

“Dot… I-I’m sorry. I-” Paul started, but Dot wouldn’t hear it. 

“Oh, so you’re sorry, are you?” she remarked, her tone sarcastic, “I was worried about you! I told you I was going to call once I got home, didn’t I?”

“I know! And I am, but please… could you not shout? I just woke up and my head is killing me,” Paul said with a groan, and rubbed his forehead to relieve some of the pain as another knife was thrusted violently into his brain along with his girlfriend’s words. It shot all the way through his body, down to his stomach, which felt like it was trying to jump out of his throat. Dot, however, was too upset to care about his well-being at this point. 

“You could’ve told me you were going out at least,” she said, her voice still too loud to be comfortable, making Paul whine and close his eyes as his forehead throbbed painfully and his stomach churned. “I don’t need much. A text would’ve done it. But even George didn’t know where you were.” 

“I hadn’t planned on going out, you know…” Paul muttered in response as he rolled over onto his side and away from the light coming in through his window,  hoping it would relief some of the pain he was experiencing, but it barely helped. On the other end of the line, Dot sighed at his words. 

“That doesn’t matter! Paul, I thought you were… I thought… Fuck!” Her voice broke as she said that, and even though she hadn’t finished that thought, Paul knew what she meant. Guilt washed over him and his throat constricted as he struggled with what to say. Rather than apologise, however, like he should’ve done, he said something stupid. 

“Well, you could’ve told me you weren’t going to make our date yesterday a little sooner as well, you know. I waited for almost half an hour before you finally bothered to let me know you were still at work. You think I’m just going to sit in my room all evening and stare longingly out of the window while I wait for you to call me like some stupid archetypal Victorian love-interest? People have been constantly telling me over the past year to go out more and have fun, so that’s what I did. I’m allowed to go out and get drunk if I want to. And who knew what you and that Steve guy were up to.”

“It was busy! I didn’t know what time it was until I got was standing outside of the restaurant. And it’s not my fault my bike got stolen! Steve just offered me a ride because he was heading my way, anyway.”

“Oh, I bet he was thrilled about that.” 

“Don’t you dare, Paul,” Dot shot back, causing another sharp jolt of pain to go through Paul’s skull, making him groan as he grabbed his head and closed his eyes. Then, in a softer voice, she continued, “And it isn’t like that. Steve is Mr Strutton’s son. He just thought it proper to ask because his father asked me and some other girls to stay behind longer because it was a busy evening. And even if he was interested in me, I wouldn’t do that. You know that. You have no right to accuse me.”

“I know! I- God, Dot… I know you wouldn’t. But I would have liked you telling me sooner. And I am sorry. I know you were simply worried. I should have texted you,: Paul said honestly, and nearly let out a sigh of relief as Dot remained silent for a moment at his words. Her silence lasted much longer than Paul had expected, though, and he almost thought she had hung up on him when her voice came again, her tone a lot quieter this time. She almost sounded tired. 

“I just wish…” she started, cutting herself off to take a deep breath and start over, “I’m glad you’re safely at home. That’s the important part. And I’m not mad at you. Not really. I just… call me next time, yeah? We used to call each other all the time and lately… I worry sometimes. You would too, if I-” she stopped herself again, as if she were having trouble finishing that thought. But Paul understood nonetheless and let out an understanding hum in return. “I er… I have to go now. Mum asked me to look after Mrs Benson’s kids. Take an aspirin, drink plenty of water, have something to eat, and take some rest. I’ll call you later.”

“Dot?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“…I love you, too.”

After she had hung up, Paul stared at the screen of his phone for a moment longer, his eyes glued to the background picture of a short-haired blonde smiling back at him with dimples in her cheeks. The sun highlighted her light freckles and made her usually grey eyes appear as blue as the sea behind her. He had taken the picture himself last year during their summer trip to Wales, when everything had still been perfect between them. It seemed years ago now.

Sighing, he threw his phone aside on the bed and got up. His head was still pounding and his stomach churned at the sudden change of position, making him almost throw up. His knees and legs were wobbly under his weight as he stood and he needed to hold onto the walls and objects around the room to guide himself towards the door, onto which he now saw someone had stuck a green-coloured sticky note. There was only one person who used green-coloured sticky notes. It read:

Paul, There’s a package of aspirins on the kitchen counter so TAKE SOME! Also, Richie brought coffee with him, so drink some of that too. I’ll be home around 4.30. Don’t be stupid and TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF. You’re an idiot. But I love you anyway. George. Ps. Please call your girlfriend. She’s blowing up my phone.

Paul rolled his eyes at the note, but that only hurt his head more, so he tore it off, balled it up, threw it into the bin, and stumbled his way into the kitchen to those heaven-send aspirins his friend mentioned, while silently thanking him. Where would he be without him? Probably at home, arguing with his brother Mike over silly, unimportant things. He wasn’t sure which was worse. 

Once inside, he went for the package of aspirins first. He considered taking a handful, but figured George would possibly kill him if he accidentally overdosed on them, so he took the usual two the packaging advised him to take and went to grab himself a glass from one of the overhead cupboards. He filled it with cold water from the tab and let the pills dissolve in it, stirring all the while with his finger, until he was left with a substance that looked like watery milk, and swallowed it all down in one go. It tasted disgusting, and he drank another glass of water immediately after to try to wash it all down. It helped somewhat, but he could still taste the bitterness on his tongue, even after a second glass. His headache, however, was still too bad for him to really care about something small as that, so he ignored it and went to make himself some coffee. Two large packs of freshly grounded coffee stood in the windowsill. They were most likely a present from Ringo, who had gotten a job at one of the coffee houses near them and could take as much coffee home as he wanted. It seemed like he was taking all the advantage he could get from that rule, which Paul figured was a smart move on his part, considering Ringo rarely managed to hold a job for longer than two or three weeks. Though perhaps it was behaviour like this that had something do with it. 

Paul also picked out his favourite mug to drink from - a bright yellow one that George had gotten him for Christmas last year with the words “I’m a happy go lucky ray of fucking sunshine” written on it in fat black letter - which was also not-so-coincidentally the largest one, and sat slumping on one of the bar stools as he waited for the coffee machine to be done and the aspirin to take effect as he played with his mug. The irony of drinking from it now wasn’t lost on him. 

Although Paul did most of the cooking, the kitchen was very much George’s space. It was small, but bright, with a large stretch of windows above the kitchen counters that let in so much light they hardly ever needed to switch on a light except in the winter. On the wall above the breakfast bar hung a large rack with potted plants hanging from them, most of which were holding herbs, such as basil, rosemary, thyme, parsley and mint. He also had a couple of flower baskets hanging outside their windows with edible flowers, and on the windowsill there stood two large pots of tomato and orange bell pepper plants, the last of which didn’t do as well as the other plants, but George wasn’t ready to give up on them yet. The tomatoes on the other hand, were delicious and Paul tried to use them in his cooking as often as he could, much to George’s delight. 

He picked a small basil leaf from the rack to sniff at while he waited for his coffee. Slowly, his headache began to subside. Closing his eyes, he enjoyed the calming prattling sound of the coffee machine and the scent of basil as he rubbed the leaf between his thumb and middle finger. 

Suddenly, though, a loud clash sounded from the kitchen counters, making Paul jump up in his seat, his eyes flying open to see what had happened. His empty water glass lay scattered on the floor next to a dirty knife, but that wasn’t even what bewildered him most. Right there, on the kitchen counter where his glass had stood, sat a multi-coloured calico cat, looking very pleased with herself as she stared at him with her large green eyes. 

“What the…” Paul muttered to himself in confusion, not understanding how she possibly could have gotten there. Their flat was located on the fourth floor, and the only way she could have gotten inside would have been through the open kitchen window. But from where? She couldn’t have come from their building, seeing as their landlord didn’t allow for pets - Paul had asked him that himself when he had decided to move in with George, having hoped he could get a puppy, as he had always wanted one but never had one at home. The no he had received then still hurt now. 

Slowly, he rose from his seat, careful not to scare the cat and chase her away.

“What are you doing here, eh? Come on. Off you trot. You don’t live here.”

The cat, however, didn’t move and only looked at him curiously, as if he were the strange creature that had invaded her home, cocking her head to the side as she watched him approach her. The multitude of colours was a gorgeous sight to look at. The orange patches in her fur shone in the light on the sun, offering a striking contrast to the darker patches that covered most of her body, leaving little space for any white. She meowed and extended her neck towards him, as if encouraging him to pet her. 

“You’re a pretty cat, aren’t you? I bet your owner would be very happy to have you back, you know. Come on, girl. Just hop on back through the window,” Paul said gently, ignoring the thumping in his head. He had been about to reach out and carefully push her back towards the window when she let out another, somewhat annoyed, meow and jumped through his arms onto the kitchen floor. Paul followed her movements out of habit in the hope to catch her mid-jump, but failed and swore are his headache came rushing back, making his head pound. He cursed loudly and closed his eyes as he hissed through clenched teeth and curled up into himself. He waited for it to pass, before he turned back around to look for that damned cat again. He spotted her on the breakfast bar, idly licking her paws and showing little regard for the human who stood cursing on the other side of the kitchen. The coffee machine gave a little beep to let him know his coffee was done. 

“Fucking hell,” Paul muttered, and began approaching the cat again, hoping to hurry up and get her this time so his coffee wouldn’t go cold, while making sure he didn’t accidentally step in glass. The cat had originated from hell, Paul thought grudgingly as he tried his best to ignore the pounding in his head and the protests of his stomach. He stepped on tiptoes to make as little noise as possible and extended his hand to let the cat sniff at it first, which she accepted. God, why did this have to happen now? They’d never had a cat or whatever else come into their flat before, not even a spider, and now, exactly when he was hungover and standing half-naked in the kitchen with a pounding headache and a churning stomach, he had an unknown cat sitting on his breakfast bar, cleaning herself. 

She sniffed at his fingers once, but then turned and jumped away again, escaping Paul once more. Like before, he stupidly tried to follow her, but it only resulted in another bursting headache and more cussing. 

“Goddammit!” he moaned, rubbing his head, and the cat meowed again, looking pleased with herself as she regarded him from the top of their fridge. Paul shot her an accusatory glance and had been about to try grabbing her again, wanting to go for a swift approach this time, when the doorbell rang, stopping him mid-jump. 

“Just you wait,” he warned as the cat began licking her right paw again. She meowed challengingly in response, as if she had known exactly what he had been trying to achieve and had been thwarting him on purpose just because she could. “Stupid cat,” Paul mumbled more to himself than the cat, and had been about to pull the kitchen door close behind him to make sure the cat couldn’t get any further into the flat, when she slipped past his legs and into the living room. Paul let out an aspirated sigh, but decided to ignore her for the sake of his sanity and stumbled over to the front door.

“Yes? What?” he grumbled as he pulled the door open, only to freeze up in shock as he saw who was standing on his doorstep. 

“Afternoon, Paul. Nice to see you’re still very much alive. I was almost worried, you know,” John said, as he looked him up and down, making Paul painfully aware of his lack of clothes. He was leaning with one arm against the door frame and shot Paul another one of his smug little grins, of which Paul had seen too many that previous night.

“Wh-wha…” he tried to speak but the words wouldn’t come to him. John looked so different from how he was used to seeing him: he was wearing a pair of old, loose-fitting jeans and a white novelty t-shirt with the words “Daddy’s Little Kitten” written on it in cursive, pink letters, that was slightly too small for him. Whenever he raised his arm, his shirt would ride up and reveal a tiny bit of tummy that was far more distracting than it should be. He was bare-footed and his hair hung in loose curls around his face, making him appear more geeky than usual, especially in combination with his thick-rimmed glasses that were resting on the bridge of his aquiline nose. Paul licked his lips at the sight and tried not to blush or stare too much, keeping his eyes glued on John’s. 

“You still hangover, Princess? Not that I’m surprised. You were looking absolutely terrible when I dropped you off last night. You’re lucky your friend was home to look after you.” In a flash, many more memories from last night came rushing back to him, causing Paul to cringe internally and groan in embarrassment at his own stupid actions. He remembered how he and John had gotten drunk and smoked pot together, offered to them by some girl called Astrid, and how John had come onto him, how he had gotten sick and how John had helped him outside to get some fresh air, only to have Paul drunkenly kiss him before throwing up all over him. Twice. And now that same guy was standing at his door wearing the most distracting clothes while he was dressed in nothing but his boxers. Mortified, he shuffled over to the door and pushed it a little further close so he could stand behind it and procure at least some sense of privacy as he fought back a burning blush that was daring to appear on his cheeks, but it was already too late. God, why did he have to be such a stupid fuck up? He couldn’t even hang out with someone without making an ass of himself. 

“What are you doing here, John?” Paul asked, keeping his eyes focused on the other man as not to give away the burning embarrassment he was feeling. What mustn’t John think of him? 

John shrugged. “Just seeing how you were doing. And my cat kinda escaped my flat and ran through into yours through your kitchen window. I thought you might like it if took him back.”

“Wait. That’s your cat?” Paul asked, and right at that moment another loud crash could be heard coming from the living room behind him, making him wince and hope nothing of too much value had been broken. John scratched the back of his head as he offered Paul an apologising smile. 

“Yeah… he’s a bit of a trouble maker. Usually, I don’t let him out at all, seeing as Mr Walford will kill me if he ever finds out I have a cat. I almost had a heart attack when I saw him go out of the window. Luckily, he went into your flat and not some tell-tale who was going to rat me out.” Paul blinked at the mention of Mr Walford, who was their landlord, and, as it appeared, also John’s. 

“Mr Walford? You mean you live here?” he asked and John snickered as if he said something really stupid. 

“Mate, I’ve been your neighbour every since you moved in here and I’ve been your friend’s neighbour for even longer. But thanks for noticing,” he said sarcastically and the first thing that entered Paul’s mind was that he now finally knew who had been stealing his Internet. He didn’t even have to ask. This guy was totally using their Internet. The second thing was that John listened to Elvis as well. 

“Well,” he said with more sass than he had intended, though he supposed it was probably the hangover, “how could I have known if I hadn’t even seen you here before? It’s not like I can look through bloody walls.” 

“I noticed you, didn’t I?” John immediately replied and Paul was momentarily at a loss for words. Thankfully, right at that moment, something black, orange and white ran between their feet into the hallway and into what Paul now knew to be John’s flat, taking them both by surprise. 

“And Elvis’s back home. You’re not going to rat me out, are you, McCartney?” John asked with another wink as he reached over to close his front door, not wanting his cat to disappear again. Paul smiled at the name. 

“His name is Elvis?” he asked and he could see a slight hint of a blush appear on the other man’s cheek as he nodded. “I like that name.” 

“You into Elvis Presley?” John asked and Paul shrugged. 

“Kinda. A lot. Yeah.” 

“Good. As everyone should. Anyway, you ought to be glad I noticed you, you know. I wouldn’t have known where to go last night if I hadn’t. You couldn’t speak a word without throwing up. Not to mention that you passed out five minutes from our building. You’re heavier than you look,” John said and Paul flushed as the realisation that John must have carried him. Fuck his life. 

“Yeah… Thanks by the way. And sorry about the whole… you know,” he gestured vaguely at John’s clothes, “Too much alcohol and cheap pot probably wasn’t been the best idea I’ve had.” John laughed at that, loudly, and Paul couldn’t help but smile along with him. 

“I could’ve told you that, you know. Anyway, I’ll let you sleep off your hangover now. You look dead grotty, which is a real pity for what’s usually such a pretty face. I have taken up enough of your time as it is,” John said and shot him a wink as he pushed himself away from the door frame. “I’ll see you around, Paul.” He didn’t even give Paul any time to reply and simply turned around and slipped through the door of the neighbouring apartment into which his cat had disappeared only a few minutes ago, leaving Paul standing by the door. It took him a while to realise John had actually left, but when he did, Paul was quick to slam the door shut behind him and took his head in his hands as he scolded himself for being such a fucking embarrassing idiot. Not only had he kissed and thrown up all over his sexy, hot, Elvis-loving neighbour, but that neighbour had actually needed to carry him home as well! What the fuck was his life?!

By the time George got home that afternoon, Paul’s hungover state hadn’t changed much. Although he felt less sick and his headaches had lessened in fierceness and become less frequent, he was still living off aspirins and spend most of his time lying half dead on the couch, watching television with the sound muted and his back turned towards the screen, feeling sorry for himself. He was still in his boxers too, though he had pulled on an over-sized shirt and a pair of socks and had thrown a blanket over himself to shield himself from the cold and keep him warm. His phone lay silenced on the coffee table next to a large, almost empty glass of water and a half-eaten chocolate bar. He didn’t even bother lifting his head as George announced his presence, half-eaten doughnut in hand. 

“I see you’re having a wonderful day,” his friend said with a voice that was far too cheery and energised in Paul’s opinion. He put down his half-finished extra large white chocolate raspberry milkshake and box of doughnuts onto the coffee table and took a seat in the only armchair they had to finish eating his doughnut. It had a strawberry cheesecake filling; Paul could smell it from the couch. 

“I thought you had class?” Paul mumbled into his pillow, not even bothering with lifting his head to make himself more audible, fearing that if he would, the smell would only be worse and he’d need to throw up again. George on the other hand didn’t seem to mind the smell, and happily continued eating as he nodded. 

“I did.”

“Then why are you so happy?” 

“I study music, remember? Like, some of the classes are actually fun, believe it or not. Plus, I’m not hungover. Unlike some people.”

“I hate you,” Paul said, but George only looked smugger. 

“That’s what you get for drinking so much. Never mind the pot. For someone who says he’s been smoking weed since he was sixteen, you did make a rather rookie mistake last night, Paul. Drinking and smoking at the same time… and you’re actually surprised you nearly died last night.”

“Fuck off, Geo. I know, alright?” Paul moaned into the couch, but that only caused George to snicker in amusement. 

“What the hell did you even do last night, anyway? I thought you went to that poetry night thing?” 

“I did,” Paul moaned, rubbing his head in the pillow beneath his head, “some girl had weed on her and she offered me some. It was fine at first. But then I got sick and hot and dizzy and the like… that Lennon guy was kind enough to take me outside for some fresh air, but…”

“But what?” George asked, eagerly urging him on. He was enjoying this way too much, Paul thought, but had too little energy to say anything off it. 

“I threw up on him. Twice. And that isn’t even the worst of it,” Paul paused for a moment, not so much for dramatic effect, but rather to make sure he didn’t accidentally threw up again, though it worked both ways, he supposed. “I kissed him too.” 

“After you threw up on him?!”

“No! Ugh, no. Don’t be disgusting. Before that, you git!” For a moment there was no reaction from the armchair, but then, when Paul thought his friend was actually going to be supportive for a change, George burst out laughing. 

“It’s not funny, George!” he objected, but that only caused George to further descend into hysterics. 

“I’m sorry, Macca, but that’s golden! You drunkenly kissed a dude and then covered him in your sick. Twice! Poor guy. He must’ve felt awful, walking around like that. And his clothes… oh, that must have been disgusting!” 

“I didn’t mean for it to happen! God, I don’t even know why I kissed him in the first place! And to make matters worse, he actually had to fucking carry me home as well, and turns out he’s our neighbour too. I’m such a fucking idiot.” 

“Wait! Lennon, John Lennon, is our neighbour?” George asked, sitting up in his seat at the newfound information. For the first time, Paul turned his head to the side and looked up at him to see George already deep in thought, most likely trying to figure out how to get him to stop using their Internet. Suddenly, his face lit up, and Paul feared the worst. 

“Don’t even thinking about it, Geo. I’m not going by his apartment to ask if he’s been stealing our Internet,” he said and George’s face immediately fell. 

“Ah, but please, Paul! You know him. You’re already on first name basis with him - or first kiss basis, I should say - can’t you just pay him a little visit? You don’t have to drink tea with him or anything. Just… convince him to stop hacking my passwords.” 

“Don’t fucking think so, Geo, so you’d better get that idea out of your head right now.”

“But, Paul!”

“No! I’m not hearing this!”

“Why not?”

“Er… did you not just hear what I said? I threw up on him, twice, which should be reason enough, but then he also has a crush on me. And then this afternoon he came by our door because his cat escaped and I was just standing there, looking like a fucking zombie. A half-naked zombie, I might add. I’m never talking to that guy ever again. What mustn’t he be thinking of me?” 

“He has a crush on you? We could use that. You could-”

“No!” Paul interrupted George before he could finish that sentence, seriously fearing what he might suggest. “I’m not doing it. Not ever. You can visit him yourself if you care so much. For all I care he can use our Internet all he wants if that means I won’t have to see him ever again. I’m not doing it, and that’s the end of it, you hear?” Paul said firmly. George rolled his eyes at his friend and quickly finished the last bite of his doughnut, before leaning close to him. 

“Paul, sweetheart, people have done crazier things than make out with some random guy while drunk. People have thrown up over other people plenty of time before as well. Hell, you’ve done crazier things while drunk. And I’m sure John has too. You’re overreacting! You just got sick. Happens to everyone.” 

“But not all in one night, with the same person… And I wasn’t even dressed when he showed up, either… I’m such a fucking idiot! I knew I shouldn’t have gone to that bloody poetry night thing. It’s all your fault! You told me to go out and live life and shit.”

“I told you to go out and have fun, Paul, not to drink your ass off,” George said laughing, and Paul groaned into his pillow at the noise. He jumped in fright as he suddenly felt a hand come down on his butt cheek, causing his headache to come back twice as bad as before as he threw his head back in a reflex. 

“Fuck, George!” he snarled and reached behind himself to rub his butt and sooth the slight unease that slap had caused, as he buried his face into his pillow again. At least George hadn’t hit him hard, but Paul still felt like killing him for it. George, however, merely winked at him as Paul shot him his best death glare. 

“Stop fretting so much about it, Paul, and go take a shower. You still smell like pot,” he said and slapped him again, this time on the other cheek, before he picked his box of doughnuts and milkshake back up and took it into the kitchen to put them away for later, shouting a cheery “love you” at Paul as he went. Paul grumbled in annoyance, but forced himself to sit up and sniffed at himself, only to revolt at the stench of alcohol, marijuana smoke and sick that was still clinging to him. He smelled worse than Ringo’s sock drawer and he had always thought that to be impossible. Reluctantly, he pulled himself up and stumbled into the direction of his bedroom to grab some fresh clothes and easy-to-wear underwear, before he headed towards the bathroom to do as George had said and take his well-deserved shower. God, he fucking needed one. He hoped John hadn’t smelled him.

Once he stepped under the hot, steamy shower and he could feel the warm water hitting his naked skin, Paul felt his body relax for the first time since he had woken up that morning. He hadn’t noticed how tense and stressed he had been until then and let out a long, content sigh as he revelled the feeling of the hot water hitting his shoulders, massaging him as it washed away the last remains of the previous night. Nothing had ever felt better. 

For a long time, he merely stood there, taking it all in and letting his body warm up as the horrible smells were washed away, and let the water run down his face. Paul had always enjoyed showers, and it were moments like this, when he was simply standing there in the shower without anything or anyone around to interrupt or bother him, that were the most comforting. His water bill had truly suffered his last year as a medicine student. He would often forget the time while in the shower, and one day he had sat there for almost three hours, contemplating his existence, before his roommate had turned the water off and dragged him out of the bathroom. It was simply relaxing and comforting to be alone under a soft stream of warm water where you could stay as long as you liked until even the water didn’t feel real anymore. He wasn’t allowed to do that anymore, though, and he knew George always kept track of how long he had been in the bathroom whenever he took a shower. He understood why, though. It wasn’t healthy. He knew it wasn’t, but sometimes… it was good to have something unhealthy. 

For now, though, he allowed himself to enjoy it and let his worries wash off along with the filth. George was right: he shouldn’t be worrying about last night’s occurrences as much as he was. People did stupid shit while they were drunk or hangover, which is why they had invented those words in the first place, and he wasn’t any different - it didn’t matter. And besides, John hadn’t seemed to mind the state he had been in when he had knocked on his door earlier that afternoon. And what did he care about what that Lennon guy thought anyway? It wasn’t like was going to see him again. Nope. Never. 

Picking up his bottle of shampoo - lavender scented - Paul washed his hair and took an excessively long time messaging it in, before he finally washed all of the soap out the best he could and did the same with his conditioner, before he moving on to washing his body, paying special care to every little bit of skin to make sure he was completely clean. After he had rinsed off completely, he glance down at his cock to see he was semi-erect. He took it loosely in his hand and hummed as he felt a pleasant little tingle at the touch. He considered masturbating, weighing off the pros and cons of either option in his head, and eventually began to slowly stroke himself, sliding his hand up and down his shaft at a lazy rhythm, knowing that if wanted to masturbate today, he had to do it now, as he couldn’t do it in the privacy of his own bedroom due to George’s warped sense of personal space and privacy. He thought of Dot as he worked himself, and pictured the last time they had sex before he had left for London and soon he was softly moaning to himself. Still, he couldn’t really get into it. His thoughts kept drifting away to other things, most of them not even remotely sexual. He couldn’t find the calmness he needed, so eventually, much to his annoyance, he gave up and turned the shower off. He ignored his semi-erection as he dried himself off, and slowly but surely, it went away, allowing him to pull on his clean clothes with ease. He wrapped a towel around his head to dry his hair and make sure he didn’t leak water everywhere.

Stepping out of the bathroom, he saw George sitting on the couch playing another one of his video games while enjoying another one of his doughnuts. He offered Paul one as well as he saw him, putting his game on pause, but Paul quickly refused, feeling his stomach churn unpleasantly at that idea of eating one of those. George shrugged, but continued to look at him with what was undeniable amusement.

“Don’t you dare ask me again,” Paul warned him, and George shrugged innocuously in response, which only made Paul more worried and suspicious. 

“I haven’t even said anything!” George said, outraged, and Paul rolled his eyes at the terrible lie. “However,” George continued a little later, and Paul groaned in annoyance and started heading towards his bedroom, ignoring his friend as he continued the question Paul had already known he would ask, “if you could hop by our lovely neighbour, that would be wonderful!”

“Don’t think so, George. Do it yourself if you’re that worked up about it. I’m going to bed.”

“But, Paul,” George whined, doing his utter best to use the tricks Paul had taught him himself during their first trip together to pick up girls and talk yourself out of unpleasant situations, such as detention and speeding tickets. He even attempted to pull of the pout, but Paul was too acquainted with those techniques for them to work on him. 

“No, George,” he simply said and slammed his bedroom door shut behind him. He sighed a sigh of relief as he let himself fall onto his bed, letting himself sink away in his soft, plushy blankets, hoping he’d never have to get up again. From behind his wall, he could hear Elvis’s voice singing Love Me Tender. It was muted and dull, but it was there, and Paul smiled as he rolled onto his back and listened. At least he listened to Elvis, he though, and closed his eyes.

Previous Chapter

[seangallen24]

Lana Del Rey and her ‘Lust for Life’

Lana Del Rey’s latest full length LP ‘Lust for Life’ is somewhat of a departure from her previous four records. Even on first glance this body of work is different. Take a look at the album’s artwork. That may be the same truck as used on the cover of 2012′s ‘Born to Die’. However, Lana is smiling. Yes, I repeat. Lana Del Rey is smiling. 

To date, Lana Del Rey’s discography has been a sombre recount of her troubled past, violent relationships and dark thoughts. Since ‘Video Games’ went viral online in 2011, Del Rey has managed to rally a hugely fanatical fan base of ‘kids’ who literally worship her. However, it is fair to say that she has rubbed quite a few people up the wrong way in the process. From her controversial ‘Ride’ music video, to the line ‘he hit me and it felt like a kiss’ on 2014′s ‘Ultraviolence’, Lana has been constantly criticised for glorifying drug abuse and domestic violence. In the last six years, the cinematic sound and vintage visuals have remained consistent with her four records documenting what she describes as ‘faded Hollywood glamour’. 

Lust for Life is different. For the first time in Del Rey’s career she appears to be living in the real world. 

Lead single ‘Love’ begins the album. The opening line, ‘look at you kids with your vintage music’ immediately addresses her army of dedicated fans who for the past six years have found comfort in her gloomy, sorrowful sound. 

“You’re part of the past, but now you’re the future. Signals crossing can get confusing. It’s enough just to make you feel crazy, crazy, crazy…”

These are perhaps my favourite lines of the song. The ‘kids’ of whom Lana speaks of, are us, the fans. Here Lana acknowledges that a lot of us are at crossroads in our lives. Not only are we ‘young’ and having to make difficult choices about education, careers and relationships; but today’s political climate is far from straightforward. With big decisions that are sure to effect us all, being made by such radical leaders, it’s enough just to make you feel crazy.  With ‘Love’, Lana encapsulates a desire to almost comfort her fans during this uncertain time.

You can read my full thoughts on the track ‘Love’ here.

The title track follows, and features The Weeknd, the first of five collaborations on the record. Never before has Lana included a feature on one of her albums, another thing marking ‘Lust for Life’ as a step in a new direction. This song is perhaps the most upbeat of the 16 tracks. As The Weeknd and Lana sing about this romantic lust for one another, the song’s deeper meaning becomes evident in lines such as, ‘cause we're the masters of our own fate, we're the captains of our own souls...there's no need for us to hesitate...’

Among the other four collaborations on Lust for Life, is the legendary Stevie Nicks. ‘Beautiful People, Beautiful Problems’ is by far one of the records most stripped back tracks. Lana and Stevie sing about how trivial a lot of our personal problems can seem in the grand scheme of things, ‘beautiful problems, God knows we've got them’. Their quite different vocal styles work surprisingly beautifully together, Del Rey’s adoration for Nicks is very noticeable as they harmonise towards the end of the song.

On ‘Coachella - Woodstock in my Mind’, Lana ponders over her time spent at this year’s Coachella music festival. The song tackles Lana’s inability to kick back and relax whilst tensions rise between North Korea and her country. She sings about turning off the music and almost feeling guilty for enjoying something so insignificant as Coachella at such a dangerous time.

‘What about all these children and all their children's children, and why am I even wondering that today? Maybe my contribution could be as small as hoping, that words could turn to birds and birds would send my thoughts your way.’

Lana Del Rey’s ‘contribution’ is a main theme on Lust for Life. On the album’s closing track ‘Get Free’ she sings, ‘this is my commitment, my modern manifesto. I'm doing it for all of us...’, lyrics which are a million miles from those on her previous four LPs. 

‘I made my first four albums for me, but this one is for my fans and about where I hope we are all headed.’

‘Change’, the album’s penultimate track, is another moment on the record where Lana sings about the big picture. The song is a very simple piano ballad and by far the most modest cut from the album. It is brilliantly placed towards the end of the record as it’s optimism and huge sense of hope ends Lust for Life in a similar way it began. On ‘Love’ Lana sings ‘don’t worry baby’, and on ‘Change’ she urges that, ‘maybe it's enough to just be where we are...’

‘Every time that we run, we don't know what it's from, now we finally slow down, we feel close to it. There's a change gonna come, I don't know where or when but whenever it does, we'll be here for it.’

The line, ‘there's something in the wind, I can feel it blowing in. It's coming in softly on the wings of a song’ references her wish that, ‘words could turn to birds and birds would send my thoughts your way’ on ‘Coachella - Woodstock in my Mind’. Moments like these are peppered throughout the record for the savvy among listeners who piece together Del Rey’s lyrics. 

As well as a lyrical shift, Lana’s production styles also differ on Lust for Life. Don’t get me wrong, her signature cinematic, ethereal vibe is very much present on tracks such as ‘13 Beaches’ and ‘White Mustang’, as is the more folky feel of tracks ten to thirteen. However, as well as her long time collaborator and producer Rick Nowels, there are a number of different producers on Lust for Life.

'Summer Bummer’ and ‘Groupie Love’ both feature rapper A$AP Rocky; friend of Lana’s and the artist who featured in Del Rey’s 2012 music video for National Anthem. Both these tracks, along with ‘In My Feelings’ and ‘Coachella - Woodstock in my Mind’, are quite obviously hip-hop inspired. ‘Summer Bummer’ in particular is built around a heavy hip-hop beat. Lana’s high-pitched vocals float in and out and almost take a back seat as Rocky and Playboi Carti take the lead with their verses.

Despite Lust for Life’s generally upbeat tone, the record is not without it’s dark, melancholy moments. On the track ‘Heroin’, possibly the most ‘Lana Del Rey’ sounding song on the record, she sings about flying to the moon and dreaming about the drug. The line ‘writing in blood on my walls and shit’ is very Ultraviolence, and of course, in true LDR style, she had to give her old man a shout out.

‘13 Beaches’ has to be my favourite track on the album. Again, this song, like most tracks on Lust for Life, has a deeper meaning which isn’t obvious on first listen. The intro of the song contains a vocal sample from the 1962 horror movie Carnival Of Souls. 

‘I don't belong in the world, that's what it is. Something separates me from other people. Everywhere I turn, there's something blocking my escape’ 

From there, the song turns into yet another beacon of hope for fans. She sings about freedom and feeling ‘hazy in the ballroom of my mind’.  The main premise of the song being that although it may take a while, you will ultimately find happiness and solitude. 

‘It took thirteen beaches to find one empty, but finally, I'm fine.’

Lust for Life is everything we love about Lana Del Rey and something which none of us ever thought she would make. 

Sonically, she has turned it up a notch. Lyrically, she has really switched it up. 

The darkness is still there; tracks like ‘Cherry’ and ‘White Mustang’ showcase that she isn’t done singing about her overly complex love life. However, with track titles like ‘God Bless America - And All The Beautiful Women In It’ and ‘When the World Was at War We Kept Dancing’ Lana has really delivered a topical album which is exactly what she says it is; her ‘modern manifesto’. 

Lust for Life is out now.

[gramilano]

Yasmine Naghdi in rehearsal for Tarantella, The Royal Ballet © 2017 ROH. Photograph by Bill Cooper

I’ve interviewed The Royal Ballet’s principal ballerina Yasmine Naghdi several times over the past five years. The first time, she was a soloist and preparing to debut as Juliet with Matthew Ball as Romeo. The last time was 18-months ago, a few months after her debut in Swan Lake, a role she was scheduled to reprise this spring, but then The Royal Opera House closed its doors.

She is currently on holiday in my adopted homeland, Italy. However, while I’m in the north by the Ligurian Sea, Yasmine and her Italian boyfriend are in Puglia, the heel of Italy’s boot. I spoke to her via Skype in early May and asked her whether she was with him in lockdown.

We’re in quarantine in our flat. I think when we last spoke, it must have been early on in our relationship. We’re now coming up to two years together.

How’s your Italian?

I’m actually learning Italian. I love languages, and as his parents don’t speak much English, it’s a good incentive for me to be able to speak their language and communicate with them.

I need to speak as it is the best way to learn, so I’m jealous of people like you who are there often. I spent a little bit of time in Sicily with his family over the new year and just hearing them speak was the best way for me to absorb it and try and speak back. I felt that I’d made really good progress over those three days, but then you take a step back when you come home again. I have one or two lessons a week via Skype at the moment, now that I have a bit more time on my hands.

It’s good to have another language in my pocket. I speak a good amount of French and a little bit of Flemish. My mother’s Belgian so I grew up hearing [the family] speak, and although I never learned to read or write Flemish, I spent holidays there and I learnt it quite well, hearing it all the time. I’ve been around languages all my life, so I just love to have another one.

It’s a good outlet for me as well, as the ballet work uses a different part of the brain. So finishing the day and studying written and spoken Italian is very stimulating, and I enjoy it.

Yasmine Naghdi as Kitri in Don Quixote, The Royal Ballet © 2019 ROH. Photograph by Andrej Uspenski

Yasmine Naghdi in Dances at a Gathering, The Royal Ballet ©2020 ROH. Photograph by Bill Cooper

So tell me about life in lockdown.

Well, it’s definitely been an adjustment. As a dancer, you’re constantly working to a schedule. You always have a goal in mind, the performance you’re working towards, a deadline. When I was a student, it was the same thing: schedules, deadlines and goals. For that all to come to a complete halt is a real shock, and there’s nothing you can do about it. We can’t work from home as we need the rehearsal studio. We need each other to dance with. We need the stage and the audience to be there for us. So for dancers, it’s impossible, and I think the acceptance of that is the first step.

How have you been coping without a schedule?

I just needed to find a way to have my own daily schedule. I love having structure. I make lists every day – maybe I’m a bit OCD. Whether cleaning my flat, doing a ballet class, cooking a new meal, researching something, or having an Italian lesson, I’ve structured my day to give me a little schedule. That helped me a lot in the early days of lockdown. What’s been really great is Kevin [O’Hare], our director, together with The Royal Ballet health care team, has arranged for us to have ballet classes, Pilates, yoga and strength training through Zoom.

We’ve got an amazing weekly schedule: Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Saturday, floor barre and ballet class. And we’re all kind of logging on and seeing each other in our various homes with people holding onto the kitchen counter, people holding the sofa. It’s really fun. As you know, there are dancers from all around the world, in all the different time zones, so you’ve got someone who logs on at 5 am in Miami or in Brazil or Japan. It’s really fun to see everyone come together and it feels family orientated with all of us joining in for our daily ballet class. And then on Tuesday and Thursdays, we’re provided with a yoga session, and strength training, like cardio and weights. People use tins cans as substitute weights! And then we also have Pilates, so we’re being provided with a really great way to maintain some fitness at home. Hopefully, it won’t be a complete shock to the body when we eventually go back to the opera house.

How does Pilates and so on work on Zoom?

Well, for example, the Pilates teacher will set an exercise doing the first step with us, and then she’ll come and look at the screen to see all of us and then give us some corrections. It’s really nice that it’s quite intimate and that just with The Royal Ballet members. But I know that Kevin has made these classes also available to external companies, which is so wonderful. So they’ve organised it so that everyone can have an allocated time.

Corybantic Games. Lauren Cuthbertson & Yasmine Naghdi. © ROH, 2018. Photographed by Andrej Uspenski

Lauren [Cuthbertson] told be about the delivery of Harlequin dance flooring and a barre?

That is a saving grace because pointe shoes on a wooden floor is a no-no. So for weeks and weeks, I wasn’t able to do any form of a pirouette because I was worried about slipping. But then Kevin spoke with Aud Jebsen who very generously helped get Harlequin deliveries to everyone’s home, even in Brazil and the States. Everyone now has these Harlequin floors, which is very, very helpful for pointe shoes especially because it gives just the right amount of grip and friction without it being sticky, if you see what I mean. We were quite spoiled by that delivery.

I imagine that a grand jeté isn’t possible, but how much can you do?

Well I can jump on my exercise mat, which is quite thick, and first of all, it is kind to my neighbours – I haven’t had any complaints about loud jumping! It absorbs the sound, and I can do first position échappés and some sissonne side, for example. And secondly, it’s kind for my bones as well, because if you jump on a hard floor, there’s a risk of getting a dropped metatarsal or a strain in the shin. So I didn’t want to risk any of that. I also try to do a little bit of plyometric training every so often just to ensure that those muscles are still there and active. But like you said, grand jetés aren’t quite possible, but what I do do is kind of mark jetés, just for the muscle memory.

As you can’t travel far on your mat, what do you do for cardio and your stamina?

I always thought that running was not good for dancers: it’s bad for knees, it’s bad for ankles, and it’s in parallel, and we’re not really used to having that impact in parallel position. But when we went into lockdown, we got an email from our healthcare team saying that they wanted us to be open-minded about running. They said that they wanted us to give our muscles and bones the feeling of impact. That way, it’s not a complete shock to the system when we do return to work because, of course, that’s our biggest fear. None of the dancers has ever had a break this long unless they’ve been injured, so everyone’s fearful about coming back to work and then getting injured.

So I started running a little bit and, of course, I panicked at first because I thought, oh my god, I’m going to be exhausted. I’m used to working anaerobically, which is very stop-start with intense bursts and then rest. With running, it’s just consistent cardio. But once I started doing it, and I started quite slowly, I really surprised myself at how long I could run for. One day I was running with my boyfriend, and he encouraged me to run for nearly an hour [she laughs], and I hated him a little bit after that! I would never have thought I would be able to run an hour in my life, but I did it. So there’s a first, and I’ve also invested in a skipping rope because I’ve heard that it’s a really good way to get your heart rate up as well. I’ve been enjoying different ways to stay fit and exercise during this time.

Matthew Ball and Yasmine Naghdi as Romeo and Juliet ©2015 ROH. Photographed by Alice Pennefather

Have you ever had injuries that have kept you off stage for a lengthy period?

I have been incredibly lucky with injuries. I had one injury, which was shin splints, when I was 16 years old, and I put that down to training at the same time as growing with the body having to keep up with the demands. I never stopped dancing, but I had to stop jumping for about three weeks because of the strain it was putting on my shins. As you’re young, you bounce back quite quickly. That was the only dance-related injury where I had to sort of take a step back. There have been other niggles here and there, which maybe took a day or two, but nothing severe.

However, last summer we were on holiday and I was walking on a rocky beach. I lost my balance when a boulder kind of shook loose and I landed really badly. It was at a bit of a height and I dropped down on my left ankle and, I kid you not, it swelled up to the size of a grapefruit. Of course, being on holiday, I’m panicking, and I thought immediately that I’d broken it. We drove to the local hospital, and I managed to get an x-ray which ruled out a break, but there was a severe sprain.

I had something like five weeks until I was meant to do Swan Lake at the Kremlin Palace. It was something I was really excited about and looking forward to, but of course, you’ve got all the fouettés on that left foot. I’d never had such a severe sprain before, so I had no idea of how long it would take to get that strength back. That was the first injury I’ve ever had that took me completely off dancing for, I’d say, about six to eight weeks. But, in the grand scheme of things, I consider myself still incredibly lucky because that’s not long compared to what a lot of other dancers have had to go through. People that have had a snapped ACL need a year to recover and stress fractures can take a lot longer. So I still consider myself really, really lucky. It’s just silly that it was unrelated to dance.

So many people have said that to me that these things happen when you’re off your guard. I said to my parents over and over that I couldn’t believe the amount of difficult ballets I’ve done, the risks that I’ve taken, the near injury moments that have happened to me on stage and yet I walk away unscathed. And then on holiday I fall badly on my ankle and this happens. It’s unbelievable.

I missed dancing the mistress in Manon, two performances, and I had to cancel the performances at the Kremlin. It took me until January, so a good six months, to dance without pain. My first performance back from that injury was a live cinema relay when I danced the second movement pas de deux of Concerto, so no pressure! And then my second performance back was the opening night of Sleeping Beauty. So again…

The power of the mind and the amazing power of the body to heal… it teaches you a lot to have an injury like that.

Yasmine Naghdi in rehearsal for Don Quixote, The Royal Ballet © 2019 ROH. Photograph by Andrej Uspenski

Yasmine Naghdi and Marcelino Sambé in rehearsal for Don Quixote, The Royal Ballet © 2019 ROH. Photograph by Andrej Uspenski

What should you have been dancing in this in this period? Are you missing out on any debuts?

I had a couple of Wayne McGregor works because what was remaining of the rest of our season was the Live Fire Exercise, Prodigal Son and Corybantic Games bill and I was meant to debut in Live Fire Exercise, so I’ve missed out on that. Also, there were my three Swan Lake performances that I was due to dance with Matthew Ball. That was quite sad because I love Swan Lake as I really connect with this ballet and I was revisiting it for the second time after having danced it for the first time two years ago in 2018.

On the scheduled day of my first performance this year, I got a phone call from Kevin, my director, it was so sweet. It was 7.30, which is usually our start time, and he said, “I was just thinking of you. I can’t believe that now the curtain would be going up on Swan Lake, and we would have all been settling down to watch the show. It’s just so surreal to think that it’s not happening.” Then, for the whole evening, I was looking at the clock going, “OK, it’s 8.30, and the curtain would have been down after the white act,” and, “Now I would have been doing fouettés,” and, “Now the curtain would have been coming down at the end,” and “Now I would have been on the tube home.” I was kind of following it with the timings for everything would have been happening… I couldn’t help it.

It’s thoughtful that he called you.

So lovely. Kevin said he looked in his diary and saw that it was our performance that night. It was nice to get a call from him and just have a general chat.

Also, I think I was going to be involved in the sequel to [Wayne McGregor’s] The Dante Project. No casting had really been mentioned, but it was in the pipeline. Some rehearsals were due to start during the first week of lockdown. Then we had a tour to Doncaster that we would have been doing in July. So not too much, but I felt bad about the Swan Lakes. I have a feeling it might return soon because we missed so many performances and it’s such a wonderful ballet and such an audience pleaser.

Yasmine Naghdi as Odette in Swan Lake, The Royal Ballet © 2018 ROH. Photograph by Bill Cooper

Yasmine Naghdi as Odile in Swan Lake, The Royal Ballet © 2018 ROH. Photograph by Bill Cooper

Why do you love Swan Lake? Some dancers don’t enjoy its challenges.

You know, you either love it or hate it, I think. I’ve always been someone that loves a challenge and pushing myself to try and achieve something that’s hard to reach. It then feels even better if it goes well, and you just think, “Oh, I’ve done it. I’ve achieved what I dreamed of.”

Sleeping Beauty and Swan Lake are the two hardest classical ballets in the repertoire without a doubt. When you dance either of those ballets, and you feel that you’ve done them well, it’s the best feeling in the world to hear that audience applaud after all the hard work you put in.

In Swan Lake, I love the contrast of the roles; being two people in the same ballet. I love dancing very quietly, peacefully, and gracefully as the white swan.

With that wonderful music – especially played live in a theatre.

Of course, the music is so famous and, as you say, live music is just irreplaceable for the feeling that it gives you.

And then you morph into the black swan.

Putting on that costume starts the change, and then the headdress goes on, and the makeup becomes more dramatic, and then you see yourself in this stunning black glittering tutu and you have to be a completely different person. It’s really adrenalin-fuelled. You’ve got that balance in arabesque, and you’re building up to it and, although you’re tired, you have to contain yourself. Then you’ve got this very long solo with the menège at the end, and so you’re even more tired when you have to come on and do 32 fouettés well, so it’s a great challenge. I love that feeling when it goes well, and that’s why I really love this ballet.

Yasmine Naghdi as Giselle in Giselle, The Royal Ballet © 2018 ROH. Photographed by Helen Maybanks

Have you been watching some of the dance videos that companies have been offering online?

Yes, I have. It’s so wonderful. I was just thinking that during this time what’s really helping people is art. That’s why it’s so important for people to have that escapism through various means, be it through music or through movement. Having ballet streamed has offered people a little moment to forget about what’s going on in the world right now and allow themselves to be transported a little. I tuned in to all of the Royal Ballet screenings, the Mayerling from Stuttgart, and the various videos that are coming from Russian companies. I saw English National Ballet’s Dust, which was really beautiful, and Hofesh Shechter’s Clowns – that was really interesting.

Just dance?

I am not a ballet bunhead, so to speak. I’m not someone who watches ballet videos all day. I never really was. They inspired me obviously, and from time to time, yes, but I would never want to be completely immersed in it, day and night. I love having a normal life alongside my ballet life. It’s different for everyone, and some people need to be in it all the time, but for me, I love the balance, that work/life balance. And I think it makes me appreciate it more when I come back to it.

So in terms of non-ballet stuff, we’ve been watching a lot of Netflix – I heard that their shares have completely skyrocketed during this time. I really enjoy watching Killing Eve, which is on BBC iPlayer.

I also watched a documentary about Manolo Blahnik, the shoe designer [MANOLO: The Boy Who Made Shoes for Lizards], which is fantastic. He’s such a character, really upbeat – the kind of guy you just want to be best friends with. I started Ozark because everyone was talking about it, but it didn’t click with me for some reason.

It’s very dark.

VERY dark. I wanted to like it so badly because everyone was just raving and raving about it, but unfortunately, no. We’ve also watched a Spanish series called Elite, which is fun, full of very good looking people at a school, but when three students from an underprivileged background arrive on a scholarship, someone gets murdered. It’s kind of a murder mystery. It’s definitely glossy, but it’s been great for quarantine, and it’s got a really nice soundtrack.

I also love watching Chef’s Table on Netflix. I don’t know if you’ve seen any of those.

I’m a fan.

Oh, I’m so glad, me too. I’ve been watching a lot of those because it’s really artistic. I said to my boyfriend that these chefs are artists expressing themselves through their food.

I remember you telling me that you love cooking.

I’m doing a lot of cooking, and this has been the perfect time because I’m not exhausted, and I’m not limited with time. At the end of the workday, when I finish at 6.30 and come home, I just want to make a really quick pasta to get my carbs, with some chicken for example, and I don’t have time or energy to experiment. Now, during this time, I’ve been experimenting with different cuisines: some Chinese fusion food and a lot of Italian food. I’m trying to perfect my spaghetti alle vongole which is really good.

I’ll believe you.

No really! We’re making fresh pasta, and we’ve bought basil plants. Having an Italian around the house has taught me to buy high-quality ingredients all the time, which I really appreciate. So that’s been something I’ve enjoyed. Dinner is being planned right from the morning.

Vadim Muntagirov and Yasmine Naghdi in Le Corsaire, photo Andrej Uspenski

You sound very positive and happy, but I imagine you’ve had some down moments too?

We’re only human. Yes, of course there are down days, most definitely. We’re all going through ups and downs and sometimes I kind of just wake up feeling a bit low and uninspired. On those days, I’ve learned not to get angry at myself at feeling that way, and if I want a day to just sort of be in a slump, I have to let myself and I shouldn’t fight that feeling. I shouldn’t try and push past it because then I irritate myself even more. I’m getting a really good amount of sleep every night, so I can’t blame it on being tired, but I’ve learned to understand myself and those days.

I think that quarantine time has taught me to listen to my body in a psychological way rather than just how it is feeling, like “Oh, I’m tired because I went from 10.30 to 6.30 yesterday,” or, “I had a late performance last night.”

On those days I just try and get out of the house and get some fresh air, because it can be hard staying in all the time. I know that with you in Italy it is even more strict than it is here. We’ve been so lucky being allowed to go up to the park, allowed to do exercise outdoors. So I’ll try and push myself to go for a run, which, you know, get those endorphins going.

Are you keep in contact with friends and share these feelings with them?

Oh yes. It’s been great taking time to call people and chat to people a little bit more. There was a time that I was calling my colleagues on a daily basis and I thought, you know what, I’m actually talking to them more than I would normally at work because I would be in rehearsal here and they would be there. It’s been nice to connect with people.

LA BAYADERE The Royal Ballet ROH Covent Garden, Solor; Steven McRae, Gamzatti; Yasmine Naghdi, Nikiya; Akane Takada, The High Brahmin; Alastair Marriott,

Yasmine Naghdi as Princess Aurora in The Sleeping Beauty, The Royal Ballet © 2017 ROH. Photograph by Bill Cooper

What other positive things will you take away from this quarantine period?

I hope that coming out of this will give people a lot of positivity. I think it will definitely change the way people think about life in general, about what’s important. All the material things are not as important as people thought, and I’ve been appreciating the simple things in life. Being able to go to the supermarket and then make a good meal is a simple pleasure. I found myself returning to some old ways.

For example?

We bought some board games and have been playing those together. You know, we’ve been playing Scrabble quite a lot. I’ve been really enjoying it, and I would never have done that. I think it’s taking time to do things that we used to enjoy doing back in the day.

It’s definitely made me far more appreciative about things that we have but usually took for granted. Being able to give your best friend a hug, you know, or being able to see your family regularly. It’s kind of crazy, but I’ve not seen my sister since January. She went on a skiing trip before the lockdown and then decided to stay in Normandy with her French boyfriend.

It’s been such a stressful time for so many – especially the key workers who are working to save people’s lives or the people who are ill at the moment. I think it’s made me grateful to be in my position, keeping in mind all of those who are really going through a difficult time. It is a great time for reflection in general.

The Firebird. Edward Watson and Yasmine Naghdi. ©ROH, 2019. Photo by Tristram Kenton

The Firebird. Yasmine Naghdi and Edward Watson. ©ROH, 2019. Photo by Tristram Kenton

[Interview] The Royal Ballet’s Yasmine Naghdi: a time to reflect I’ve interviewed The Royal Ballet’s principal ballerina Yasmine Naghdi several times over the past five years. The first time, she was a soloist and preparing to debut as Juliet with Matthew Ball as Romeo.