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cracked-pean · 3 years

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Not Knowing Pt.1

Characters: Derek Hale, Female! Reader, Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, Lydia Martin, Peter Hale, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd, Isaac Lahey, Kate Argent, Deaton (small appearance)

Word Count: 4,951

Warnings: Kidnapping, Torture/Punishments(?), Angst.

Part 2

Masterlist

A/N: So it’s been a while. Um, this really came at me out of nowhere and turned into a whole damn novel, not really but it was LONG. So cut them down to two parts. There’s one scene from two shows that inspired this and I just to write it. One is from ‘Criminal Minds’ and the other is from ‘Leverage’. I’m sure y’all have figured them out by the warnings I posted but hope y’all enjoy them. Sorry for any errors and any warnings I missed (let me know if I did so I can tag them) Leave me your thoughts. Ok, enjoy!

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The door to the loft made a loud noise as it slid open and made contact with the wall. The small group of friends stopped mid conversation as they turned their attention to the sound. A look of confusion written on their faces quickly changed to concern. Stiles appeared barely holding himself up against the wall, his left arm wrapped across his torso holding onto his right side and slightly out of breath. Scott being the closest to him, quickly made his way over and caught him before meeting the ground. Stiles was in bad condition. He was covered in dirt and his shirt was torn in random places. There was a nasty bruise forming around one of his eyes. His bottom lip had a gash across it and the werewolves could smell fresh blood on him. There were wincing sounds coming off him as he tried to move.

"Stiles, what happened? Who did this to you?" Scott asked, helping guide his best friend into the loft. A small groan escaped his lips as he took a seat on the red couch in the living room, the others slowly making way over too.

Derek being up in his room quickly finished getting dressed after hearing the bang of the loft door open. Thinking that the two friends had arrived with the food made his way down the spiral staircase, but the alpha's face instantly hardened. Everyone was surrounding the long couch with an injured Stiles laid across it, and Scott beside him gripping one of his hands drawing out the pain. But their female friend was nowhere in sight.

"Stiles, what happened? Where's [Y/N]?"

Derek walked over to them and stood in front of the pair, arms crossed. The worry was there, but right now he had to remain calm and figure out why there was an injured pack member and another missing.

Stiles kept his eyes on the ceiling not wanting to look at them. Throughout the whole drive to the loft, was filled with nerves and fear. He thought of how he would explain to his friends that he had lost their friend.

"Stiles," the boy winced at Derek's tone of voice.

Letting out a shaky breath, sad whiskey brown eyes made contact with concerned dark green ones.

"They came out of nowhere. I wasn't able to save her."

The two friends turned the corner of the store making their way to Stiles’ Jeep with a cart full of groceries. It was Friday and their turn to do the supply run for their weekly get together. Not like they see each other almost everyday already but who could stop them.

“You think we have enough?” [Y/N] asked as she neared the vehicle.

Stiles scoffed and grabbed a few bags, “[Y/N/N], we basically purchased the whole store. I think we’ll be fine,” he assured her.

Once they had finished loading, she offered to take the cart back to the rack by the doors while he started up the Jeep. Stiles buckled in and looked out his window seeing [Y/N] turn the corner to put away the cart. He glanced down to his phone, ready to text the pack they were on their way, when the passenger door opened and closed.

Still looking at his phone he spoke, “That was fast. Did you ru-” He turned to look at his friend but was greeted with something worse.

Kate. They hadn't seen her since Mexico. They thought she had bled out by the nasty cuts Derek had given her. But then, Argent had informed them that he and a few of his men had seen her down in New Orleans. That was 4 months ago. Somewhere along the way, the hunters lost track of her. She most likely caught onto them and hid. Now they didn’t know where she was. They didn’t pay much attention to her, thinking the Werejaguar wouldn’t make her way to them, but still stayed alert and asked Argent for updates just in case.

“Aw, what’s the matter Stiles, not happy to see,” she gave him a pout.

“At the moment, no. But who ever is really,” he bit back.

She made herself comfortable in the seat. Stiles watched her every move, not really sure what her intentions were. "You know it wasn't very smart of you to park beside the building. Where it's dark and away from the public eye." She gave him a knowing look, “I’d be careful if I were you,” she glanced at the outer rear view mirror. “We would hate for your friend to get hurt.”

Realization dawned on him. [Y/N]. He glanced at the rearview mirror and saw her trapped in the arms of a large guy, with his hand over her mouth. He quickly scrambled out of the Jeep and stood near the rear. Her eyes were wide with a few tears running down her cheeks. She had a few scratch marks on her cheek, Kate's doing most likely and the knees of her Jean's were dirty.

"Let her go you big lug," a pair of hands came up behind him holding on to his arms, keeping him in place. Stiles glanced at the guy, knowing well that there was no chance he'd win that fight but he would sure as hell try. Kate came into view and made her way to [Y/N] and her minion. She leaned closely to the scared girl's face and grinned. She brings up a hand to caress her hair as [Y/N] shuts her eyes flinching and tries to move away.

“Now isn’t she a pretty face. I see why the big bad wolf is fond of her,” she smirked.

Stiles noticed two more guys appear from behind the building. He was out numbered and had no chance from getting out of the guy's grip, “Just tell us what you want.”

A cackle left her lips. What she wanted? What she wanted was for them to feel the hurt and loss that she went through. She obviously couldn’t get her old life back. She lost her niece, her home, her family. And these rugrats got to live on with their lives as if nothing had ever happened.

“What I want, you can’t give to me. So I'm going to do the next big thing,” she gave a look to the guy holding on to the boy and then a slight nod. Stiles was thrown onto the ground following a kick to the stomach. [Y/N] thrashed in her captor’s grasp as she tried to get out of his hold to get to her friend and help, but was no use. She winced as they began to kick and punch him. Blow after blow and all she was able to do was watch as the look on Kate’s face showed satisfaction from the outcome. Once the blonde thought he had had enough, she made her way to him, the men stepping aside as she kneeled down to his level. Kate placed a hand below his chin and made him look at her.

“I lost my niece to you monsters. Now it’s my turn to make you feel my pain,” she leaned closer to his ear, “but worse.”

After Stiles had explained what happened at the mini mart, it was safe to say the group was pissed. The wolves more than anything. They had called over Deaton to check on him to make sure he didn’t have any sprained or broken bones. He had a few bruised ribs and some deep cuts on his head and on his arms, but nothing that a few stitches and some rest couldn’t fix. He shortly fell asleep on the couch after the vet had cleaned his cuts and given him some pain killers and left.

“Why would she only take [Y/N], why not both,” Malia questioned glancing at Stiles.

Lydia slightly rolled her eyes, “She was clearly keeping tabs on us. [Y/N] is the glue of this group, Kate must have known it would hurt us more if she went after her. Also, didn’t you hear what she said? She obviously knows [Y/N] is Derek’s weak spot even if [Y/N] herself doesn’t know it.”

The group took a glance at Derek, he was standing by the window looking out with a frown on his face and arms crossed. It was true. Derek did have a soft spot for the girl. She was his weakness and she didn't even know it. The pack knew he had feelings for her, but Derek chose from the beginning to not act upon them. But he was whipped. The small glances he made her way when she wasn't looking. When the pack would train together, Derek was still strict with the rest but just a bit less with her. He would always seem a bit lighter when she was present in the room and it took for her to be gone a whole week visiting family for the pack to notice his change in behavior and connect the dots. During fights, no matter what, he would always try to keep an eye on her. Making sure she was holding her own and at the ready to jump in if needed to. But like Kate and his friends said, he had a soft spot for her. He didn't want to act upon his feelings and have something start between the two of them for this very reason. If word got out that the alpha of The Hale Pack had a significant other, then everyone, allies and enemies would use her against him. Now, even when not getting together he had failed to keep her safe.

Derek closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh. Standing here and moping wasn’t going to help [Y/N] and the pack in locating her. He uncrossed his arms, got into alpha mode and made his way to the metal table where they were all gathered. He needed to treat this situation with a calm and clear mind, even if he was equally as scared as the others on the inside.

“Let’s split up and search the area for her," he began. "I’ll go check the store’s parking lot to see if I can catch her scent. Scott, Isaac, go to Argent’s house and see if you can get any info on Kate. Her last known location, previous ones, contacts, properties, anything. Malia, Peter, you check the woods. You’re more skilled in the outdoors, they could have taken a path through there. Erica and Boyd, you search the edge of town. Maybe Kate’s scent could be caught if she did leave the area. Lyd-”

“I’ll stay with Stiles and keep an eye on him," the redhead finished for him.

He gave her a slight smile and turned towards the others with a determined look.

"We'll find her, and bring her home. Now let's go."

[Y/N] woke up in a cement wall like room on the cold floor. After the whole parking lot incident, Kate and her goons had knocked her out and tossed her into the trunk of the car. She was in and out in between so she wasn't able to tell how long they were on the road or where they were going.

The room wasn't very spacious. The door was made of metal, bolted shut with no way of opening it from the inside. Typical. There was a small dirty cot in the corner. A single light bulb hanging from the ceiling flickering and slightly swinging back and forth. The walls had markings all round it. [Y/N] crawled closer and her blood ran cold. Claw marks. It seemed like this wasn't a normal room. There wasn't a window or any way for outdoor light to get in. They must have used it for other wares, keeping them locked in on full moons, which could explain the claw markings.

What the hell was going on? Why would Kate take her? Out of everyone in the pack she chose her. Not that she would want one of the others to be in her position. But, it just didn't make any sense.

"I see why the big bad wolf is fond of her."

Big bad wolf? Derek? No. She's probably working for someone else and was referring to them. Yeah that's it. Not Derek. But, this is Kate. She doesn't take orders from others, she makes them.

"-it's my turn to make you feel my pain, but much worse."

Much worse? How could she make it worse than death?

[Y/N] was still on the floor when the metal door opened. The same guy that had beaten Stiles walked in. There was no emotion on his face, it was just stone cold. Her eyes went wide and she slowly crawled backwards until her back hit the rough wall.

"Oh stop it Daryl, you're scaring her," a female voice made itself known. Daryl stepped aside. God, how she wished he hadn't.

Kate stepped forward with a menacing grin plastered on her face. There was seriously something wrong with her. Peter really should have made sure she was dead.

"What do you want with me?" [Y/N]'s voice shook a bit.

Kate began to stroll around the room, "Do you know what your part in all this is? The pack I mean," she asked. The woman glanced at the girl on the floor and saw fear written on her face. When she didn't respond, she continued.

"No? Well lucky for you, I've done my research. What I've observed is that you're an ok fighter. Not bad with research. But the main thing," she kneeled down close to the girl. [Y/N] tried to scoot further away but the wall wouldn't allow her to. "You're the alpha's weakness."

A confused look appeared on [Y/N]'s face. Her? Derek's weakness? That can't be true? Can it?

"Oh. You had no clue? Huh," she stood back up.

"They'll come after you, you know."

"Oh I count on it. But they won't find you anytime soon. Not till I say they do." With that, she and Daryl exited the room.

[Y/N] was left with her thoughts as so many unanswered questions loomed in her mind.

Three months. That's how long it's been since [Y/N] had been taken and held captive by Kate Argent.

The whole time had been miserable and just plain torture. Literally. The first few days [Y/N] fought. She’d fought and rebelled against them. They asked her questions about the pack, Hale secrets, the vault, everything they thought she'd know. In truth [Y/N] did know, but she would never talk. But it had all gotten too much for her. She no longer had any fight left in her to fight back against them anymore. When she wouldn't answer their questions or gave a snarky comment, she would get punished. They'd chain her up which would leave her wrists red and sore. There would be days where they wouldn't feed or give her water and make her starve as punishment or for their own amusement. They'd tie her up in a chair and make gashes on her skin, with either knives or their claws. The cruelest thing they've done was, in the secluded area where the house they held her at, they would set her free giving her the chance to escape and while they hunt her down. And it was always at night. They'd even take her out on full moons so the wares had something to do and let out their energy.

[Y/N] would be running in the dark, barely able to see anything. Tree branches would scratch her, logs and rocks would be tripping her and worst of all she'd be barefoot. Her shoes had worn out after the first few times. The weather hadn't been kind to her at all though it all. She'd run in the rain, nights were cold and the wind would be blowing, causing her scent to the wolves be more easily tracked.

She'd climb tree branches if she was able to and hide behind bushes, but she couldn't hide from them long before either red, yellow or blue glowing eyes came into view. That was another thing. Kate was never present while the others had their “fun” with [Y/N], always had her men do it for her. What [Y/N]’s noticed is that, no matter what damage they cause her, what pain they’d make her feel or just by simply being in her presence, they’d always be shifted. Claws and glowing eyes visible, staring right at her.

The light bulb had gone out a while back, must have been an old one if it burnt out so soon, so the only light that could be seen was from underneath the door from the lit up hallways outside. [Y/N] was shivering on the cot and the thin blanket provided for her wasn’t helping at all, especially not after being chased again in the rain the previous night. Or was it earlier this morning? There was no clock to tell time nor windows in the room to tell if it was day or night. [Y/N] was just wasting away, at least they had given her some food before the chase. But didn’t last long in her system as she threw it up between runs. Though today was different.

She hardly sleeps nowadays so when the loud noise of the padlocks from the door were heard, she didn’t flinch anymore like before. Kate had told her goons that once they were done with chases to give [Y/N] a rag and a bucket of water to at least clean herself. So when those very items were presented before her, she wasn’t surprised and gladly took them. Though she had noticed the person handing them to her was not as built and rough looking as the others. [Y/N] hesitantly looked up and straightened up a little. Kate hardly ever came by to see her. She must have come by three times, not counting the time when [Y/N] first got situated in the room that first night. This wasn’t going to be good.

“Wow, they really roughed you up good out there didn’t they.”

There were a few twigs and leaves in her hair, too tired to care she left them in not bothering to pick some out. Her right cheek was scraped from slipping down the tree trunk while climbing up, and her feet were never in good condition since the loss of her shoes. Believe it or not, this was nothing compared to previous one’s. She had a sprained ankle and a broken arm once, all in the same night.

“Well, go on clean up. Wouldn’t want your boyfriend and friends to see you all messed up now would we.”

[Y/N] was about to dampen the rag when she let what Kate said fully sink in. To see me? She looked up in Kate’s direction and let a look of confusion appear on her face.

“What do you mean,” her voice croaked. It came out raspy, hardly ever needing to use it since she never talked or made any noise. “To see me?”

Kate grinned and leaned against the wall with a foot propped up behind her. Her silhouette could only be seen as she was near the door where most of the light was let in from the hallway, but her feline, green eyes were the only thing that could be seen.

“Today’s your lucky day, Dorothy. You’re going home.”

[Y/N] froze mid wash. Home? Really?

“You’re Lying.”

Kate smacked her lips, “I could be or not. Up to you if you want to find out.”

[Y/N] continued to wash herself with her captor in the room while contemplating over the idea. [Y/N] didn’t know what to do. Of course she wanted to see everyone again, she missed them so much. But this was too easy. Kate couldn’t easily just hand her back over to them, she must have something in store for her and her friends. At this point [Y/N] didn’t have much to lose though, she in a way is already dead while not being so. Whatever Kate’s play is on this, [Y/N] was going to risk it. She had to try.

So [Y/N] set aside the rag and bucket and looked at Kate, “Fine. I’ll do it.”

Kate uncrossed her arms, pushed herself off the wall and made her way to stand in front of [Y/N]. She had this look on her face mixed with amusement and curiosity. The girl had guts Kate will admit.

“You sure? This could be all some trick of mine to kill you without even knowing,” she leaned closer to her face. “You willing to risk your life?”

[Y/N] glanced up and looked her straight in the eye, “Yes.”

Kate grinned. She began to walk away but turned around and made [Y/N]’s vision go dark.

Three months. It’s been three months since the night their packmate was taken and the pack wasn't able to find much information on Kate or [Y/N]. They for sure knew that she wasn't in Beacon Hills anymore.

The night [Y/N] was taken, Erica and Boyd were able to track down her and Kate’s scents on the edge of town. But after 3 miles, the scent was gone. They assumed they were taking her East, where the land got more deserted.

The pack was on edge. Lydia and Stiles worked with Argent most of the time, trying to figure out Kate's location. They would get in contact with some of her old hunting buddies and try to get any information they could get their hands on. Some would talk, others wouldn't, in fear of what Kate would do to them if she found out they blabbed on her.

Malia, Scott, Erica and Boyd would make calls to other packs they have come across in their times traveling and inform them on their situation. Hoping they may have seen Kate or [Y/N] wandering around their areas, or seen anything suspicious relating to the werejaguar. All they would get were that there were no sightings of such but would keep an eye open. Some had seen Kate but kept their distance not wanting to engage, but had commented that it was months ago before kidnapping [Y/N].

Derek was the one pushing himself too hard. Having the feeling that this was his fault, was searching none stop. He would look up surveillance cameras everyday, hoping to get a glimpse of the werejaguar or one of her men. He would drive to neighboring towns and do a few rounds sniffing out empty buildings in hopes that Kate might have planted something or slipped up in some way that would lead them to finding her. But had no luck. Peter began to worry about him going alone and decided to join him on these searches.

It was 10:45 at night and the two Hale men had just pulled up to the loft, finishing up a search that had taken them all day and night to drive from. Derek shut off the car and leaned against the steering wheel, letting out a sigh. He was beginning to lose hope in ever finding them. Kate was smart. She would never leave any tracks behind. This was her game, with her rules. She was probably watching them right now laughing at their pain and they would never even notice.

Peter hated seeing his nephew so broken. They may not get along much but pack was pack. As much as he hated to say it, their friend had grown on to him. She was the youngest after all, following Stiles by a few months, so he felt more protective over her.

Peter glanced at his nephew, and looked back out the front window, “We’re going to find her nephew. She’s pack, surely we would have felt her loss through the bond at some point these past few months,” there was a pause “especially you.”

Derek sat up and turned to his uncle, “Why? Because I’m the Alpha and it’s my re-”

“Because you’re in love with her,” Peter gave him a stern look cutting him off.

Derek’s eyes widened but returned back to their normal gaze. In love with Donnie? He couldn’t be, right? Sure he liked her, but Love? Love was a sensitive subject for the young Alpha, never did give it much of a chance. Not after Kate. He had thought she was his forever but when he found out she was just using him, the simple thought of finding his forever partner was just not in the books anymore. Thinking back on it, Derek never did feel anything of the sort that would indicate Kate was the one, let alone love her. The need to protect them, the constant worry when they weren’t in sight or near them, the slight tug in their chest being drawn to them. None of that was felt with Kate. However, when [Y/N] came into the picture, that’s exactly what Derek would feel when the thought of her would cross his mind. She was everything he didn’t know he needed. [Y/N] was playful but knew when to get serious, was cuddly and very loving but stepped back when need be, and was just a light in Derek’s dark world. So, maybe he was in love, just didn’t want to believe it. Didn’t want to risk his heart and end up being broken again.

“I know that you were aware of that detail and were hesitant about getting close to her for this very reason. But you have to understand. Even if you had initiated something, something was bound to happen. Whether to her or the pack, danger is all around us dear nephew,” Peter began to remove his seat belt and turned to him. “I know we haven’t had it easy, especially you. But don’t let the unknown stop you from trying to find peace, to be able to find love and happiness again. It would only make you more miserable.”

The young Hale stared ahead as his uncle got out of the vehicle before he followed after him to the building’s entrance. Halfway up the stairs to their floor, a familiar scent made them stop and look at each other. The two sped up the stairs and paused in front of the door. With a slight nod from Peter and claws drawing out, Derek pulled open the door.

“You really should get a new security system,” a mental box with wires stringing out of it was tossed at their feet. “This one’s broken.”

They followed the direction it was tossed from and their gaze was met with a certain blonde that they had been tracking down. There laying on their couch, as if she hadn’t just taken one of their packmates hostage, was Kate Argent in all her glory giving them a playful grimace.

In one quick sudden motion, Derek had lunged at her and pinned her to the wall by her neck. Peter was left there in shock, debating whether to let the man do damage to the woman or pull him away to figure out her play.

The woman chuckled, “Oh, now this brings back memories.”

“Where is she?” Derek demanded. His claws extended around her neck, canines barring at her, along with his crimson red eyes.

Kate batted her eyes at him, “Whatever do you mean Derek, I just came by to say hello.”

“Don’t play any games here Kate. Where the Hell is [Y/N]?”

“Derek, as much as I would prefer you to continue. But, you need to let her go,” Peter slowly made his way to his nephew, but stood back a few feet. “She has [Y/N], we need her alive to figure out where she is.”

Derek’s gaze never shifted from the current anger he held towards the woman. Nothing would satisfy him more than finally getting rid of Kate from his life. But, Peter had a point. [Y/N] was more important right now. So in defeat, Derek let her fall to the ground with a little more force than needed to be and walked away from her taking out his phone in the process. She wouldn’t be going anywhere, not without giving them answers, so the rest of the pack had to be here too.

Kate rose from the floor while rubbing the soreness away from her neck, “Always such a gentlemen.”

Half an hour later, the others had arrived and had kept their distance from the woman, but still a watchful eye on her as they discussed how they would go through with this.

“We could always beat it out of her.”

Everyone gave Stiles a look.

“What? She’s done it to all of us, what’s wrong with giving her a taste of her own medicine.”

“What’s wrong is that she wouldn’t break. It’d be useless on our part,” Lydia pointed out.

“I could always tell you where she is,” the pack looked at her. She was leaning against one of the wall windows, picking her fingernails, well claws.

They all returned their gazes back to each other, “Seems too easy if you ask me,” Erica spoke.

“She came to us,” Stiles glanced at Kate, giving her a death stare, over everyone’s shoulders while Peter began. “There must be something in return she wants. Something we all aren’t going to be willing to accept so easily.”

There was a cackle, “Old man’s right. But, you all better decide quickly.” Kate strutted her way near them and placed her hands on her hips. “Clock’s ticking. Not sure how long she’s got left, before little ole [Y/N] goes night night,” she bared her canines at them. “For good.”

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dustedmagazine · 3 years

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Dusted Mid-Year Round-Up: Part 2, Dr. Pete Larson to Young Slo-Be

James Brandon Lewis

The mid-year exchange continues with the second half of the alphabet and another round of Dusted writers reviewing other people’s favorite records. Today’s selection runs the gamut from Afro-beat to hip hop to experimental music and includes some of this year’s best jazz records. Check out part one if you missed it yesterday.

Dr. Pete Larson and His Cytotoxic Nyatiti Band — Damballah (Dagoretti Records)

Damballah by Dr. Pete Larson and his Cytotoxic Nyatiti Band

Who Picked it? Mason Jones

Did we review it? No, but Jennifer Kelly said about his previous record, “It’s authentic not to some musicological conception of what nyatiti music should sound like, but to the instincts and proclivities of the musicians involved.”

Bryon Hayes’ take:

Judging from Jenny’s review, Dr. Pete Larson hasn’t really changed his modus operandi much since last year’s self-titled release. Well, he has appeared to have dropped vocalist Kat Steih and drummer Tom Hohman, who aren’t credited with an appearance on Damballah. Sonically, this album feels more polished than its predecessor. There’s a richness that was lacking before, a sense of clarity that Larson seems to have added here. He still hypnotizes with his nyatiti but doesn’t lose himself behind the other players. That sense of mesmerizing repetition of short passages on the resonant lute-like instrument is what sets the music of the Cytotoxic Nyatiti Band apart from other rock groups who play in the psychedelic vein. It’s easy to get lost in the intricate plucking patterns as the guitars and synths swirl about. The rhythms bounce cleverly against those created by the percussion, anchoring the songs to solid ground. Balancing the airy and the earthy, Dr. Peter Larson and His Cytotoxic Nyatiti Band create a cosmic commotion perfect for contemplation.

James Brandon Lewis / Red Lily Quintet — Jesup Wagon (TAO Forms)

Jesup Wagon by James Brandon Lewis / Red Lily Quintet

Who recommended it? Derek Taylor

Did we review it? Yes, Derek said, “’Fallen Flowers’ and ‘Seer’ contain sections of almost telepathic convergence, the former and the closing ‘Chemurgy’ culminating in Lewis’ spoken words inculcating the import of his subject.”

Tim Clarke’s take:

Tenor saxophonist and composer James Brandon Lewis demonstrates his control of the instrument in the opening moments of Jesup Wagon’s title track. Before his Red Lily Quintet bandmates join the fray, he alternates between hushed ululations and full-blooded honks, inviting the listener to lean in conspiratorially. Once the rest of the band fire up, cornet player Kirk Knuffke, bassist William Parker, cellist Chris Hoffman and drummer Chad Taylor lock into a loose, muscular shuffle. Their collective chemistry is immediately evident, and each player has the opportunity to shine across this diverse set’s 50-minute runtime. I’m particularly drawn to the rapid-fire rhythmic runs on “Lowlands of Sorrow,” the gorgeous cello on “Arachis,” and the spacious, mbira-laced “Seer.” There’s something about the mournful horn melody of the final piece, “Chemurgy,” that sends me back to first hearing Ornette Coleman’s “Lonely Woman” — and, just like that, I’m excited about the prospect of exploring jazz again, for the first time in a long time. Great pick, Derek.

Roscoe Mitchell & Mike Reed — The Ritual And The Dance (Astral Spirits)

the Ritual and the Dance by Roscoe Mitchell & Mike Reed

Who recommended it? Derek Taylor

Did we review it? Yes, Derek wrote, “Roscoe Mitchell remains an improvisational force to be reckoned with.”

Andrew Forell’s take:

For 17-plus minutes, Roscoe Mitchell solos on his soprano with barely a pause, the rush of notes powered by circular breathing, as drummer Mike Reed’s controlled clatter counterpoints Mitchell’s exploration of his instrument’s range and tonal qualities in what sounds like a summation of his long career at the outer edge of jazz. It‘s an extraordinary beginning to this performance, recorded live in 2015. On first listen it sounds chaotic, but shapes emerge in Mitchell’s sound, and Reed’s combination of density and silence complements, punctuates and supports in equal measure. After an incisive solo workout from Reed combining clanging metal and rolling toms, Mitchell swaps to tenor and the pace changes. Longer, slower notes, a rougher, reed heavy tone and a lighter touch from Reed. Having not closely followed Mitchell’s work since his days in The Art Ensemble Of Chicago, this performance was a revelation and will have me searching back through his catalog.

The Notwist — Vertigo Days (Morr Music)

Vertigo Days by The Notwist

Who recommended it? Tim Clarke

Did we review it? Yes, Tim said, “The Notwist really know how to structure a front-to-back listening experience, and this is emphatically a work of art best appreciated as a whole.”

Arthur Krumins’ take:

In his review of Vertigo Days, Tim Clarke highlights the “multiple layers of drifting, shifting instrumentation.” It is an album that seems unbound by adherence to a set instrument lineup, and it moves quickly between moods both frenetic and contemplative. However, due to a careful mixing and an unforced approach to genre expectations, it is a surprising and varied listen that bears repeated scrutiny. The touchstones of the sound are at times the motorik beat of krautrock, at others the ethereal indie pop of their melodies and the quality of their singing. It feels like the perfect quirky coffee shop album, just out there enough to create a vibe, but tactful enough to take you along for the ride.

Dorothea Paas — Anything Can’t Happen (Telephone Explosion)

Anything Can't Happen by Dorothea Paas

Who picked it? Arthur Krumins.

Did we review it? No.

Eric McDowell’s take:

In one sense, it’s fair to say that Dorothea Paas’s debut album opens with a false start: A single note sounded and then retreated from, fingers sliding up and down the fretboard with the diffidence of a throat clearing. Yet what gesture could more perfectly introduce an album so marked by uncertainty, vulnerability, and naked self-assessment?

If Anything Can’t Happen is an open wound, it’s a wound Paas willingly opens: “I’m not lonely now / Doing all the things I want to and working on my mind / Sorting through old thoughts.” That doesn’t make the pain any less real — though it does make it more complex. “It’s so hard to trust again / When you can’t even trust yourself,” Paas sings on the utterly compelling title track, her gaze aiming both inward and outward. Elsewhere she admits: “I long for a body closer to mine / But I don’t want to seek, I just want to find.” Instrumentally, Paas and her bandmates manage to temper an inclination toward static brooding with propulsive forward motion, a balance that suits the difficult truth — or better yet, difficult truce — the album arrives at in the climactic “Frozen Window”: “How can I open to love again, like a plant searches for light through a frozen window? / Can I be loved, or is it all about control? / I will never know until I start again.” In the spirit of starting again, Anything Can’t Happen ends with a doubling down on the opening prelude, reprising and extending it — no false start to be found.

Dominic Pifarely Quartet — Nocturnes (Clean Feed)

Nocturnes by Dominique Pifarély Quartet

Who recommended it? Jason Bivins

Did we review it? No

Derek Taylor’s take:

Pifarely and I actually go way back in my listening life, specifically to Acoustic Quartet, an album the French violinist made for ECM as a co-leader with countryman clarinetist Louis Sclavis in 1994. Thirty-something at the time, his vehicle for that venture was an improvising chamber ensemble merging classical instrumentation and extended techniques with jazz and folk derived influences. The results, playful and often exhilaratingly acrobatic, benefited greatly from austere ECM house acoustics. Nearly three decades distant, Nocturnes is a different creature, delicate and darker hued in plumage and less enamored of melody, harmony and rhythm, at least along conventional measures. Drones and other textures are regular elements of the interplay between the leader’s strings, the piano of Antonin Rayon and the sparse braiding and shadings of bassist Bruno Chevillon and drummer Francois Merville. Duos also determine direction, particular on the series of titular miniatures that are as much about space as they are centered in sound. It’s delightful to get reacquainted after so much time apart.

The Reds Pinks & Purples — Uncommon Weather (Slumberland/Tough Love)

Uncommon Weather by The Reds, Pinks & Purples

Who picked it? Jennifer Kelly

Did we review it? Yes, Jennifer said, “Uncommon Weather is undoubtedly the best of the Reds, Pinks & Purples discs so far, an album that is damned near perfect without seeming to try very hard.”

Bill Meyer’s take:

Sometimes a record hits you where you live. Glenn Donaldson’s too polite to do you any harm, but he not only knows where you live, he knows your twin homes away from home, the record store and the club where you measure your night by how many bands’ sets separate you from last call. He knows the gushing merch-table mooches and the old crushes that casually bring the regulars down, and he also knows how to make records just like the ones that these folks have been listening to since they started making dubious choices. Uncommon Weather sounds like a deeply skilled recreation of early, less chops-heavy Bats, and if that description makes sense to you, so will this record.

claire rousay — A Softer Focus (American Dreams Records)

a softer focus by Claire Rousay

Who picked it? Bryon Hayes

Did we review it? Yes, Bryon Hayes wrote, “These field recordings of the mundane, when coupled with the radiance of the musical elements, are magical.”

Ian Mathers’ take:

In a weird way (because they are very different works from very different artists), A Softer Focus reminds me a bit of Robert Ashley’s Private Parts (The Album). Both feel like the products of deep focus and concentration but wear their rigor loosely, and both feel like beautifully futile attempts to capture or convey the rich messiness of human experience. But although there is a musicality to Private Parts, Ashley is almost obsessed by language and language acts, and even though the human voice is more present than ever in rousay’s work (not just sampled or field recorded, but outright albeit technologically smeared singing on a few tracks) it feels like it reaches to a place in that experience beyond words. The first few times I played it I had moments where I was no longer sure exactly what part of what I was hearing were coming from my speakers versus from outside my apartment, and as beautiful as the more conventional ambient/drone aspects of A Softer Focus are (including the cello and violin heard throughout), it’s that kind of intoxicating disorientation, of almost feeling like I’m experiencing someone else’s memory, that’s going to stay with me the longest.

M. Sage — The Wind Of Things (Geographic North)

The Wind of Things by M. Sage

Who recommended it? Bryon Hayes

Did we review it? No

Bill Meyer’s take:

Matthew Sage’s hybrid music gets labeled as ambient by default. Sure, it’s gentle enough to be ignorable, but Sage’s combination of ruminative acoustic playing (mostly piano and guitar, with occasional seasoning from reeds, violin, banjo, and percussion) and memory-laden field recordings feels so personal that it’s hard to believe he’d really be satisfied with anyone treating this stuff as background music. But that combination of the placid and the personal may also be The Wind of Things’ undoing since it’s a bit too airy and undemonstrative to make an impression.

Skee Mask — Pool (Ilian Tape)

ITLP09 Skee Mask - Pool by Skee Mask

Who picked it? Patrick Masterson

Did we review it? No

Robert Ham’s take:

Pool is an appropriate title for the new album by Munich electronic artist Bryan Müller. The record is huge and deep, with its 18 tracks clocking in at around 103 minutes. And Müller has pointedly only released the digital version of Pool through Bandcamp, adding it a little hurdle to fans who just want to pick and choose from its wares for their playlists. Dipping one’s toes in is an option, but the only way to truly appreciate the full effect is to dive on in.

Though Müller filled Pool up with around five years’ worth of material, the album plays like the result of great deliberation. It flows with the thoughtfulness and intention of an adventurous DJ set, with furious breakbeat explosions like “Breathing Method” making way for the languorous ambient track “Ozone” and the unbound “Rio Dub.” Then, without warning, the drum ‘n’ bass breaks kick in for a while.

The full album delights in those quick shifts into new genres or wild seemingly disparate sonic connections happening within the span of a single song. But again, these decisions don’t sound like they were made carelessly. Müller took some time with this one to get the track list just right. But if there is one thread that runs along the entirety of Pool, it is the air of joy that cuts through even its downcast moments. The splashing playfulness is refreshing and inviting.

Speaker Music — Soul-Making Theodicy (Planet Mu)

Soul-Making Theodicy by Speaker Music

Who picked it? Mason Jones

Did we review it? No

Robert Ham’s take:

The process by which DeForrest Brown Jr., the artist known as Speaker Music, created his latest EP sounds almost as exciting as the finished music. If I understand it correctly — and I’m not entirely sure that I do — he created rhythm tracks using haptic synths, a Push sequencer, and a MIDI keyboard, that he sent through Ableton and performed essentially a live set of abstract beats informed by free jazz, trap and marching band. Or as Brown calls them “stereophonic paintings.”

Whatever term you care to apply to these tracks and however they were made, the experience of listening to them is a dizzying one. A cosmic high that takes over the synapses and vibrates them until your vision becomes blurry and your word starts to smear together like fog on a windshield. Listening to this EP on headphones makes the experience more vertiginous if, like I did, you try to unearth the details and sounds buried within the centerpiece track “Rhythmatic Music For Speakers,” a 33-minute symphony of footwork stuttering and polyrhythms. Is that the sound of an audience responding to this sensory overload that I hear underneath it all? Or is that wishful imaginings coming from a mind hungry for the live music experience?

The Telescopes — Songs of Love And Revolution (Tapete)

Songs Of Love And Revolution by the telescopes

Who recommended it? Robert Ham

Did we review it? No.

Andrew Forell’s take:

Songs Of Love And Revolution glides along on murky subterranean rhythms that evoke Mo Tucker’s heartbeat toms backed with thick bowel-shaking bass lines. Somewhere in the murk Stephen Lawrie’s murmured vocals barely surface as he wrings squalls of noise from his guitar to create a dissonant turmoil to contrast the familiarity of what lies beneath. The effect is at once hypnotic and joltingly thrilling, similar to hearing Jesus And Mary Chain for the first time but played a at pace closer to Bedhead. A kind of slowcore shoegaze, its mystery enhanced by what seems deliberately monochrome production that forces and rewards close attention. When they really let go on “We See Magic And We Are Neutral, Unnecessary” it hits like The Birthday Party wrestling The Stooges. So yeah, pretty damn good.

Leon Vynehall — Rare, Forever (Ninja Tune)

Rare, Forever by LEON VYNEHALL

Who recommended it? Patrick Masterson

Did we review it? No.

Jason Bivins’ take:

I was amused to see Leon Vynehall’s album tucked into the expansive “Unknown genre” non-category. This is, as is often the case with these mid-year exchanges, a bit far afield from the kind of music I usually spin. Much of it is, I suppose, rooted in house music. Throughout these tracks, there are indeed some slinky beats that’ll get you nodding your head while prepping the dinner or while studying in earnest. There’s plenty to appreciate on the level of grooves and patterns, but he closer you listen, the more subversive, sneaky details you notice. The opening “Ecce! Ego!” isn’t quite as brash as the title would suggest, featuring some playfully morphed voices, old school synth patches and snatches of instrumentalism. But after just a couple minutes, vast cosmic sounds start careening around your brainpan while a metal bar drops somewhere in the audial space. Did that just happen? you wonder as the groove continues. Moments of curiosity and even discomfort are plopped down, sometimes as transitions (like the closing vocal announcement on “In>Pin” — “like a moth” — that introduces the echo-canyon of “Mothra”) but usually as head-scrambling curveballs. Startled voices or flutes or subterranean sax bubble up from beneath deep house thrum, then are gone in ways that are arresting and deceptive. I still don’t know what to make of the lounge-y closing to “Snakeskin – Has-Been” or the unexpected drone monolith of “Farewell! Magnus Gabbro.” In its way, Vynehall’s music is almost like what you’d get if Graham Lambkin or Jason Lescalleet made a house record. Pretty rich stuff.

Michael Winter — single track (Another Timbre)

single track by Michael Winter

Who recommended it? Eric McDowell

Did we review it? Not yet!

Mason Jones’ take:

Over its 45 minutes, Michael Winter’s 2015 composition slowly accelerates and accumulates, starting from an isolated violin playing slightly arrhythmic, single fast strokes. The playing, centered around a single root note, seems almost random, but flashes of melodic clusters make it clear they're not. After nine minutes other players have joined in and there's a developing drone, as things sort of devolve, with atonal combinations building. By the one-third mark everything has slowed down significantly, and the players are blending together, with fewer melodies standing out. Instead, it's almost more drone than not; and at a half hour in, most of the strings have been reduced to slowly changing tones. As we near the end we’re hearing beautiful layers of string drones, descending into the final few minutes of nearly static notes. It's an intriguing and oddly listenable composition given its atonality. The early moments bring to mind Michael Nyman, and the later movements summon thoughts of Tony Conrad and La Monte Young, but it's clearly different from any of them, and more than the sum of those parts.

Young Slo-Be — Red Mamba (KoldGreedy Entertainment / Thizzler On The Roof)

youtube

Who picked it? Ray Garraty

Did we review it? No.

Ian Mathers’ take:

The 12 tracks on Red Mamba fly by in a little over 27 minutes (not a one breaks the three-minute mark) but the result doesn’t feel slight so much as pared down to a sharpness you might cut yourself on. Stockon’s Young Slo-Be only seems to have one flow (or maybe it’d be more accurate to say he only seems interested in one) but he knows how to wield it with precision and force, and if the subject matter hews closely to the accepted canon of gangbanger concerns, Slo-Be delivers it all with vivid language and the studied, superior disdain of an older brother explaining the world to you and busting your chops at the same time. The tracks on Red Mamba all come from different producers, but Slo-Be consistently chooses spectral, eerie, foreboding backgrounds for these songs, even when adding piano and church bells (on “Asshole”), dog barks (“21 Thoughts”) or even Godfather-esque strings (the closing “Rico Swavo”). What’s the old line about the strength of street knowledge? These are different streets, and different knowledge.

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batsandbabydolls · 4 years

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Alright, guys! I’m gonna tell you all about how The Web was actually responsible for this whole ritual!

Sit down because this is a long one! Big shout out to @throatofdelusion who crafted this theory with me. You should check his blog out because he has some really cool thoughts and theories (especially about the Distortion).

So, I know this sounds super far fetched, but just hear me out. I have evidence for the Web’s involvement in 8 out of Jon’s 14 marks: the Web, the Eye, the Corruption, the Stranger, the End, the Flesh, and the Buried.

Was the Web involved in the other 6 as well? Possibly, but possibly not. My current theory is the Web only intervened when something was going wrong, and just let Jonah do his thing when he had the right idea. There’s evidence of the Web’s involvement in most places that Jonah credits to “luck”. And isn’t it very on-brand for the Web? To get someone else to perform her ritual for her?

WEB/EYE

JONAH I’ll admit, my options were somewhat limited, but My God, when you came to me already marked by the Web, I knew it had to be you. I even held out some small hope you had been sent by the Spider as some sort of implicit blessing on the whole project, and, do you know what, I think it was.

So this one’s obvious and probably doesn’t require explanation. Even based on Jonah’s understanding, the Web did this one on purpose. I could speculate about motives, but I don’t think that’s necessary. I think there are two important things to take away from this:

The Web, not the Eye was Jon’s first mark.

If Jon was sent to the Institute by the Web, that would make the Web responsible for him being marked by the Eye, too.

CORRUPTION

JONAH I reasoned if you couldn’t survive a single encounter, you were unlikely to make it through all fourteen. So, when Jane Prentiss attacked, I watched eagerly, one hand on the gas release from the start.

You acquitted yourself well enough, so I decided to see how far you would get, though I waited until the worms were in you before I pulled the lever. I needed to make sure you felt that fear all the way to your bones.

Who orchestrated The Corruption’s attack? Not Jonah! By his own admission, he just watched it happen (you’ll see this become a running theme), but...

[SOUND OF CHAIR SCRAPING]

ARCHIVIST I see you…

[THUMP… THEN SOUND OF COLLAPSING SHELVES][NOISES OF EXCLAMATION][DOOR OPENS]

SASHA Alright?

ARCHIVIST Ah… Yeah. A… spider.

SASHA A spider?

ARCHIVIST Yeah. I tried to kill it…. the shelf collapsed.

SASHA Look.

ARCHIVIST Oh… uh… Got dented when the shelf collapsed, I guess.

SASHA No, it, it goes right through. I, I thought this was an exterior wall?

ARCHIVIST It should be.

SASHA Hmm. I, I think it’s just plasterboard. [LOW NOISES OF DEBRIS] Do you see anything? [QUIET, BUILDING SOUND OF WET WRIGGLING]

ARCHIVIST No, I don’t think so, it… [WORM SOUND INTENSIFIES] Sasha, run. RU - [CLICK]

(MAG 38)

A spider is what let the worms into the Archives.

Not to mention the reason Martin encountered Jane Prentiss to begin with. He was investigating a Web-related case. And:

MARTIN And then I remembered that I’d seen quite a lot of spider webs in the brief time I was down there, and maybe I should check it out again. I mean, like I said, I’m not really afraid of spiders. So… I went back for another look.

(MAG 22)

STRANGER

JONAH The discovery that one of the Stranger’s minions had infiltrated the Institute in the aftermath was certainly a pleasant bonus.

Oh, really? Jonah didn’t do this one, either? I wonder who did. The not-them was bound to the table that was delivered to the Institute by Breekon&Hope (along with a spiderweb lighter). The table, you may recall, is also web aligned. Its original location was Hill Top Road, and when Jon smashes it open:

[SOUND OF SHATTERING WOOD AND THE STRANGE MUSIC DISAPPEARS]

ARCHIVIST Hollow. Just cobwebs and dust.

(MAG 78)

Sasha was replaced by the not-them after being entranced by the table in artifact storage. Jon encounters Not-Sasha in the tunnels, perhaps by chance, or perhaps...

ARCHIVIST I’m in the tunnels. I was exploring and I got lost. I haven’t gone down any of the stairs and I - I think I’m still under the Institute. There were a couple of spiders, so I changed routes and found, I think it’s a gas main.

NOT!SASHA Jon?

[ARCHIVIST CRIES OUT, STARTLED]

Jon is that you?

(MAG 68)

I actually believe that the Web’s influence is the reason he broke the table. From the beginning, multiple people were advising him to break it. But he thought that was a bad idea. He changes his mind rather suddenly. He believes it’s his decision while he’s doing it, but it seems like such a bad idea to him after. I don’t have solid evidence to support that, though. Just speculation.

END

JONAH And [The Unknowing] did serve another purpose, of course. It inadvertently pushed you to confront death, a mark I had been very worried about trying to orchestrate. If I tried too early, you’d just die. Too late, and you might be powerful enough to see the attempt coming, and maybe even understand why.

As it was, it was just right, and once again, you came through with flying colors.

I don’t know if the Web was responsible for his brush with the End, but she definitely had a hand in him surviving it.

OLIVER Honestly, I’m still not exactly sure why I’m here. But you know better than anyone how the spiders can get into your head. Easier to just do what she asks.

The thing is, John, right now you have a choice. You’ve put it off a long time, but it’s trapping you here. You’re not quite human enough to die, but still too human to survive. You’re balanced on an edge where the End can’t touch you, but you can’t escape him.

(MAG 121)

FLESH

JONAH I was a little put out when that idiot Jared Hopworth misinterpreted my letters and attacked the Institute too soon, before you were even out of the hospital, but then – Ho, you should have seen my face when you voluntarily went to him.

And why did he do that? Because of what he heard on a tape.

ARCHIVIST I found this tape tucked in a corner of my desk drawer (sigh) covered in cobwebs. I suppose subtlety has gone out the window a bit, and the question is now simply… how much I trust the Spider to have my best interests at heart.

About - About an anchor. What was it she said, “the siren call of flesh.” Hm. It’s possible, I suppose. It would - hurt, but - well, what’s another scar?

(MAG 130)

BURIED

I mean... see above. But also:

DAISY Jon… When you went in the coffin, was it you choosing to do that? Did you actually think you could save me, or was that something telling you to do it?

ARCHIVIST It was me. I was - drawn to it, I’ll admit, but it was my decision.

(MAG 136)

LONELY

JONAH Poor Peter. He really should have left well enough alone. (cruel laugh) Or just done what I’d asked in the first place.

Ah well. He knew what I was attempting, and was very unwilling to cooperate until I made him a little wager about Martin.

Jonah very much acts like he knew what he was doing in this one. But the whole thing would have fallen apart if Jon never found out what was happening.

MARTIN Will I be coming back?

PETER You’re not going to die, if that’s what you’re asking, but- no. If all goes well, you won’t be.

ARCHIVIST This tape was left on my desk. I don’t know by who, but to my mind, there are three options. Martin has left it here to let me know that whatever the situation is with Peter Lukas, it is entering his final act and he needs my help. Alternatively, Peter may have left here to… Goad me into action? Or just to gloat, to highlight my helplessness at everything. (sighs) Or Annabelle Cane is trying to manipulate me into thinking it’s one of the other scenarios. Previously, the spiders have made their presence clear when they’ve sent me… hints… but I can’t take that for granted.

(MAG 157)

The fact that Jon even considers Annabelle in this situation is pretty telling. And given what we know about the situation, it makes no sense for Martin or Peter to have left the tape. Martin was trying to protect Jon; he wouldn’t risk his safety by trying to get him involved, especially because he thought he had the situation under control. And Jon’s appearance would do nothing to help Peter and, in fact, would have been likely to hinder his plans. Jonah may have been a likely suspect if he weren’t still in prison at the time. So that leaves only one option.

So what does this mean?

Well, my prediction is that the ritual isn’t going to grant Jonah the power he’s expecting. I believe the ritual isn’t centered on the Eye, but on the Web. Jon is an Avatar for the Beholding (probably? but that’s a whole other story), but he’s very deeply marked by the Web, a lot deeper than he realizes.

I think we’re going to see a lot more from Annabelle in season 5.

#tma #the magnus archives #magnuspod #jonah magnus #annabelle cane #tma meta #tma theories #the web

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shealynn88 · 3 years

Text

Fic Writer Questions

Tagged by @fandom-hoarder . Thanks so much!

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

121

2) What’s your total AO3 word count?

257,052 (over 20 years)

3) How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Yuletide is responsible for most of the one-offs, my main fandoms are Supernatural and Veronica Mars. Otherwise, I’ve written for Angel, Blade, Bones, Buffy, Constantine, Daddy Long Legs, Dancing With the Stars, Dead Like Me, Dexter, Elektra, Firefly, Friday Night Lights, Good Omens, Grimm, Haven, Heroes, Sherlock, Teen Wolf, The Chronicles of Riddick, The Fault in Our Stars, The Guardian, Travelers, Tru Calling, Venom, iZombie

4) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Bottle of Red (Venom (Movie 2018)) (2060 words) - Anything Venom is way more popular than any of my other stuff. You Venom fans are THIRSTY. And I love you for it. :D The Little Death (Teen Wolf (TV)) (3058 words) - TW fans, ALSO thirsty, and I love YOU for it. I’m still not 100% with the characterization here, but I think it’s def. closer. The Light Will Guide You Home (Supernatural) (4622 words) Destiel - I’m really proud of this one - AU, tentacle creature Cas with feels, and it’s what got me into the original works anthology I’m in--Add Magic to Taste, with Duck Prints Press! What the Mark Demands (Supernatural) (1305 words) Wincest - one of my favorites, honestly. Pure smut, but there are feels. Paved With Good Intentions (Supernatural) (2837 words) Wincest - Soulless Sam still gives me happy chills, okay?

More questions answered below!

5) Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I try to. Sometimes I’m overwhelmed and I don’t, but I always, always, always treasure them!!

6) What’s the fic you’ve writtenb with the angstiest ending?

When Living is Another Kind of Dying (Supernatural/Heroes crossover)(767 words) - I love this one. It’s super old, I wrote it on LiveJournal. But it’s solid, it imagines a world where Dean goes to avenge Sam and gives Peter That Scar.

7) What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

I mean, a huge number of my fics end happy. But I’ll say this because it’s also based on happy, sexy art and that’s awesome:

Adulting 101 (Supernatural) (2988 words) DCJ - A sweet AU where Dean meets Jimmy in Sioux Falls and then meets Cas and doesn’t know what to do...until he does.

8) Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I think they’re all sort of equally crazy, probably? Here, have most of them:

Playing Dice in the Dark (Supernatural/Good Omens)(2927 words) Destiel - Dean and Cas are Crowley and Aziraphale. Follow them through the ages. There is some dark, torturey stuff handled in a lighter, Pratchett-y way.

Phoenix Out of Blood (Supernatural/Heroes) (7583 words) Gen - early season Sam and Dean meet 5 Years Later version of Claire Bennett and they go on the run. A lot of feels, historical Dean/Jo, honestly an underappreciated fic. :)

Of Squints and Vampires (Angel/Bones) (2653 words) Gen - a very old one and not fantastic, but still fun. A demon gets shipped to the Jeffersonian. I did this for a doppleganger group a million years ago.

Drown Out the Clamor of Silence (Buffy/Tru Calling) (2681 words) Harrison/Faith - I loved this one, so dark and weird! Harrison meets a girl who looks like his sister but isn’t, and it ends up being both traumatic and healing, somehow. Another one for the doppleganger group.

9) Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Ah, yes. I wrote my first dark Wincest, full of non-con on both sides (demon!Dean), and people had massive issues with my tagging of who topped and who bottomed, which I found hilarious since it was rape, all the way down, but apparently who puts what into who was the main source of anger. I don’t tag for topping and bottoming anymore.

10) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

So. Much. So much smut. I don’t know what kind? the smutty kind? Usually with feels?

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

12) Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nah, I’m not that big.

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Once! It was a Veronica Mars fic, five million years ago.

14) What’s your all time favorite ship?

I can’t. I just can’t. There are too many. Spuffy, Weever, Destiel, Wincest...anything trust based and a little fucked up is right up my alley.

15) What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Grimm Series - I started this, and loved it, but I lost track of the series. It was going to be fairy tale based, Juliette/Renaud and Nick/Monroe endgame. I love the beginning of it. Maybe I’ll get back to it, it was so fun, and honestly, pretty darn good.

16) What are your writing strengths?

I write a good sentence. I think I have good flow and good characterization for the most part. I’m solid when it comes to smut.

17) What are your writing weaknesses?

Plot. All the way, I’m terrible at plot and not great at pacing. BUT, I’m actively trying to improve and I think I am!

18) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Depending on the situation, either type it in the other language and have the response show what it meant, or type it in italics and then ‘he said in Russian’ or whatever. Is it right? I dunno. I don’t do it very often.

19) What was the first fandom you wrote for?

I wrote fanfic for a high school assignment for Farenheit 451, which I’m fairly certain was brilliant, and then the first time I knew what fanfic was and did it on purpose, it was for the TV show, Witchblade. It was so long ago, I think I posted it on a forum and I don’t know where it is anymore.

20) What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Can one choose a child? Gah. There are so many, honestly. If you get this far and want a rec, I’ll rec you one based on your interests, just send me an ask.

#ask game #navel gazing #this was fun

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beholderoftheburied · 4 years

Text

Lets! Talk! About! The! Web!

I’ve been thinking a lot about how the web has interfered a whole lot in... very small but noticeable ways. lets talk about that, spoilers for like the entirety of tma

Jon has been marked by the web since the very beginning because of his run in with A Guest For Mr. Spider, way before he even knew about the institute or even the true existence of the supernatural. That left Jon with a fear of spiders (understandably) that lasts. Like for example in MAG118 when Jon sees a spiderweb, he makes, as the transcripts put it, “a sound of extreme disgust--it almost sounds like he’s straining with something” and when Daisy say,s it’s just a cobweb jon says “There is no such thing as just a cobweb--I don’t like it.” so, obviously Jon is scared enough of spiders for a simple cobweb to freak him out.

Now, apply this to the fact that Jon being marked by the web helped Elias in ending the world. I mean, obviously the Web didn’t know that Jon was going to become The Archivist nor did they have a hand in making him the Archivist. But. But it wouldn’t be a stretch to think that once he was the Archivist, they paid much closer attention to him.

Then Jon is given a web lighter, and the implications behind that aren’t lost on anyone. Everyone and their mother knows that the lighter most likely has an affiliation to the Web. The lighter itself hasn’t been mentioned much but it obviously has an impact. It’s been implied before that Jon quit smoking before becoming the Archivist. He had a problem at one point but stopped. But since getting that lighter, it’s been mentioned time and time again that Jon will have cigarettes on him. For example, when Daisy was searching Jon during season three and finds a pack of cigarettes in his bag. This goes so far as Jon going out for a smoke that most opportune time for elias to kill leitner, someone who would have been able to help jon and possibly even stop the apocalypse! And that gets Jon out of the archives and out into the real world which... gets him more marks.

Or maybe backtrack a bit to the season one finale. Jon kicks off the prentiss attack a bit earlier than it was meant to happen which is LIKELY the only reason he didn’t die. Which also caused sasha to be taken by the not!them and i mean the not!them might not have even marked Jon but it interfered PRETTY greatly. And the only reason the event got kicked off was because Jon... saw a spider on the wall... making him try to kill it because as i’ve established Jon’s pretty scared of spiders... and that, as you’ve gathered, got Jon another mark. And I mean even going back to the fact that Jon saw a cobweb in 118 right before the unknowing ritual which OBVIOUSLY marked Jon! It could have just been a coincidence that Jon saw a spiderweb but theres likely a reason it was mentioned?

Not to mention, Annabelle Caine has been the MOST elusive Avatar so far, she rarely directly interferes herself and yet. And yet She willingly lead Jon to hilltop road--something that as far as I’m concerned is just as elusive as Annabelle and an unsolved mystery--and Annabelle WILLINGLY left Jon a statement. Jon didn’t force her to, although he did think he’d have to pull it out of her (If I’m remembering correctly, it’s been a while since I’ve listened to that episode). Furthermore, despite her streak of being NOT direct in most of her approaches she goes so far as to call Martin in season five. During the apocalypse!! And the web is all about manipulation and paranoia, just that little seed of doubt and fear implanted into your brain. I think that’s been thoroughly accomplished. And honestly the web episode wasn’t even that big of a DEAL! The statement was a bit rough but there was... no direct contact. They went in, they went out and didn’t get hurt. Annabelle wasn’t mentioned once despite being the most notable avatar of the Web in TMA.

So given all that I really don’t think it’s that much of a stretch to say that the Web not only had a hand in starting the apocalypse, but they wanted it to happen. I know Jonah’s been alive for a long time which is why he figured out that you need a ritual with all the fears but the Web is sneaky. They’re secretive and manipulative. All of the fears WANT to control the world, they all want their rituals to succeed and to change their world. And I mean, in the fearpocalypse all the Fears do have their own domains, they each get to have their own fun, it’s just the Eye who’s currently in the most power. I think that the Web already knew that, and I think that they helped Elias starting the apocalypse.

but not only that! This brings me back to the web lighter.

The lighter has influenced the story already, but Jon still has it, and if you’re looking at tma theories ever you probably know about the Jon Burns The Archives down theory. Just a quick rundown of that, though, to make sure I cover all my bases: Burning the archives and, furthermore, the institute down, would stop Jonah (if he isn’t already dead, but thats a theory for another time). It’s been stressed a lot that Jonah is tied to the archives and so are the employees. And that brings me to this:

MARTIN

If I… If I do kill you, will the others survive?

PETER

Elias?

ELIAS (JONAH)

Come now, Peter, it’s a valid question. And you should have addressed it yourself, really.

The short answer is, I don’t know, Martin. I guarantee it won’t be pleasant for them, but I honestly don’t know if their ties to the Institute are quite as strong as I may have implied. You, at least should be insulated from the fallout by your new allegiance. John… might be powerful enough to weather it. Melanie’s well out of it, so that just leaves Basira and Daisy. And the rest of the Institute, of course, and you can’t tell me you care about them.

Okay, so a few things; most of the employees of the institute are probably off being tortured by their greatest fears so they’re out. Martin wouldn’t be affected by it (presumably) because of his strong alliance to the Lonely and I think now that Daisy has (probably?) spent her time in the Hunts domain that might take her out too. Basira could actually get genuinely hurt if he doesn’t get killed before then but honestly, who knows what’s gonna happen with basira. And that leaves Jon, who at the time elias says might be strong enough to weather it. BUT the circumstances are different now, Jon is the metaphysical symbol of the Archives so if they go down... Jon will go with them, likely.

The only source of ignition they have is the Web lighter. And if they take that route Martin will be left alone. That would be it. He would be the human left with the remains of the archives and a web lighter. And I have always stressed that Martin is so, so fucking human. He doesn’t belong in the apocalypse. The avatars all get their kicks out of this, he and Jon are each others reason and they both have a goal. They’re each others anchor and having Jon die would leave Martin anchor less.

The web is the fear of manipulation and Martin is painfully well versed in that. Whether it be his mother, Elias, Peter, or even Jon, Martin has been the brunt end of all this manipulation and hurt. And without an anchor, a real physical reason, without something to keep himself sane--being so fucking human surrounded by monsters. It makes Martin QUITE susceptible to the Web’s influence. And the Web could maybe... yknow... use Martin as a way to the top. Make THEM the leader of this apocalypse.

Just like they’d wanted from the beginning.

#web!martin theorists this is how we can Still Win #ive been sitting on this for AGES #its sad but its here and its supported #tma #the magnus archives #tma spoilers #tma season 5 #tma season five spoilers #tma theories #jon sims #tma jon #martin blackwood #tma martin #tma the web #web!martin #vaguely?

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lockdownfest · 4 years

Photo

Lock Down Fest Masterpost PART I (20-30 March)

1917

feed me just enough that i’ll never need a cage by Cunninglinguist. (E) 7.4k, Tom Blake/William Schofield. “Come on.” Sco stops walking, runs a hand over the faintest marking on a tree trunk. “It’s just a little farther now.” “I’m coming.” Tom huffs a sigh, yanking his shotgun strap over his shoulder so the barrel lands in his hands. They’ve been on the road for nearly a week now, an unfortunate consequence of their last shelter getting swarmed by an army of dead ones. Though skinning rabbits to eat over hastily made fires and taking turns sleeping against trees, spending the days and nights consumed with fear, and jumping each time a stick cracked were hardly desirable circumstances, it certainly wasn’t their longest or harshest stint on the run. They had endured worse, by far, and Tom had no doubt that this particular stretch of time would come to an end when Sco said it would. He knows the way, he always knows the way. Plus, Tom wouldn’t want to spend this time with anyone else in the entire world.

If The World Was Ending by RisingShadows. (not rated) 3.7k, Tom Blake/William Schofield. When a dangerous virus begins spreading across the country William Schofield and Tom Blake quickly find themselves the last two standing of the team working in their lab.

AKB48

#unmeida by summoninglupine. (G), 788 words. Sashihara Rino/Watanabe Mayu, Kashiwagi Yuki/Watanabe Mayu. Ready for an all-girl vacation in Okinawa, Watanabe Mayu doesn't see why she has to be the one to nursemaid their sick tour guide. Things would be different, she is sure, if Yuki was there!

ALL FOR THE GAME

I see truth somewhere in your eyes by DeyaAmaya. (M) 2.8k, Kevin Day/Thea Muldani, Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard, other background relationships. In a moment of insanity, Kevin decides to check Instagram. In the multitude of inane celebrity posts telling the mass people to stay home, he finds a lovely, recent photography of Thea. Someone from their College took it. The lighting perfectly captured the dried tear tracks down her unmoving face. Kevin disregards the emotional caption and instead checks the date. 18 March, the night he- (The night he thought he had a hallucination.)

Quarantine and exy by Fornavn. FANART. (G) 116 words, Andrew/Neil. The monsters is stuck at home while coved-19 is terrorizing the world. They are bored.

ANNE OF GREEN GABLES

Alone and in a Circumstance by middlemarch. (T) 700 words, Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley, Marilla Cuthbert & Anne Shirley, Diana Barry & Anne Shirley. Anne had a key, so she let herself in, quiet as a mouse, arms laden with bags from the market. Her sophomore class's papers on A Tale of Two Cities were poking out almost jauntily from the quilted bag Diana got her for her birthday.

AVENGERS ASSEMBLE

Worry by Neverever. (T) 2.4k, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark. During the pandemic, Steve wants help the best he can but immuno-compromised Tony worries about his company and his health.

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

Poetry and Plants by the_many_splendored. (T) 1.9k, Adam/Belle. It's amazing how much you can open up to a person when you're locked in a bookstore reading together.

BELLEVUE

Knives and Lighters by goreds. (M) 2.1k, Annie Ryder/Peter Welland. Annie Ryder finds herself in Bellevue's psychiatric hospital. She pretends to tolerate the whole experience, even if she really hates it. When a new, quiet guy comes to the ward, though, she finds herself intrigued.

BLACK SAILS

If this is Our Last Night by remuirius. (E) 2.3k, Captain Flint/John Silver. Silver and Flint are locked up together on the Walrus. Certain of their looming death at an enraged crew’s hands, Silver finds the courage to do things he’d only dreamed of until now.

BLACKKKLANSMAN

Someone Like Him by cowboykylux. (M) 2.2k, Flip Zimmerman/Reader. 'If there was one thing true more than anything else about all the reasons you loved him, it was that once your husband had his heart set on something, he was going to accomplish it.' Or, a sudden snow-storm cancels your plans for a date, and Flip Zimmerman decides that nothing, not even snow, will get in the way of treating you to something special.

BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA

Tell me it won’t always be this hard by Graendal. (T) 4.3k, Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto. He’d met Midoriya a few months ago during a field trip to the library. The kids had adored him, of course, even the ones who were usually shy about participating in new activities. Midoriya had a way of projecting a sense of all-encompassing safety and comfort with just his smile.Shouto had adored him too, maybe, even back then. A silly crush that had only grown during every subsequent field trip — which is truly absurd, considering the vast majority of their interactions at the time consisted of occasional eye contact while singing children’s songs.But now that they’ve spent hours talking almost every day for the past few weeks… calling it a silly crush might be an understatement. The idea that he’s actually been able to help Midoriya through this is inordinately pleasing.If there’s a silver lining to this at all — for him personally, at least — it’s that he’d seen Midoriya’s post requesting a virtual board game buddy. And that Midoriya is a patient enough person to teach Shouto how to play everything from scratch. He’d actually seemed excited at the opportunity.Maybe the opportunity for any sort of ongoing social interaction is worthy of excitement. These are strange times.

CALL THE MIDWIFE

Sanctuary (In Each Other) by WednesdayGilfillian. (T) 2.6k, Bernadette-Shelagh Turner/Patrick Turner. Set during the Christmas Special in S2. Specifically, during the unsettled night that Shelagh turned up on Patrick's doorstep.

CAPTIVE PRINCE

When We Went from Strangers to This by Aerica_Menai. (T) 3.5k, Damen/Laurent. Laurent is really sick, and decides to shut himself in his apartment and deal with it alone. His downstairs neighbor, Damen, gets worried enough to check on him, which went just fine - and then Damen got himself locked in. Featuring Star Trek TOS, coming outs both accidental and intentional, and Damen being his usual sunshine puppy self.

DCU

would you lie with me by Glove23. (G) 660 words, Diana (Wonder Woman)/Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne. Bruce catches a virus, and Diana and Clark come to help him.

DEADPOOL/SPIDERMAN

Avengers Monopoly by MsCaptainWinchester. (E) 1.4k, PeterParker/Wade Wilson, James “Bucky” Barnes/Steve Rogers. The Avengers are quarantined in Avengers Tower, and Peter and Wade see this as the perfect opportunity to try the new Avengers Monopoly set. They have their own house rules for property negotiation. No one told Tony. Oops?

omg they were quarantined by Jdragon122, LunaStories. (M) 2.6k, Peter Parker/Wade Wilson. Spidey has a cold and Deadpool, being the sexy boyfriend he is, goes to take care of his baby boy. But they're under quarantine and oh no, there's no more lube? What should they do?

Superheroes Don’t Get Scared by DefendersofMCUniverse. (T) 3.6k, Peter Parker/Wade Wilson. Peter, fresh out of college, gets invited to the tower to stay in one of the guest floors that has been left unoccupied for some time since the previous tenant ‘hero’ decided to leave for unknown reasons. Of course, a few weeks into living there and getting into a routine, the last hero pops onto his balcony. Peter offers for him to stay on his old floor because the dude looks like he could use a familiar place, and also dude is kinda terrifying, and like hell he is gonna admit that to the other heroes in the tower.

DETROIT: BECOME HUMAN

Games. Family. Love. by heizl, NickEllis1314. (G) 1.8k, Carl Manfred & Markus. Because of some rebellious protesters, Androids, and owners of said Androids, were ordered to stay inside. It'd been a long day of restlessness, and boredom, and Markus was almost genuinely excited to get Carl to bed so it could all finally be over. Carl wasn't exactly tired yet though, so they reminiscence for awhile.

DOCTOR WHO

What We Did During Our Quarantine by badxwolfxrising. (M) 4.6k WIP, Metacrisis Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler. Rose and the Metacrisis Doctor return to Torchwood from Bad Wolf Bay and are placed in a mandatory 72 hour quarantine. However will they pass the time? }:-)

DRAGON AGE II

shaking fingers, open palms by asexualf. (T) 2.4k, Fenris/Merrill. Kirkwall has issued her people remain in their homes until the sickness overtaking the city is gone. As always, the Alienage suffers the most under this new rule - and those who enforce it.

EXTRACURRICULAR ACTIVITIES

Three in a room by Tagus Knoll. (T, Underage) 4.6k, Kazuto/Darius Maynor/Chester Hayes. When Kazuto finds out they all have to be in the same room, he didn't expect that Chester, Darius and him end up dating.

FALL OUT BOY

‘Cause Everything Else is a Substitute for your Love by PadawanRyan. (G) 1.9k, Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz. Patrick and Pete are each self-isolating with their kids during the coronavirus pandemic but well, Patrick’s in Chicago and Pete’s in LA.

quarantine, or: how to land a boyfriend in 14 days by TooRational. (T) 6k, Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz. Patrick turns his head in Pete's direction and sees him, Patrick sees him, and his frown goes up a notch, and a fisted hand settles on one hip in that typical Patrick-is-a-grandma-pose, and Pete grins and runs full-tilt into Patrick's arms, disbalancing them both until they slam into the side of the house, tangled and half-frozen and definitely soon-to-be-bruised. He interrupts whatever rant Patrick had prepared that starts with 'you idiot' by tucking his frozen nose into Patrick's neck and sucking the warm air coming from Patrick's skin into greedy lungs, and grins even wider when Patrick yelps, offended as he always is by a breach of his personal space.

FIRE EMBLEM SERIES

Shelter from the Storm by Dameceles. (T) 4k, Elincia Ridell Crimea/Tibarn. It's a dark and stormy night when Elincia lends aid to Tibarn. He wants to return the favor, but she doesn’t have wings.

FRONTIER

Fever 1793 by goreds. (M, MCD) 2k, Samuel Grant, Cobb Ponds. Cobbs Pond and Samuel Grant experience the yellow fever epidemic in Philadelphia, 1793. One of them gets better.

FROZEN

It all comes out in the wash by middlemarch. (G) 1.1k, Anna/Kristoff. She'd knocked. Really, she had. It was their en suite bathroom, the room he said was over-the-top and extravagant and aggressively tiled, so it wasn't exactly her fault that she'd effectively barged in on him.

GAME OF THRONES

The Luckiest Man in the Whole F***ing World by OrangeTabby. (M) 7.2k, Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark. Sandor Clegane is in isolation at home after picking up the virus in the line of duty. Luckily, he’s got his cat for company and plenty of rubbish TV to stream. Then Stranger decided to go next door for a visit…. A story about friendship, food, romance and dubious television. And a pandemic.

GARGOYLES

Cabin Holiday by Isimile. (M) 1.2k, David Xanatos/Janine “Fox” Xanatos, Owen Burnett/ David Xanatos/Janine “Fox” Xanatos. After everything that happened, they decide to spend a week away in a cabin, to relax and to perhaps talk about their relationship. They're unexpectedly snowed in, which triggers memories of the Unseelie War.

GILMORE GIRLS

How dare the robins sing by middlemarch. (T) 900 words, Rory Gilmore/Jess Mariano, Dean Forester/Rory Gilmore, Dean Forester & Jess Mariano, Luke Danes & Jess Mariano. The two of them, the diner, for how long? At least the coffee shipment had made it in time. What he wouldn't have given for a fifth of Jack-- or anyone else. Literally, anyone.

HAIKYUU!!

Anchor by farfetched. (G) 5.3k, Semi Eita/Tendou Satori. Spreading their arms out either side of them, they stare at the ceiling. This is pulling on them in so many ways they didn't expect; laying here, on Tendou's floor, in Tendou's clothes, right down to their underwear because who expects a lockdown to get enforced overnight? They didn't bring anything much. They should have. They ought to chance going home. But they can't, so they don't. Home is an empty place right now anyway, and here there is food and laughter and music and in between all that is their realisation that they're not so over this Tendou thing after all.

Lockdown by needles. (T) 1.5k, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru. You never know what will escape from a box when you open it, just ask Pandora. For some it may be a disaster, for Iwaizumi could it be a golden opportunity?

Lockdown With A Fox by runningfromrealitytoanime. (T) 4.1k, Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi. Sakusa Kiyomi was a very careful person when it came to cleanliness so what happens if a certain setter with no sense of hygiene crashes at his place when Japan goes under a 2 week lockdown period?

HANNIBAL

Crumbles of unfulfilled expectations by Cinnamaldeide. (M) 11.9k, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter and other multi. Collection of ficlets of the length of a tweet or two ❀

Professor Graham’s Cheekbones Hotty & Extraordinary Foodie Husband by TheSilverQueen. (T) 3.3k, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter. Online classes due to the quarantine are Professor Graham's students learn that: 1) Professor Graham has a cute dog; 2) Professor Graham is married; and 3) Professor Graham's husband is smoking hot.

HARRY POTTER

A Long Night on The Bus by CuriousEmWanders. (E) 3.5k, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter. In which Draco & Harry are Auror partners stuck on a bus overnight. Draco has some memories that cause him to make some choices. Smut ensues, obviously.

A Pandemic by Theodore_Writes. (T) 611 words WIP, Luna Lovegood & Weasley Family. A new strain of Dragon Pox breaks out becoming a global pandemic. Many were unaware due to Fudge covering it up in an attempt to look better as a minister but when Xenophilius Malfoy/Lovegood reveals to his long time friend Arthur Weasley about what is happening around the world the entire Weasley family is horrified and takes immediate action. This is the story of what happens when a pandemic hits the Magical and Muggle world's.

A Welcome Distraction by MaesterChill. (E) 2.9k, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter. Draco and Harry get trapped in a Ministry lift. Whatever shall they do to distract themselves?

An Intangible Embrace by Drarrelie. (G) 365 words, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter. Harry is bored. Thank Merlin his husband had finally agreed to start using Muggle mobiles after Score was born, or he would've surely gone mad now.

And on the Seventh Day... by slytherco. FANART. (T) 0 words, During an Auror raid, Harry and Draco are separated from their partners and end up being hunted by the wrong people. Desperate times require desperate measures, so both men are sent to an unmarked location where a temporary safe house was set up for them. Stuck for Merlin knows how long, they have plenty of time to examine their turbulent relationship.

“Are you sure you know how to play that?” by julchen_in_red. FANART. (G) 0 words, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter. Harry and Draco offer comfort and entertainment to their neighborhood under lockdown by performing a traditional wizards' evening ballad on their balcony.

Better Side of the Bed by gnarf. (T) 2k, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter. It was all Malfoy's fault. Harry could be at the Burrow right now, but instead he was trapped in Malfoy's tiny flat. All because that dick couldn't stop bothering him about a stupid life debt he didn't even care about.

Breaking Point by Drarrelie. (T) 365 words, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter. After almost two years as Auror partners, they've learned to function quite well together most of the time. Right now, though, Malfoy seems to be more on edge than ever.

Civil Hands (Unclean) by p1013. (E) 8.5k, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter. While he and Malfoy reached something like a truce in the years between the end of the War and now, their Quidditch rivalry has only grown. And with it, a simmering tension that is absolutely not sexual, no matter how many times Hermione raises her eyebrow when Harry's drinking at her and Ron's house. Not even when his head is resting on the kitchen table next to his empty glass, and he's moaning about Draco bloody Malfoy, and his bloody perfect seat on a broom, and his bloody perfect technique.But as Harry stares over his teammates heads towards the Puddlemere United bench, he catches a flash of wet white-blond hair and flashing grey eyes, and he thinks that Hermione's eyebrow might have a point.

Conservation for Beginners by Aneiria. (E) 4.6k, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy. Hermione Granger didn't think twice about taking guardianship of Hoddholm Island for the summer. A deserted, peaceful island among the endangered Golden Snidgets is just what she needs to escape the anxieties that the end of the war brought with it. When Draco Malfoy arrives as the other guardian and they are left to themselves for a month, they both seem to be struggling in their own ways. Can they be there for each other when they most need it?

Exposure by Bridgette_Hayden. (M) 2.6k, Harry Potter/Severus Snape. Snape and Harry volunteer to quarantine themselves for charity, and to comfort the world. Isolation leaves them feeling exposed.

Flames by Aneiria. (E) 3.9k, Hermione Granger/Theodore Nott, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy/Theodore Nott, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy/Theodore Nott. The whole of the Ministry of Magic and its workers are forced into an in-place lockdown quarantine following a magical accident at the DMLE. When Hermione Granger and Theo Nott are put into isolation away from their boyfriend, Draco Malfoy, how will the triad cope?

G Guess I'm Stuck With You by LittleSixx. (T) 4k, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy. Draco and Hermione are stuck in a Ministry lift on New Year's Eve.

In a Week by Suchsmallhands. (M, MCD) 12.4k, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin. Sirius goes under quarantine in his flat, but fortunately he was able to get some reading material and a friend to keep him occupied during isolation.

Into the Wine Cellar by vivi1138. (E) 2.5k, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter. Harry should know better than to touch random objects that do not belong to him. Getting stuck in a cellar with Malfoy, of all people, leads to an interesting development.

Lockdown with the Malfoys by a_reader_and_writer. (G) 1.2k, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy. Dracos's parents are just visiting Harry and Draco for their weekly dinner when the Ministry of Magic announces a total lockdown. Awkward situations happen.

Lockdown Husband by Houseofmalfoy. (T) 4.7k, Rodolphus Lestrange/Augustus Rookwood. "Got ready to leave after a hook-up for the guy to break the news that we’re on lockdown. We’re stuck together. this is the start of my bad rom-com."

Risk and Reward by nagemeikenu. (G) 2.6k, Rodolphus Lestrange/Augustus Rookwood. Augustus (Gus) Rookwood manages to survive completely alone in a burned down cabin for nearly three weeks. He's rescued by a gorgeous state trooper. Fluff ensues.

She’s A Rainbow by Ladderofyears. (M) 4.8k, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter. Draco never dreamt that he'd have to give birth without Harry, but when his beloved husband is put under MACUSA quarantine, he finds that he doesn't have a choice. With all the bravery he can muster, the best friend in the whole world and a pilfered magic mirror, Draco discovers that hope can be found even when you least expect it.

Stay with me through the storm by Pinkelephant42. FANART. (NR) 23 words, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter. Dragon Keeper Draco finds ways to keep his boyfriend Harry on the dragon retreat longer. Harry probably doesn’t mind.

Ten below and falling by agentmoppet. (E) 8.6k, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter. In which a pandemic results in Harry being locked in the Astronomy tower with Malfoy while they struggle to find the cure.

The Question of When by Misdemeanor1331. (G) 5.3k, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy. When a global pandemic emerges, Draco and Hermione are once again called upon to discover a vaccine.

Unlikely Quarantine fellows by Isimile. (T) 861 words, Neville Longbottom & Blaise Zabini. Neville and Blaise are quarantined together following an accident in their potions class and they get talking.

HAWAII FIVE-O

Spring Break by stephmex. (T) 3.5k, Steve McGarrett/Danny Williams. Danny had been looking forward to this trip for weeks, ever since the Christmas holidays when he had planned the Spring Break vacation together with Grace. But as much as he’d been looking forward to it, boarding the plane with Charlie's small hand grasped tightly in his own feels slightly off. One thing feeling off is this stupid new virus that you just can’t ignore because the news coverage is all over the place. The other thing feeling off goes by the name of Steve—and Danny is leaving him behind with insomnia and a concussion and the sure knowledge that there is something that Steve is not telling him.

HOUSE OF CARDS

Skilled Hands and Talented Tongues by goreds. (M) 1.2k, Remy Danton/Jackie Sharp/Alan Cooke. Frank Underwood's made enemies, so it's no surprise that Jackie Sharp and Remy Danton get locked down due to a threat during one of their meetings at the White House. But Alan Cooke's there too, which just creates a brand new dynamic.

Isolated by Slashaddict96. (T) 1.3k, Connor Bowers/Richie Tozier. Richie and his parents get stuck isolated at the hospital when a dangerous outbreak occurs. What's worse it's with his least favorite person

IWATOBI SWIM CLUB (MAZE RUNNER CROSSOVER)

Free from the Maze by runningfromrealitytoanime. (Graphic Depictions of Violence, MCD). 33k, WIP, Gen. Haru finds himself without his memories except for his name before he was chucked into the Glade populated entirely by boys. As he tries to make sense of his new life amongst the Gladers, Haru realizes there is only one goal in mind: to run and escape the Maze.

KINGSMAN

Rarely Pure and Never Simple by andthenshesaid-write. (T) 2.3k, Harry Hart/Gary “Eggsy” Unwin. Eggsy and Harry get stuck in a train. Some important things need to be said.

LITTLE WOMEN

a party hardly ever goes the way it is planned by middlemarch. (G) 900 words, Theodore Laurence/Amy March, Friedrich Bhaer/Josephine March. Teddy had written she must come. He had run out of arguments.

Distances by MercuryGray. (G) 1.5k WIP, John Brooke/Margaret March. A Modern March AU - In the midst of global pandemic, the March and Brooke families are trying hold it together.

MCU

Bracing by babywarg. (G) 2.5k, Tony Stark/Stephen Strange. In which Tony Stark makes a few declarations in response to a disease outbreak, and brooks no dissent.

Must Love Dogs (Right Here at the End of the Line) by bookjunkiecat. (G) 2.3k, Bucky & PTSD, Bucky & Pal (dog), Bucky & Steve. During the virus pandemic, an already fragile Bucky has to venture out to pick up more of his very necessary meds. Returning home, he has a panic attack and retreats into an alley. While there he rescues a dog...or rather, the dog rescues him. Once he calms down, Bucky calls a veternarian's office, and reaches a warm, calm man named Steve.

Take Two by heyjupiter. (T) 14.1k, Bruce Banner/Tony Stark. When Tony Stark is injured in Afghanistan, he wakes up in captivity to find that a mysterious American doctor has plugged his heart into a car battery and saved his life. Tony is determined to repay the favor; when he escapes from the Ten Rings, he's taking Bruce Banner with him.

MERCY STREET

I took my Power in my hand by middlemarch. (G) 1.9k, Jedediah Foster/Mary Phinney. It wouldn't do to consider just what it was that had spilled. It was war, it was a kitchen with a corrupt steward, it was a rapidly warming April in Virginia and the man she wasn't supposed to have any finer feelings for was looking at her quizzically.

MERLIN

Merlin Versus Quarantine by coconutknightshade. (T) 1.3k WIP, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon, Leon/Morgana. Merlin isn't quite 50 Shades of Done with Quarantine, but he and Arthur do have dry-erase "Day's Since Last Meltdown" boards mounted in the kitchen.

The Night Is So Long When Everything’s Wrong by Hum My Name. (G) 4.2k, Merlin & Arthur Pendragon. One month after banishing Merlin, Arthur's given a message in the form of a dirty red neckerchief. His ex-manservant's been captured and the captors want the king to pay the ransom.Going after Merlin is the easy part. Spending a long night in a small cell with no one but Merlin with him is a bit more difficult.

MIRACULOUS LADYBUG

Love Bug by onetruthree. (T) 3.3k, Chat Noir & Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Marinette feels the safest with her friends by her side. But when the dead come back to life, that safety is tested.

Quiet by BookGirlFan. (G) 669 words, Chat Noir & Ladybug. Ladybug and Chat Noir sit on a rooftop in an empty Paris.

MIRAGE

Murder Scarecrow and His Pissed-Off Handler by goreds. (M) 1.7k, Gabriel Taylor/Doug Marsh. Gabriel screwed up a fairly simple mission, and now he and Doug are trapped in a tiny safe house somewhere in Eastern Europe. Sort-of romance ensues.

NCT

I Go Where You Go by CocoaBop. (T) 5k, Dong Si Cheng/Lee Taeyong. Taeyong thought he was prepared for another global pandemic. But this pandemic was different. In just a few weeks of isolation, Sicheng went from the shy, awkward roommate Taeyong rarely saw to his only anchor to the outside world.

OCEAN’S 8

Every Princess Needs a Castle by ShadowHaloedAngel. (T) 1.3k, Lou Miller/Debbie Ocean. Being stuck inside is sending Debbie a little bit crazy, even though she knows it's for a good reason. Fortunately she has Lou and a foster dog to help keep her sane.

Your Princess Is In Another Castle by ShadowHaloedAngel. (T) 3.3k, Nine Ball/Tammy. Nine Ball decides if she's going to be locked down, she'd rather it was with Tammy and her kids.

ONE DIRECTION

and the sun will shine by leighbot. (G) 5.1k, Zayn Malik/Harry Styles. They're practicing self-isolation during the COVID-19 pandemic. Two little boys shouldn't be too hard to entertain, right?

PITCH PERFECT

Basic Sickness by CamGray. (M), 1.3k, Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell. Chloe snaps the mask over her face and replies, “I was always smart, you just weren’t paying attention. Vet school didn’t hurt either. Now come on. I’m going to rest, why don’t you go get some work done. You can’t nanny me all day. You’ve got more important things to do.” Beca shakes her head. “What could be more important than this?” She says, stressing each syllable.

Dry Spell by aliciameade. (E) 2.7k, Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell. Tumblr prompt: Just imagine Beca and Chloe casually watching a porno together and when I say “casually” I mean “getting horny and ending up doing it right there.”

High-Speed Connection by aliciameade. (E) 4.1k, Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell, Chloe Beale/Aubrey Posen, Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell/Aubrey Posen. So Beca is a bit of an exhibitionist. So what? What could possibly happen when she decides to play with Chloe while she Skypes with Aubrey?Sin. Sin is what happens.

Ready Or Not by aliciameade. (E) 4.6k, Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell. In a time of social-distancing, Beca and Chloe finally find a way to pass the time.

She’s Such a Bad Girl by CamGray. (E) 711 words, Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell. “Chloe!” Chloe pauses her singing to call back to Beca. “Yes, love of my life?” Beca rounds the corner. “You’ve sung ‘Work From Home’ every day for the past 128 days. You know I love your singing voice, but can you please, for the love of the Carona gods, do something else.” Chloe pouts. “Well what should I do?”“I don’t know. I’m about to clean the house.” Chloe flips her hair flirtatiously and rests her arms loosely on Beca’s shoulders before saying, “You do too much. You’re not Superman you know.”

Watch Our Bodies Intertwine by tmylm. (E) 7.2k, Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell. Beca and Chloe are quarantined (yes, another "and they were quarantined!" fic) in Beca's Los Angeles home. Beca has managed to push away the feelings she harbored for Chloe back in college—they're adults now, she can behave herself. Or so she thinks.

you are my favorite thing by iPhone. (M) 3.2k. Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell. Beca and Chloe find themselves alone in their apartment after the instruction comes to self-isolate. Set pre-PP3. Just pretend PP3 doesn’t exist.

POLDARK

Tenderness is not like money by middlemarch. (T) 599 words, Demelza Carne/Ross Poldark, Demelza Carne & Dwight Enys. What was the real crime?

QUEEN

Stay Right Where You Are by Stormtrooperinclogs. (T) 2k, John Deacon/Brian May, Freddie Mercury/Roger Taylor. Brian and John are under government-mandated quarantine because of the virus. What are they gonna do???

RED WHITE & ROYAL BLUE

bend the rules by perfect-porcelain. (E) 6.8k, Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor. Alex is stuck inside with his roommate Liam and Liam's boyfriend Spencer and he thinks he's going to go insane but when his neighbor in the alleyway across from his window moves in he supposes that the quarantine won't be so bad after all.

Just Checking In by JessJesstheBest. (G) 1k, Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor. In an au where COVID-19 happens to Henry and Alex, they try and stay connected through self-isolation.

SHADOWHUNTERS

Malec Malaise by Fluxx. (G) 2.9k, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood. Magnus has a cold! In the absence of his magic, it seems he managed to catch some common Mundane bug. Well, that should be fine. Nothing a little rest and tea can't take care of... right?

SHERLOCK

Going Viral by trillian_jdc. (G) 1.1k WIP, Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade. Mycroft Holmes has been exposed to the coronavirus and prepares to self-quarantine, which he's very used to. His isolation is accidentally interrupted by Greg Lestrade, who winds up sheltering in place with him.

Thank You John by AnAnYaH. (G), 352 words, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson. Quarantine day fic.

SHETLAND

Remote Communities by aurorlaura. (T) 3.4k, Duncan Hunter/Jimmy Perez. Jimmy Perez, Duncan Hunter and their daughter Cassie experience the Covid-19 lockdown in Shetland.

STAR TREK: PICARD

Of Malady and Mother by Boldlynyooming. (G) 4.1k, Elnor & Zani. There was an outbreak of Beluxian flu on Vashti, and Elnor was not allowed to go out.

STAR TREK: VOYAGER

Confined To Quarters by ShayneyL. (E) 1.6k, Harry Kim/Tom Paris. Tom and Harry are in trouble again. Will they find a way to entertain themselves while confined to quarters? (Spoiler: yes.)

Social Distance by MiaCooper. (T) 1.2k, Chakotay/Kathryn Janeway. The terrible trials of a captain in quarantine.

STAR WARS

Fever of Love by ladyofreylo. (E) 8.1k, Rey/Flip Zimmerman. Rey and Flip shelter in the library overnight during a flu epidemic. Rey believes Flip is part of a racist group, and Flip can't tell Rey he's undercover because it jeopardizes his investigation. He asks her to trust him. Will she? And will she allow him to help her friend's brain-damaged brother escape the clutches of the evil organization?

I Know You by Idrilhadhafang. (M) 739 words, WIP, Poe Dameron/Kylo Ren. After a dogfight outside the Raddus, Poe Dameron and Kylo Ren are trapped on a planet below, with no memories for either of them and only being able to rely on each other.

Please don’t take him just because you can by middlemarch. (T), 911 words, Finn & Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Finn & Rey & Rose Tico. It wasn't a terrible job, it was the pandemic. Rey kept telling herself that, hoping she'd believe it. Or that it would all turn out to be a bad dream caused by eating government cheese before bed. Still, there were bright spots.

Something To Look Forward To by spacewitchqueen. (G) 1k, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren. While self-isolating, Kylo manages to make a new acquaintance. Perhaps even a new friend? Perhaps in time something more.

There’s been a Death, in the opposite house by middlemarch. (G) 100 words, Kylo Ren/Rey. Crisis was supposed to bring out the best in people. That was the silver lining, Rey was pretty sure that was the line anyway.

STAR WARS LEGENDS

Cabin Fever by Keldae. (G) 1k, Gen. Theron hates being locked down in one location on the best of days. Being isolated with only a Sith Lord, an irate Wookiee, and (the head of) a protocol droid that won't shut up for company? He's pretty sure he's in at least the second Corellian hell.

Pinned Down by Keldae. (T) 696 words, Female Jedi Knight/Theron Shan. The only option is to stay hidden inside and hope for a rescue.

The Waiting Game by Greyias. (T) 4.4k, Female Jedi Knight/Theron Shan, Satele Shan & Theron Shan. The worst part about all of this was the waiting. Theron hated standing on the sidelines as everyone else risked their lives. He needed something to do. Anything to keep him distracted from his own thoughts.

SUPERGIRL

Darkest Before The Dawn by Val_Creative. (T) 1.4k, Kara Danvers/Lena Luther. Lena ends up diagnosed with a serious virus. Kara gets a little panicky about this and worries enough to visit her.

SUPERNATURAL

Fourteen Days and Four Dozen Eggs by Mandala Rose. (E) 5.6k, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester. As the Milton-Winchester household prepare to hunker down and #flattenthecurve, Dean makes a trip to the grocery store, for what was supposed to be their normal weekly grocery run. After all, they aren't the kind of people to panic and over-buy, right?

Hickory Dickory Dean by Carrieosity. (M) 2k, Castiel/Dean Winchester. When Castiel's library has to close because of the coronavirus pandemic, the librarians need to get a little creative in order to keep serving the community. Castiel has no problem recording virtual storytimes, but when it comes to adding in songs and things, he needs to call in a little extra help.

Knock by hit_the_books. (E) 2.5k, Castiel/Dean Winchester, past Dean Winchester/Lisa Braeden. Dean and Cas have been living together as roommates for about a year when the COVID-19 pandemic forces Douglas County health officials to issue a "stay at home" order. With Dean working from home and Cas trapped there with him, Dean starts to realize that he doesn't really know much about the younger man he's living with. And then he knocks on and opens up Cas's bedroom door one day and discovers far more than he was expecting.

It'll Be Fine. by ChloeDarling. (G) 1.4k, Castiel/Dean Winchester. Forced to self-isolate, Castiel finds himself succumbing to the boredom as he runs out of ways to keep himself entertained. Luckily, Dean Winchester has a plan to save the day.

Next Time, I Choose Death by CeliPuff, Winchesterlovr0508. (M) 1.2k, Castiel/Dean Winchester. In light of this pandemic, I decided to write some daily journal entries on how we survived the 14 day quarantine. It’s me, my brother and my best friend, what can go wrong?

No Dent by spnsmile. FANFIC AND FANART (E) 7k, Castiel/Dean Winchester. Because the Impala is the best place to lock Dean and Castiel away when in the middle of another fight. They really need to talk and close the distance created by their stubborn heads. At least, Jack thought so.

Throw Away the Key by CeliPuff, Ketch22. (E) 2.1k WIP, Castiel/Dean Winchester. multiple other relationships. After his father dies and leaves him nothing but the coolest car ever manufactured, the whole world turns to shit. Caught in the middle of a pandemic while attending the funeral, Dean is told he can’t return home and has to find somewhere else to ride out the mandatory month-long quarantine. Out of options, he calls his best friend Benny.Cas has lived with Benny for awhile - the bed was comfy, rent was cheap... the orgies were just a bonus. It wasn’t a half-bad place to live out a permanent bachelor lifestyle, or an irritating lockdown - but he’s about to get more than he bargained for when Benny takes in a stray.

Outbreak 2019 by spnsmile. FANFIC AND FANART (T) 1.7k, Castiel/Dean Winchester. There's a spreading virus around and against it the medical staff are in the front lines. Castiel is a doctor and he just texted his husband he's positive of the virus.He awaits his fate in silence thinking of Dean.

THE 100

In Fair Corona by eternaleponine. (M) 8.3k, Clarke Griffin/Lexa. While returning from a service trip abroad, Lexa volunteers to take another flight when theirs is overbooked, and Clarke is forced to accompany her. When someone on the flight gets sick, they find themselves quarantined far from home with only each other for company. Can they overcome their differences and realize that they're in this together?

THE AVENGERS/MASS EFFECT TRILOGY

Stuck with You by sgteam14283. (G) 3.3k WIP, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov, Female Ryder/James Vega, Kaidan Alenko/Female Shepard. Adults can handle being stuck somewhere for a long period of time. For the most part.

THE EXPANSE

How to Have Fun in Quarantine at the UN by goreds. (M) 1.4k, Chrisjen Avasarala/Sadavir Errinwright, Arjun/Chrisjen Avasarala. Chrisjen Avasarala and the whole of the United Nations, including Sadavir Errinwright, are on lockdown during a pandemic. Mild non-social distancing ensues.

THE FLASH

Between Hope and Fear by Purpleyin. (T) 4.1k, Cisco Ramon/Hartley Rathaway. During the pandemic, Hartley tries to help. He tries to keep going and do whatever he can, from a distance. Everything is going as well as can be expected, until his world comes crashing down with one phone call from Caitlin Snow.

THE GRISHA TRILOGY

watch the world go by by JemDoe. (T) 823 words, Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov. “The plague of 758 was a very serious issue, made worse by the Fold, Alina. Supplies were so hard to reach to the other side of the country…” “Wipe that smile off your face before talking about a plague that was made worse by your actions, then."

THE HOBBIT

Cave in by Isimile. (T) 1k, Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield. Of course the cave in has to happen just when Bilbo is accompanying Thorin to a visit of the newly re-opened mines. Thorin just have the worst luck.

THE LORD OF THE RINGS

Nowhere else by Roselightfairy. (T) 1.2k, Gimli/Legolas Greenleaf. In preparation of an anticipated attack from nearby Dunland, Éomer has ordered that Aglarond go into lockdown.At least Legolas and Gimli are together.

THE MAGNUS ARCHIVES

a melody played in a penny arcade by aguntoaknifefight. (T) 2.7k, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas. Jon is trapped in the Institute. Things change.Or: Peter Lukas’s post-divorce pettiness inadvertently saves the world.

THE SIMARILLION AND OTHER HISTORIES OF MIDDLE-EARTH

A WORLD WITHOUT GRANDPARENTS by bluehair. (G) 1k, Maglor & Finwe. I really didn't plan this. But it wanted to be written.

THE SOFT DOCTRINE OF IMAGINOS

On the Wrong SIde of the Mirror by Imaginos_Buzzardo_Desdinova. (M) 2.1k, Gen. Trapped on the wrong side of mirror, Imaginos must find his way back to stop the evil Desdinova. He finds only one other person who also was tricked into the mirror.

THE TERROR

Lift Fire by Gigi_Sinclair. (G) 2.5k, Thomas Jopson/Lt Edward Little. "Tom doesn't speak, either, until there's a strange grinding groan, the lights flicker, and the lift shudders to an unexpected stop.Oh, you have to be joking, Edward thinks, as Tom says, 'I'd heard they'd been having some problems with this one.'"

Look for the Helpers by goreds. (T) 1.2k, Captain Francis Crozier/Commander James Fitzjames. Dr. Francis Crozier, stuck at home, lends a hand to his sick next-door neighbor, James Fitzjames.

THE TRANSFORMERS

Maybe it’s enough by choomchoom. (T) 2.8k, Drift/Rodimus, Prowl/Starscream. The boys deal with the pandemic.

Quarantined by pipermca. (G) 2.7k, Gen. Even when the Decepticons are forced into quarantine to stop the spread of a deadly disease, Soundwave still has work to do. If only his cassettes would keep it down...

THE UNTAMED

The Usefulness of Bunnies as Messengers is Strictly Dependant on the Bunny In Question by theskyandsea. (G) 2.8k, Lan Wangji/Wei Wuxian. Wei Wuxian is quarantined in an apartment with Jiang Cheng and it's going about as well as one would expect. Which is to say, the second Wei Wuxian discovers just how hot his across-the-street neighbour is he jumps at the opportunity to talk to someone else.Even if that talking is through the medium of messenger bunnies.

We’re on a boat and... by chatcolat. (T) 1.4k, Gen. Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian get stuck on a boat and accidentally end up talking to each other for five minutes while they wait for rescue.

THE WITCHER

Carefully We Gather by tackytiger. (M) 2.4k, Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier. They've been snowed in at the inn for six days now, and Jaskier still isn't speaking to Geralt.It's just, killing monsters is what Geralt does. Just because this one came a little bit too close to killing him first, doesn't mean that Jaskier has to get in a sulk about it. And why does he care so much, anyway?

Distanced Dears by jaskiersvalley. (T) 2.2k, Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach/Geralt of Rivia, Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach/Jaskier, Geralt/Jaskier/Yennefer/Cahir. Given the fact Geralt worked in the Accident and Emergency department, it was highly likely he would catch the virus, even with every precaution. Not wanting to put his whole family at risk, he and Cahir move into Cahir's old flat and they try to weather the storm by themselves when Geralt does get infected.

No More Water, but Fire Next Time by ladivvinatravestia. (T) 7.7k, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Jaskier, Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier. Jaskier and Ciri take shelter at a refugee camp following the fall of Cintra, where they find that Pestilence and War often ride together.

oh my god they were plague-mates by wombatpop. (T) 4.3k, Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier. “They’ve closed the streets, Geralt. We’re stuck in here.” Jaskier and Geralt stuck in an inn together. What could go wrong?

The Fortnight by Elizabeth. (E) 7.5k, Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier. A plague is ravaging the Northern Kingdoms. First Oxenfurt is locked down, and then Novigrad. Geralt is immune, but Jaskier isn't. Rosemary and Thyme is a pretty nice place to spend a fortnight, but it's still a long time to spend with just one person--even if that person is your best friend.A lot can happen in two weeks.

Trouble In Here by Val_Creative. (M) 2.5k, Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier. Jaskier accidentally barricades himself into Geralt’s room when he’s been cursed, forcing them to isolate together.

YU-GI-OH! DUEL MONSTERS

And they were quarantine-mates by Alecto. (T) 4.8k, Jounouchi Katsuya/Kaiba Seto. The order came down while they slept. Now Kaiba was stranded at Joey's place for the foreseeable future.

YUYU HAKUSHO: GHOST FILES

Six Feet Apart by Penguiduck. (G) 2.4k, Kurama/Reader. You've only been living in your condo for two months, but you have yet to meet your neighbor. When you're sentenced to working from home due to the recent COVID-19 virus, you step onto your shared balcony for the first time. You meet Shuichi and really like him. The only problem? You have to stay six feet apart.

#lockdownfest #lockdown fest #Masterpost #Week 1 #fanfic #fanart #fanfest #multifandom event #multifandom #multiship #cw: coronavirus #cw:quarantine #long post

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queerebrum · 4 years

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It’s late and I (cannot seem to find my way home tonight) | 2k | Jackson-centric. Written for @jacksonwhittemoreweek 2020, day 5: part of the pack!

also on AO3!

Jackson had hated everything about London almost as soon as he’d arrived. Sure, at least he hadn’t died here. He hadn’t terrorized an entire town and everyone in it. Here, he was just another face in the crowd. He was nothing at all, really.

It was freeing and heartbreaking.

Most of Jackson’s life had been spent searching for a connection, for a family. He’d tried to be the best son, everyone’s best friend, the best boyfriend he could be for Lydia. He gave everyone the best of him, and yet none of it even touched the emptiness inside him. David and Jacqueline Whittemore cared about him, had raised him, given him every opportunity to succeed, and even claimed to love him.

But….to Jackson, love was supposed to be more than a word. It wasn’t supposed to be a burden, like he was just another ‘to do’ on the list of things his father wanted to accomplish with his life.

The closest Jackson had gotten to feeling like he was actually a part of something had been those brief weeks in Beacon Hills as a werewolf. While Derek and Peter had done their best to shove a lifetime’s worth of instruction on how not to become a mindless killing machine (again) into a few weeks of time, he’d felt like maybe he was actually connected to them. The bonds of the pack, they were real, tangible. Jackson could feel them: Derek and Peter, Isaac, and even, faintly, Scott. He’d felt connected, felt included.

And then, he’d crossed an ocean, and now all he felt was alone.

“Whittemore!”

His name shook him out of his head and he turned away from the window he’d been staring through to see the closest person he had to a friend, the son of one of his father’s business associates, waving at him. Jackson gave a halfhearted wave back and shoved his hands into his pockets, wandering towards him and the few friends he’d brought with him.

“Little birdy told me you’ve got a birthday coming up,” Andrew said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Any idea what you want to do for it?”

Go home. “No,” Jackson answered. His birthday was a full moon. He was sure that, alone somewhere quiet, he could keep his wolf anchored enough not to hurt anyone, but to do that somewhere with loud music and strangers? It felt dangerous. “I’m not sure I’m up for anything. It’s not like I know anyone here.”

Andrew’s eyes narrowed slightly, and then he smirked and gave a quick shake of his head. “You’ve got to, mate. It’s your birthday. I’ll plan something for you. I certainly know people.”

“I’m really not sure--”

“Unless you’ve got a reason not to have a birthday party ,” Andrew smirked. “You won’t have to do anything, I promise. It’ll be fun.”

With a resigned sigh, Jackson nodded. Andrew beamed, and then moved like he might grab Jackson’s shoulder. At the last moment, he hesitated and then waved for Jackson to follow him out of their fathers’ office building and into the sights and sounds of London.

Planning, it turned out, was something that Andrew took a lot of pride in. That meant that all Jackson had to do was sit back and let him take care of everything. There was a pub to rent out, music to arrange, and catering to handle. Andrew made it all look easy. Andrew and Lydia, Jackson thought casually, would probably get along well.

It also turned out that he had dramatically miscalculated his ability to control his shift on a full moon, but by the time he realized, it was too late to take it all back.

And so, as the moon rose outside, he found himself hiding in the corner of a loud, dark room crawling with bodies. One of his clawed hands was clenched tightly in a fist, and he was keeping his eyes forcefully closed so as to not alert the entire pub to the glowing cobalt blue of them.

His wolf didn’t want loud noises and strangers. His wolf wanted his pack, wanted to be let off the leash to run and play and exist with the closest thing he really had to family. Jackson couldn’t help but realize that that was what he wanted too, not just his wolf. He’d run from Beacon HIlls, afraid of the mess he’d left behind, not ready to face the terror of what he’d done. He’d crossed an ocean and hoped that he’d be able to forget what it was like to be a monster, to pretend he was just normal.

Just your everyday, ordinary, American werewolf in London.

The pumping bass of the music was agony on his overly sensitive ears. He was unable to tune it out, to focus on anything else. His control, tenuous as it was, began to slip and then, out of nowhere, a scent hit his nose. Beneath the scent of sweat and alcohol, he smelled home, safety …

Alpha.

Jackson heard footsteps approaching him, the scent was tangible and real and here. He didn’t flinch away when a broad, warm hand reached out to grip the back of his neck. Jackson fought to not let out the high pitched whine that grew in the back of his throat.

“Get it together, Jackson. Find your anchor.” Derek’s voice was always gentler than Jackson expected it to be. He spoke like a man who knew what it was like to be broken and handled poorly. It wasn’t kind per se, but it wasn’t harsh either. Derek was prepared to cut himself repeatedly on his own sharp edges before he’d let anyone be hurt like he’d been.

Jackson dragged in a few breaths. Derek’s scent and presence blocked out the noise. He could feel the pack bonds, now glowing and warm rather than weak and brittle as they had been. Slowly, once he was sure he was back in control, he was able to open and take in the image of the man in front of him.

Derek was dressed casually and, when Jackson wasn’t overwhelmed by the scent of alpha , he sort of smelled like stale air and the city. Jackson shook his neck out of the alpha’s grip and unclenched his hand, keeping it angled away from the masses so nobody saw the slowly healing crescents from where his claws had pierced his palms. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s your birthday,” Derek answered, still standing closer to Jackson than he would have expected. “And a full moon. Lydia said sometimes your birthdays meant you made poor choices.”

Jackson couldn’t help but smile at that; nobody knew him better than Lydia Martin. “So you just decided to get on a plane and fly here to make sure I didn’t make any poor choices?”

Derek raised both eyebrows and pointedly moved his eyes in a slow circle. “Apparently I was too late to stop that.”

“I didn’t plan this,” Jackson said. “I got...bullied into it.”

“You got bullied?” Incredulity dripped from Derek’s voice.

“Jackson! There you are.” Jackson winced at Andrew’s voice. Derek shifted so he was beside him instead of blocking him from view. Andrew stopped a few paces away from them, his eyes flicking to Derek.

“Who’s this?” Andrew asked, his voice carefully paced and even-toned. A half-empty beer bottle dangled from one hand, his other motioning towards Derek.

Jackson saw Derek take in the other man, watched his jaw clench imperceptibly, saw the way Derek’s hands flexed, ready for a fight. In control, with all of his senses heightened by the moon and his alpha by his side, Jackson could smell the wolfsbane, the gun oil and lighter fluid that marked Andrew as the hunter that he was. Did Andrew or Andrew’s father even know Jackson’s father? Or had this all just been a setup, designed to end with him dead?

Obviously displeased that Jackson hadn’t answered him, Andrew turned to Derek, “Were you even on the list?” And then asked Jackson, “Has he been bothering you?”

“I’m just -” Derek started.

“This is my boyfriend, Derek,” Jackson finished quickly. “From California.” He wrapped one of his arms through Derek’s and leaned his head over to rest against the curve of Derek’s shoulder. “We’re not really still a thing but I told him I missed him. It’s my birthday, so he came.”

“Oh,” Andrew said, still tense and flicking his eyes to Derek sparingly. “Well, cheers, Derek.” Andrew tilted his beer bottle towards him. “Jacks, there’s someone I want you to meet.” He held out a hand towards Jackson.

“In a little while,” Jackson said, pressing one hand to Derek’s chest, not daring to look up and see if he was playing along. “Derek just got here. I’ll find you in a few minutes, okay?”

“Sure.” Andrew eyed the pair warily once more, and took a few steps backwards before spinning and disappearing into the crowd.

“We’re leaving. Now, ” Derek said into Jackson’s ear. The beta agreed, letting Derek tug him through the kitchen towards the back door of the pub. “Did you know he was a hunter?”

“Not until two minutes ago.” Jackson said, rubbing at the bridge of his nose as they walked. “I thought you were just overblowing the whole ‘lone wolf dies, pack survives’ thing.”

Derek gave Jackson a hard look. “It’s not just a mantra. I lived it.”

“Well, turns out that I’ve spent the last six weeks being seduced by a hunter.” Jackson gave a harsh exhale, frustration tugging at his control. The pull of the moon was strong in his blood.

“Did you sleep with him?” Derek asked, grabbing one of Jackson’s shoulders and tugging the beta around to face him. Jackson was surprised by the vulnerability in Derek’s eyes, something he’d seen only sparingly before. “Did you?”

“No,” Jackson answered, blinking rapidly. “No, I haven’t been...feeling well since I got here.” He’d been dedicated to ignoring the fact that being in London had all but killed his sex drive. “But I’m beginning to think this whole thing was a setup to get me to lose control so they could kill me.”

Relief washed over Derek’s face. When they got to the back door, they found the way blocked with mountain ash. Derek swore, pulling out his phone. “Yeah,” he said, giving Jackson a deadpan glare. “I’d say it was a setup.” He dialed and put the phone to his ear.

Jackson frowned. “Who are you even calling?”

“Backup.” Derek’s face went sour as Jackson heard the person on the other end of the line go, ‘So I was right?’ Derek frowned, but gruffly responded, “Gloat later. Come get us out of here.”

Jackson didn’t distinctly remember mentioning Andrew’s name to Lydia, but it turned out that at some point he had. And, in a very fortunate series of events, Lydia had mentioned it to Allison, who had mentioned it to Chris, who had recognized it as the name of an English hunting family. It hadn’t taken long to put the pieces together: Jackson was in danger.

The fact that Jackson’s birthday was on a full moon had only prompted the pack into action faster .

The Argents, Isaac, Stiles, and Peter had accompanied Derek to London, and it was the five of them, along with Derek and Jackson, that remained in the pub after they’d cleared it out. Allison had Andrew tied neatly to a chair. At some point, he’d been gagged with his own tie, because Stiles of all people had gotten sick of listening to his unending tirade against werewolves and all things supernatural. They were waiting for the arrival of Andrew’s father, so that Chris Argent could exert his ancient hunting family dominance and put a stop to the facade.

“Did you have to tell him I was your boyfriend?” Derek hissed to Jackson, who was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

Jackson glanced up at Derek and chuckled. “It was the first thing I thought of that would get him to leave us alone. I didn’t want to make him even more angry by pointing out that my alpha had crashed his party.”

Derek’s face went through a complicated series of microexpressions before landing on fond amusement. There was a tilt to his lips that Jackson thought might have been a smile.

Before Derek could reply, the door slammed open and a furious Harrison Deighton appeared in the doorway, his eyes scanning the occupants. He was accompanied by a pair of men, large, imposing figures that didn’t move more than a few feet from their leader. “Release my son,” he snarled.

Chris Argent sat lazily on a barstool, one foot dangling, not yet looking at the newest additions to the room. “Did you know he was planning this? A birthday party for a new werewolf on a full moon? Loud, full of strangers?” Even Jackson appreciated the force of Argent’s ice blue gaze as it flicked up to meet the Englishman’s furious one. “A werewolf that has killed no one in your territory and was here for a fresh start?”

“He’s got blue eyes,” Harrison answered. “Drew’s seen them. You sent a blue-eyed werewolf to my territory, Argent .” The name was laced with hatred. “Your father and sister would never --”

“Aunt Kate is dead,” Allison said firmly, stepping forward. “And my father didn’t send Jackson here. I did.” She held her head high. “I assumed that the hunters in this region weren’t codebreakers.” She flicked a disdainful look at Andrew. “Turns out I was wrong.”

“He’s got blue eyes .”

“Would you shut up about his eyes already?” Peter rolled his own eyes and, in a feat of control Jackson was sure came with thirty-plus years as a werewolf, half-way through the roll they began to burn their deep cobalt color. “Or we’re going to have bigger problems.”

Chris shook his head at the theatrics. “You’re going to leave him alone, Deighton. You and your son. An attack on him without a valid excuse and I will go to the Hunter Council about this. Am I clear?”

Deighton shot Jackson a hateful look before turning back to Chris and nodding. At that, Isaac stepped forward and, with a bright and triumphant grin, used his claws to cut through the rope holding the younger hunter to the chair. Andrew’s hands shot up to pull the tie out of his mouth.

“Get away from me, you animal.”

Harrison turned and, accompanied by his men, left the building. Andrew moved quickly to follow, sidestepping around the werewolves in his way. As he made it to the door, Stiles stepped up to block the doorway with a tight, serious expression. “Lay one finger on him and it won’t be the wolves that come after you.” Jackson watched something spark in Stiles’ eyes, the brown of his irises glowing ethereally for a moment before fading away. “Have a nice night.”

Well, that was new.

“Are you guys gonna tell me why you’re really here?” Jackson asked once they were sure the Deightons were gone. He crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “Lydia worried about me and you all figured out there was a hunter after me, sure, but did six of you really need to come to London just to protect me?”

“You’re pack,” Derek answered, his eyebrows drawn in confusion, but the look slipped from confusion into something harder to interpret. He stared at the floor, hands clasped together.

“You’re pack, and we’re a little short on that these days,” Stiles picked up the slack for Derek from his place near the door. “Erica and Boyd are still missing.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“I can’t lose any more betas,” Derek said finally, looking up. “Letting you leave was a mistake. Sending you here alone, without a pack, was a mistake. If you want to come home, Argent, Peter and I will negotiate it with your parents.”

Jackson was almost embarrassed by how quickly he agreed, but two days later he was seated beside the alpha on a plane back to Beacon Hills, and he couldn’t remember feeling so content in his life.

#Jackson Whittemore #jaw2020 #Teen Wolf fic #Derek Hale #my fic #teen wolf #jw #dh #halemore #kinda #my stuff #that gif was a *bitch*

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joemuggs · 3 years

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Pirate Material: Still Original

Saw some discussion of The Streets’s early work, and went to see if this article was still online - it’s not because the Vice brand partnership vertical (I’m sorry) that it was originally written for is gone. So here you go again!

I don't hold with the insidious theory that making brilliant art is a young man's game – or, in the words of Sickboy in Trainspotting, that “you have it, then you lose it”. It's a trope that's been with us since the beginning of rock'n'roll, dammit since the romantic poets, that idea that inspiration is intrinsically tied up with the energy of youth, that great works come like a bolt from the blue and artists are best off dying young1 rather than chasing round in ever-decreasing circles trying to relight your creative fire the rest of your sorry life. But it's clearly rubbish, a denial of craft and labour, put about by fantasists and advertisers and used as justification by those with a vested interest in keeping us emotionally immature and by the worst kind of poseurs for their ghastly Peter Pan antics.

Every so often, though, something I see or hear will make me think again – will make me have a flickering moment of belief in the essential white light of youthful creativity. And 'Original Pirate Material' is one of those things. I mean, have you heard it recently? Really heard it? Played it loud from the beginning, given it your full attention, let that utterly insane opening salvo of 'Turn the Page', 'Has it Come to This' and 'Let's Push Things Forward' work their magic on you? It's arm-hair raising stuff, it really is. The false hierarchies and dreary consensus of best-ever lists is another of those things I don't hold with, but yeah this really, really deserved to be on all those best-of-the-2000s lists, and I will gladly fight its corner against the Arctic Monkeys, Dizzee, Radiohead, Outkast, whatever you care to bring in fact.

Like almost all the best music, I didn't really get it at first. It was tinny-sounding and clattery, where I was used to dance music's oomph; I couldn't work out what Skinner's roaming accent was getting at as he slipped and slid across the rhythms, in and out of ordinary conversational cadence, lurching from sublime to ridiculous within single phrases. It was intriguing right enough, but it was impossible to shake the idea that it was all a bit contrived, an indie-weakened version of soundsystem/MC culture, or even more naggingly the idea that it was a wind-up, that this music was taking the piss out of all of us. Lines nicked from 'Gladiator' and talk about his Reeboks? Be serious. And then I had the epiphany.

The scene couldn't have been set better, really. I was out in Amsterdam for eight days on my first ever magazine feature assignment – to cover a conference on Amazon shamanic practice AND a High Times convention. I'd been hanging out with psychonauts, ravers, witch doctors2 and Dutch farmers, and experienced the best that ancient cultures and modern science had to offer; I was in a terrific mood as I was finally doing the job I'd always wanted to, and had been able to utter the immortal phrase “can I claim my ritual on expenses3, please?” on the phone to the Face magazine office. So when someone mentioned “that new band The Streets are playing the Melkweg” I was pretty much up for it.

The DJ beforehand, a Dutchman called Big Head, was playing what was generally known as “breakstep”, a kind of funky uncle to dubstep, and I liked it so much I bought his mix CD4. The Streets were very late coming on, but the crowd were raving and so was I, so who cared? When they did crash onto the stage, though, Skinner immediately and repeatedly asking the crowd if anyone had any cocaine, it was a glorious disruption of the groove, their sound spiky and awkward, and from the beginning I loved it. I don't remember a lot about the band except there was an ex-member of the Senseless Things5 on bass, and that Skinner and his co-vocalist spent a lot of the set pushing, shoving and trying to trip one another up.

And that's when it clicked into place: yes, this was a piss-take, but it was a deadly serious piss-take. This child-like 24-year-old was not just meandering between voices, themes and levels of seriousness, he was embodying every single one of them. He was a shaman too6. What was chaos and what was control became impossible to discern7. The only time I could remember seeing elemental clowning like this before on a stage was the Happy Mondays back in 1990, but I also recognised the spirit of so many loony rave urchins I'd been bamboozled and bantered at and had lighters stolen by over the years8, the never-ending babble of these Shakespearean monkeys, possessed by the endless power of the English language to spin out shaggy dog stories, to make jokes of the most serious matters and suddenly turn jokes deathly serious. The films that were projected as back stories to each of the tracks matched the quotidian urban subject matter of those songs – but they, like the lyrics and the music, revealed something so much more primal beneath. And still you could dance, laugh, drink and carouse to it.

Which is why, when I listen to 'Original Pirate Material' now, I don't hear “bloke poetry” or grittiness or mundanity or social realism any of those other things that are inevitably reeled out. I hear constant windows in to the most profound and abstracted of human instincts and experiences: vertigo, jealousy, transition, glory, loss, innocence and so much more. Just listen to the sudden swerves from domestic detail to dizzying generality in 'It's Too Late' or the affirmation and melancholy in 'Weak Become Heroes': these are about so, so much more than losing a girl or doing a pill9. They're about being human. Only years later did I start realising that Skinner was writing in a great English language tradition going a millennium back to Beowulf and taking in Sterne, Carroll, Lear, Pound, Spike Milligan, Ivor Cutler, Mark E Smith and Roots Manuva10, gibbering gobshites and bullshit artists, holy fools who could skip wildly into parts of our psyches where angels fear to tread.

He could never top this, could he? None of this is to dismiss Skinner's later work – he has on occasion made some glorious music and told some great tales since, and especially on 'Computers and Blues' when he turned full circle back to some of his early themes and freeform lyricism he showed he was tapped into the same wellspring – but 'Original Pirate Material' had it all. Everything afterwards, whether it's his narratives of modern life and celebrity, or his more philosophical turns, couldn't help but be self-conscious, trying to impose more structure onto what he had already expressed so perfectly in its rants, sketches, jokes and asides. This isn't about drugs, it's not about “authenticity”11, and it's not really about youth as such – others have tapped into this very British, very mongrel method of accessing the ways of the human mind from very different places and perspectives – but for Skinner it was all tied into a particular openness to everything that comes with being a hungry young man with his eyes (very) wide open.

1 See the infamous “27 Club”, much discussed when Amy Winehouse carked it, and so called because it's the number of times anyone who takes it seriously deserves to have their face walloped with a cricket bat.

2 To be precise, a shaman from the Shuar tribe of Ecuador who played the Jew's harp.

3 Yes, bloggers, these were the days when journalists got paid expenses. They were decadent times, the early 00s.

4 In fact it is sitting on my desk right now, and it still sounds good.

5 You think nonsense genre names like “Post Dubstep” or indeed “Breakstep” are silly? Back in the 90s, The Senseless things were lumped, along with Mega City 4 and Silverfish into a genre called Fraggle Rock. Seriously.

6 No Jew's harp though, just a microphone.

7 You want to know how giddy with the brilliance of it all I was feeling at that moment? My brain flashed up the image of Stockard Channing going “chaos... control... chaos... control... you like?” to Will Smith as Donald Sutherland spun a double-sided Kandinsky in 'Six Degress of Separation'. And what? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BjwiachXkjc

8 One routine about fake vs real Nike caps that managed to weave in and out of between-song patter for almost the entire set was such archetypal rave bollocks that you'd swear you'd heard it before from someone who was about to do you out of a tenner at some party on a hillside.

9 They're about those things too, though.

10 Peter Ackroyd's 'Albion: the Origins of the English Imagination' is the book you need on this topic, although admittedly he doesn't get right the way through to Roots Manuva.

11 There's no such thing.

#the streets #original pirate material #uk garage #breakstep #ukg #mike skinner #amsterdam #shamanism #dmt #ayahuasca #cannabis #visionaries #storytelling #poetry #rap #uk hip hop #melkweg

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siriuslyblack12 · 4 years

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chapter 5

As the following week passed, Remus and Sirius found themselves dancing around each other: walking on eggshells. They hadn’t really spoken since that fateful day in the science lab and neither wanted to push the other into anything. The tawny-haired boy doubted that his love was requited, without looking hard enough to see if that was true.

After confiding in the girls about what was said (with Sirius’s permission of course) the first thing they did was laugh confidently, unbelieving that he hadn’t just confessed his crush. Lily’s not any better, Remus thought. She knows that James likes her and she still won’t tell him. He’d covered his ears childishly to block out her out as Dorcas tried to pry his hands away.

“Remus Orpheus Lupin.” Marlene announced as they sat in Privet Fields, wading her fingers through the grass as they onlooked James and Sirius, racing each other to the top of a climbing frame, Peter and Mary cheering them on.

“That’s not my name and you know it.”

Her brows furrowed, “You are the most disastrous bisexual I have ever met, and I’m dating Dorcas.”

The girl in question punched Marlene lightly in the shoulder, pushing her short, brunette hair out of her face, smirking to herself. “You’re the one who was practically throwing yourself at me every excuse you got.”

“Was not.”

Dorcas scoffed. “So you don’t remember mysteriously tripping so that I could catch you every single day? Asking McGonagall to change the seating plan because Kingsley was ‘distracting your learning’?”

“He was! I’m not that hopeless.” Marlene harrumphed.

Dorcas’s smirk shifted to a genuine smile as she kissed her cheek. “I never said you were, babe.”

Remus also smiled, watching them adoringly. He’d seen them both make fools of themselves before they’d finally gotten together. They were the most deserving people of happiness, and happiness they had found together.

His attention was brought away by the harsh shouts of Mary, who’d gotten to the top of the frame before James and Sirius even after giving them a head start. “Fuck yeah!”

Sirius was tangled in the rope, limbs flailing. “There are children present, Miss MacDonald.”

“He’s right, we can’t have you corrupting our ickle Peter, can we?” James said from where he was helping to free Sirius.

Lily rolled her eyes from beside Remus, not quite committing to it, “I think he was corrupted the day he met those two. If anything, Mary saved him.”

Remus agreed, “We all were, Lils. My teachers used to love me, I’d just sit in the back of the class quietly and actually do work.” That wasn’t entirely true, but no one had to know. “I had a clean record, no detentions or anything.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing then, I couldn’t even imagine how boring that’d be.” Marlene started.

“How boring what would be?” Sirius was now untangled and stalking towards where Remus and the girls were situated on the field, wilting daisies surrounding them as their coats sat beneath them and the damp ground. His hair was tied up in a manbun, a few curls not quite reaching and framing his face messily, lighter from the summer sun.

Lily answered him, “Remus was telling us all about his shameful past as a teacher’s pet.”

He gave her a scandalized look as Sirius said, “Our Moony? He would never. I specifically remember him pulling a prank and blaming me for it, that’s actually how we met.”

The girls erupted, laughing and shouting praise, clasping him on the back. He saw a mother give them a pointed look from across the field, tearing her eyes away from two boys aimlessly kicking a football back and forth. It had been in year 7, one of the first days of high school, when he’d taken one look at Sirius Black and something inside of him just knew.

And he hadn’t made any progress since.

“Sirius, mate, how is that even possible?”

“It’s not that big of a deal, but I’m not exactly complaining.”

Sirius was stood in the middle of the pool changing rooms, 6:00 am, wearing nothing but a speedo and a swimming cap. Morning practices were always the worst, especially when he’d tossed and turned all night with no real sleep. In front of him was Frank Longbottom, teammate and friend, dressed in a similar state to him.

“Your time went down 5 seconds, for fucks sake! It’s incredible,” Frank gushed. “No one here could do that if they tried.”

“Bet Coach still makes me work harder, no amount of improvement in the world could make him like me.” Sirius and his coach had never gotten along, considering he had a great relationship with the Black family, and it often worked out against his favour.

Frank gave him a sympathetic nod, tightening his own cap before padding out of the room to find the rest of their team. Temper rising, Sirius messily shoved his bag into a locker and followed his friend.

I have more important things to worry about than a stupid coach.

But it would be nice to be liked.

A few moments later water flowed fast all around him, his mind only focused on the movements his limbs. Every trouble faded out of his head as he kicked, hands dragging almost lazily as it was second nature to him. This was where he could feel safe. This is where the highs and lows of life couldn’t reach him, his muscles hard at work. The wall was right in front of him, getting closer by the minute as he stretched out his arm to touch it and when he did he felt a surge of happiness shoot up his spine and through his blood.

He ripped his goggles off excitedly to realise he was the first one to finish warmup, eyes scanning the board to see the set they’d be doing. It looked difficult, and would definitely take a lot out of him, but that was exactly what he needed. No time for overthinking. So exhaustingly yet refreshingly, he swam and dived and turned and flipped until his head felt fuzzy and his legs ached.

Coach shouted at them to get out of the pool and line up against the wall, voice calmer than usual. It was almost startling, how Fabian and Gideon could fuck about and not get given push-ups, how Frank could lean over and whisper to Sirius without being caught.

“Bet he’s announcing the new Captain,” He explained. “He’d have to be stupid to consider anyone but you.”

Sirius laughed dryly, “Don’t get your hopes up, Frank. Alice has been kissing his arse for weeks, I barely stand a chance.”

“But you’re the best swimmer here!” Frank exclaimed.

“If you don’t shut up now I won’t stand a chance at all. I won’t even have legs to stand on.”

His eyes went quickly to the towering height and corkscrew hair of the man speaking, broad shoulders filling out the team t-shirt. His face was angry and intimidating, which seemed to help the team win often enough for him to continue. “I expect a better swim than that, especially coming off your wins last night. I didn’t come here to watch mediocre swimmers.”

There was a general hum of acknowledgement, “All of you have the potential for excellence, but I expect very few of you to come into your own.” He paced up and down the line menacingly. “Selecting a Captain did not come easy to me, considering that the job takes responsibility and maturity.”

Gideon smirked back over at him as if to say ‘can’t be you then’ as their Coach continued, “The person I have selected may not demonstrate these things 100 percent of the time, but gala after gala has proved their worth.” Sirius now shifted in anticipation. “So, without further ado, your Team Captain for the rest of this year is…”

I was unfocused last week.

I didn’t finish that set one time.

My fly needs work.

There’s no way he’ll make me Captain.

“…Sirius Black.”

Frank and some others jumped on him immediately and he had to wince as they shouted right down his ears. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing but was elated nonetheless as the rowdy praise evaporated into polite applause and surprisingly authentic smiles. It came to an end, not without a warning from their coach and swimmers filed out orderly. Before Sirius could follow he heard a stern voice call him back.

“I need to talk to you, Sirius.” His Coach said.

He turned back around and folded his arms complyingly, prompting the man to continue. “You did well last night, I was quite impressed actually.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” Sirius stumbled, taken aback by the sincerity.

“You’re not exactly the most easy to work with, nor the most responsible.” Don’t hold back with the compliments, Sirius thought internally. “However I know a good swimmer when I see one, and I’ve seen you with our junior swimmers, they love you.”

Sirius choked back a smile, “I love helping them, ‘s nice to give back, you know?”

A t-shirt was placed gently in his hands, the same one that his Coach was wearing but in a smaller size. The team logo shone from where it was embedded on the right and his title was sown neatly below it. He was brought out of his trance by a contrastingly harsh voice, “But one slip up and that t-shirt goes to Alice, mark my words.”

He couldn’t help but groan. “I understand.”

“You can leave now, Sirius.”

“Happily.”

Remus peered over his book for about the thousandth time that hour, watching James obnoxiously flirt with Lily as she rolled her eyes, contrasting the way her cheeks pinked. This interaction had been going on ever since they’d gotten to school just half an hour before, and it was becoming quite exhausting to watch. He took a look around the practically empty library before shifting his focus back to his book.

“Lily, you have no idea what you’re missing out on! I have a lot to offer.” James sang.

“And what would that be exactly?” She said sharply.

He hesitated for a moment, ruffling his hair to make it even more messy before saying, “A lot! I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Of course you don’t,” Lily sighed. “Better luck next time.”

James huffed, his lips forming a pout as he slumped back into his chair. Remus braved a look at the scene and so his eyes lifted to meet Lily’s fierce blue ones, pleading and disturbed. He wondered what could possibly be going on in her head when even though she liked him she still rejected his advances.

James perked up suddenly, “Sirius, mate, can you tell Lily about everything I have to offer? How much she’s missing out on?”

Sure enough, Sirius was walking gracefully into the quiet of the library, hair still damp and clinging to his ears from what must have been a morning practice. His hoodie was half unzipped, giving a peak of a tight graphic t-shirt beneath it. “I’m afraid there’s not much to say in that department, Prongs,” He laughed.

“Fuck off, I’ve got class.” This only made him laugh louder as James continued to sulk even when leaving the room. He really is a child.

Sirius sat himself in a chair right next to Remus, his hair almost brushing the other’s nape when he leaned over his shoulder to assess the book in his hands. With a slow turn of his head, the two met face to face with longing and shyness. Through the corner of his eye Remus could see Lily stand and call out to James, flicking out her phone, but he couldn’t bring himself out of the weighted moment.

Sirius leaned forward carefully, until he was close enough to reach up and run a hand through Remus’s curls.

“I really do like the haircut,” his voice was down to a low whisper. “Not that I didn’t like it before, I just… like it more now, I guess.”

Remus’s breathing hitched as the hand that was carding through his hair moved down to his cheek, his thumb brushing over his cheekbone lightly. Well, it’s now or never.

“Is there anything else you want to get off your chest? He asked, matching the other’s whisper.

“Yeah, there is actually.”

“Me too,” The moment he sounded the last syllable Sirius’s other hand came to rest on the other side of his face. It was only just occurring to him what was happening. Sirius’s hands are on my face. Sirius likes me. Oh shit.

“Can I kiss you now?” The boy in front of him questioned, way too casually from what it was, thumbs tracing circles on his flushed skin. Quickly and simply, he nodded until he felt soft lips on his own.

He thought fireworks must be going off somewhere outside because holy shit. Sirius’s lips were warm against his own, insistent yet gentle, and certainly better than he could have ever imagined. He realised he wasn’t really doing much so he wrapped his arms around the dark-haired boy’s waist and brought him as close as possible to his body. A thought ran through his mind like broken a train, that he could never be close enough to Sirius. Remus felt a tongue run over his bottom lip as the kiss deepened, both boys letting out sounds of contentment. He never wants to stop kissing this boy; He wants to die kissing this boy.

It did stop eventually, but not without both of them savouring it as best they could. As they parted, Remus kept his eyes closed for a few moments, desperately trying to hold onto the feeling. When he finally did open them, his eyelashes fluttered in a way that Sirius thought to be simply criminal, and so he leaned back in to kiss him once again. Remus tasted like chocolate and mint, a taste he tried to memorise in the next few minutes they spent with their lips almost molded together.

This time they only stopped as distant hollers got increasingly louder, hollers that they soon figured belonged to their friends. Dorcas was holding her phone up, obviously recording the new couple’s (couple? Is that what they were now?) reaction. Mary handed Lily some change, Remus noting that they must have been betting on this. Fucking Lily.

He buried his face in the crook of Sirius’s neck out of embarrassment, realising that maybe that was something he could do now. Maybe. This was only reassured by strong arms folding around his shoulders, hands bracketing his head to keep him there.

“As much as I appreciate the well wishes, we’d much prefer if you could kindly fuck off, thank you.” Sirius addressed the audience of smug faces around them, ending it with a kiss to Remus’s head.

“I knew you like him! I told you, didn’t I Lily, I told you!” James jumped up and down like an excited puppy, quite an unusual sight to behold.

“You like me? I hadn’t noticed.” Remus replied dryly, his voice dripping in his signature sarcasm as a surge of confidence swept through him.

“Moony, I think you’ll find that I do like you. A lot actually, and I would really like to kiss you again.” Sirius said in a much softer voice than he was used to hearing from the boy.

Remus smiled back at him, “I think that can be arranged,” Before leaning back up into a now familiar kiss.

“Prongs, you didn’t even know he was gay, how could you possibly know they liked each other?” Marlene shouted.

“Oh please, I’m not blind.”

For the first time in a while, Remus could say that he was truly happy.

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eyesfixedonthesun22 · 5 years

Text

Black Coffee: Part 2

Summary: Coffee aroma surrounds you as you prepare for a long day of studying in your favorite coffee shop. Your focus is shattered by a handsome stranger demanding a very large favor-pretend to be his girlfriend. Pairing: Bucky x Female Reader Warning(s): Cursing. Innocent fluff. Word Count: 1,466 Beta Reader: My darling honey bun, @supersoldiersruined-me Notes: I wasn’t planning on making this a series...and yet there are now 4 parts to the story in my drafts. ;)

Previously:

“You have to come tonight. If you don’t, Sam will never let me hear the end of it.”

“Hold the phone, dude. I was just trying to get my morning coffee, not get kidnapped by some strange man…” An attractive and pleasant smelling strange man.

“Let’s not exaggerate, doll. A rooftop barbeque with the Avengers is hardly kidnapping.”

Your eyes go wide. You know who the strange cute man is. How did you not see it before? If this was Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier, they had to have been-shit.

“I had coffee with Captain America and Falcon. Cool cool cool.”

Bucky smirks at your nonchalance. “Does that mean you’re willing go eat ribs with me tonight?”

“I guess I could use a study break.”

**************************************************************************************************

The large, cozy booth right in front of the picture windows at the coffeeshop Quay 4 had been occupied most of the day. You had set up all your vast array of study materials when a handsome stranger had interrupted your schoolwork. The materials had been hurriedly shuffled away when two of the man's friends had arrived expecting to meet his girlfriend.

You now knew the man was none other than Bucky Barnes. His two friends had been Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson of the Avengers. A handful of hours after the initial encounter, you were still trying to wrap your head around it. Literally. Bucky had even drawn you a diagram.

Your notebook, highlighters, pens, and sticky notes were all strewn about the table once more. You ached to put them back into the organized rows you’d had them in earlier before your morning had gotten turned upside down. Each time you went to grab one of the writing utensils, it seemed it was the one Bucky needed to snatch up to add to his diagrams and notes.

“So right around here I pulled Steve out of the river,” He circles violently on the makeshift timeline. “And then the whole civil war thing. But I don’t fully understand what happened there.” He uses a red pen to scribble multiple question marks a bit further down the line. “Then there was this stretch here in Wakanda and now I’m better.”

He looks up at you hopefully.

“So…after the river you were back with Hydra for a bit?”

“No no no. I went to Bucharest!” He taps the notebook at a point on the timeline where a purple circle is drawn. “Remember the nice plum merchant? But I definitely didn’t bomb T’Chaka in Vienna.”

“Is that purple circle supposed to remind me of the plums or the bombs?”

He tosses the highlighter across the table before burying his head in his hands. “I give up. This isn’t gonna work.”

“Cut me some slack, Bucky. I’m trying to fabricate an entire relationship in an afternoon and your life isn’t exactly the easiest to memorize.”

“I know. It’s fine.” He meets your eyes with his piercing blue ones. His brows are knitted tightly. “Just forget the whole thing. This was horribly stupid for me to ask you.” The hurt in his tone makes you wish you could take back the impatient rant before it had tumbled from your mouth.

He’s dejected. His shoulders slump as he finishes the dregs of his second black coffee. You’d like to give up. It’d be easier to call it a day and go home, leaving the strange and stunning man to figure out the dilemma without you. Something compels you to do otherwise. The man in front of you was one of the most feared assassins turned superhero. He didn’t look like one. He was soft, eager to please, and fiercely loyal to his friends. In the handful of hours spent together in the coffeeshop you’d already seen a glimpse of his complexity. Any annoyance you held prior fades into compassion.

“Please don’t take this the wrong way, Bucky,” you begin hesitantly. “While all your past is certainly important to who you are now, it maybe isn’t the most important for our relationship.”

“Meaning?”

“I got the gist of what you’ve been through. It’s a shitstorm.” He chuckles darkly. His laughter brings a smile to your lips. “Our meeting and relationship all started a month ago. That’s what you’d said to your friends. What’s current Bucky like?”

“First of all, doll. You don’t need to do air quotes every time you say our relationship. I’m in on the ruse, remember?” His posture seems lighter than before; less deflated. “You make a good point though.”

“I’ve been known to do that from time to time.” You say with a smirk.

**************************************************************************************************

As it turns out, you and Bucky have a lot of things in common. He’s incredibly jealous you’ve gone back to school for a graduate degree. He misses learning and spends a lot of free time at the public library. He’s currently teaching himself what he insists is introductory mechanical and electrical engineering. You were shocked you’d never seen him there and more surprised of the subject matter he’d chosen to read.

You both have dogs. Bucky’s is a large (after seeing some photos, you correct him to extra-large) fluffy mutt of some type. Her name is Ruby. She’s combat and therapy trained. You also have a mutt, but more medium sized. His name is Rufus. He is not combat trained and instead prefers to assault your face with kisses and storm the borders of your bed.

Bucky Barnes is a gentle soul. He may present a hard, sarcastic exterior but beneath all that he’s a giant teddy bear. He claims to be an excellent breakfast chef, will inhale a pint of butter pecan ice cream, and often has conversations with Banner about some of the new scientific developments of the modern age. He speaks fondly of his teammates. His “found family” as he calls them. When dusk starts to creep its way over the river, you’re excited to meet them all. You had already texted your next-door neighbor to make sure Rufus would get dinner and be walked. You swallow the last of your anxieties, pack your backpack, and make the walk with Bucky towards the tower.

**************************************************************************************************

“School during the summer? Sounds like torture to me.” You’re nibbling on some delectable ribs courtesy of Sam Wilson. You’ve settled into an enjoyable conversation with the grill master himself, Clint, Bruce, and Natasha. Bucky’s over by the snack bar with Steve and Tony.

“That’s grad school for you. This is the end of my first year. One year more and I’ll be done!”

“Would you ever do a doctorate?” Bruce asks.

“I think this program is more than enough for now.” Bucky had silently joined you at your side; Ruby trotting closely behind him.

“Don’t convince her to do more school. I hardly see her as it is.” He jokes convincingly and leans in to quickly peck your temple. A flush rises from your chest to cheeks. You two hadn’t discussed physical affection. How the hell had you forgotten such a crucial detail? It wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, the patch of skin where his lips had planted seemed to ache for more. All of you did. You clearly didn’t have your head on straight. Bucky, despite being a stunning physical specimen, was still a stranger. You thought he was hot. Of course. There was no way you could have actual feelings for a man that just this morning had plopped himself into your life.

The barbeque hadn’t been what you expected. Tony should have been the cocky asshole you’d seen on the news. Steve should have had a stick up his ass. Natasha should have been cold and Russian. Was Russian even a personality trait? Everything you thought was wrong.

The Avengers carefully crafted personas for television and the press were shrugged off here in their home. Steve cussed more than anyone on the team. Tony, while still a bit too sure of himself, was one of the most generous hosts you’d ever met. Natasha teased Peter like a mother. Sam had given you such a large hug when you entered you thought your ribs would never recover. Everyone was so loving. You may make it out of this date with the fake girlfriend gambit still intact.

Bucky hands you another plate of food. You were near full to bursting but the food was delicious. Sam had not only made multiple racks of smoked ribs but chopped brisket, pulled pork, and a handful of different homemade sauces. This plate had a pulled pork sandwich, potato salad, and baked beans.

“Pulled pork with no coleslaw, spicy not sweet sauce, and the German potato salad not regular.” The two of you had remembered to run over both of your preferences for the usual backyard barbeque spread. Even so, you were proud Bucky had remembered. You said a thank you and speared a potato.

“Anything for you, darlin’.” His palm trails down your back, squeezes once at your hips, and disappears. He’s returned to his conversation with Steve. Your skin was on fire. Sure, the sweltering July heat contributed, but this heat stirred from deep inside you. How the hell had this doofy idiot managed to weasel his way into your heart in such a quick period of time? The sickly-sweet pet names would usually have you nauseated and here you were nearly swooning.

Your revere is interrupted. The contents of your plate go flying. The previously conversing group scream and run in terror. Chaos has ensued. You hear the deep boof from Ruby before everything is muffled.

Darkness.

#bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #Bucky Barnes fanfic #Bucky Barnes x reader #fake dating #marvel #mcu #my writing #my fics #black coffee

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hmel78 · 4 years

Text

In conversation with Ray Thomas ...

Ray Thomas (29.12.1941 - 04.01.2018)

RAY THOMAS – Founding member of The Moody Blues, admits that success happened quickly for “a bunch of lads from the Midlands who could play a bit”. For Ray himself that musical journey began as a boy – “I always sang, being a Welshman” laughs Thomas “ in school choirs, and the Birmingham youth choir”. Progressing to a one string bass in a skiffle group in the 1950s, Thomas eventually bumped into fellow ‘Moodies’ founding member, Mike Pinder. The two headed to Germany where Ray admits that they were “ripped off”, and returned to Birmingham aged 21, determined to carry on as musicians.

Thomas recalls that what they found on their return to Birmingham, amongst the 250 or so bands on the circuit, was “complete disillusionment! – ‘Brum beat’ wasn’t taking off as the next ‘Mersey beat’ like people had anticipated, and bands were breaking up left right and centre”. Having heard Blues bands touring the circuits in Europe, and in the midst of the scene in Birmingham falling apart, Thomas and Pinder decided that Blues was the way forward. The only other Blues artist in Birmingham at that time was Spencer Davis. Together, Thomas and Pinder approached Denny Laine, who was living with Graeme Edge and his parents; landing Graeme the drum stool on Denny’s recommendation. Disappointingly for the band, John Lodge was not in a position to turn professional musician at the time, and in his place they recruited Clint Warwick. “We Bascially formed a Birmingham supergroup!” exclaims Thomas, “I don’t really think any of us expected the speed at which things took off for us after that”. And it’s true – after only a short spell playing in Clubs around Birmingham, ‘The Moody Blues’ were picked up by a management company, and moved down to London. With the current re-release, marking the 50th Anniversary, of their first album “The Magnificent Moodies” [Cherry Red Records] - I caught up with Ray Thomas for a chat about the beginnings of a Birmingham Blues band, who went on to be considered as global pioneers of progressive and orchestral rock ...

HR : “The Magnificent Moodies” is a very fitting title for a first album, considering the success you went on to have!

RT : We felt, at the time, that it was a bit pretentious to call it that, but management thought it was a good idea!

HR : Do you have any particular memories of recording the album?

RT : It’s been 50 years, and you tend to forget certain things, you know? But I do remember finding “Go Now” ...

We were a working band at the time, just moved down to London, and we’d play anywhere. One night “Manfred Man” pulled out of a show at The Marquee Club, and we stepped in for them, which lead to us being offered our own regular night there. It was a major breakthrough for us in London. The Marquee Club was the place to be seen, and people would queue around the block to see us perform heavy blues. We had talked about putting together an album of songs that we performed live, but Studio time was like gold dust in London at the time and we just couldn’t get in anywhere to start and lay anything down. A friend of the managers from America used to send over boxes of singles and acetates, and one day we came across “Go Now” by Bessie Banks and her brother. It hadn’t been released, but she had laid it down as a demo which was very much lighter and slower than our version, but we loved the song.

At the same time, the Marquee were building a studio at the back of the club. We asked if we could go into the studio and record it. However, the studio was still pretty much a building site, apart from the control room which was almost finished. So we went in there and set up amongst ladders and bags of cement, and recorded “Go Now”. We were the first band to record in Marquee Studios - we were lucky with that. We ended up doing about half the album there – and the other half was recorded at Olympic Studios.

HR : When “The Magnificant Moodies” was released, did you ever imagine what followed?

RT : It was a bit of a shock, because from forming the band to having a number one with “Go Now”, it was a relatively short space of time.

We were all elated , but didn’t realise what a big hit it would be. We were a bit naive really ... It was a massive hit across Europe, especially France. We spent a lot of time touring France, with a lot of the big blues artists. And proof of how naive we were :- We used to stay in Paris – on the West Bank, in the ‘artists’ area. We rented a studio there and recorded a song that Denny wrote called “Boulevard de la Madeline” – he’d seen the signpost on the street and romanticised about it to the point of writing the song, but the Parisian’s ended up in arms about it. When we played it on stage we would silence the audience! What we didn’t realise is that “Boulevard de la Madeline”, was bang in the middle of the red light district! We didn’t know!

We had success in a LOT of countries, incredibly. America loved us, but oddly enough - “Go Now” wasn’t a hit in the states. They released “Tuesday Afternoon” instead, and that did OK.

HR : “The Magnificent Moodies” was the only album that you recorded as that first 1964-66 line-up wasn’t it? Would you have been happy to carry on and record more music in that genre, or were you ready for a change? Did you embrace what came after Denny and Clint left?

RT : The thing was, Clint was married with a couple of kids, and his wife wasn’t happy about the time he was spending on the road , so he went back to Birmingham to run the family business.

Denny left more or less at the same time, to go solo – he fancied trying out songs with a string quartet, which he did, and had a certain amount of success.

I felt like The Moodies were worth the perseverance, despite things having slowed down a bit for us, and had no real issues about carrying on with a change of band members. I’d worked with John Lodge in a band called “Elright and the Rebels” – I was Elright of course – a right a bloody prat! John was actually our first choice of bass player when we formed ‘The Moody Blues’, but his dad wouldn’t let him do it until he’d finished his apprenticeship. Same as my Dad, but I was a year older than John. We all came from working class backgrounds where our parents knew that music was a dodgy game, and wanted us to have a trade to fall back on. In that 12 months whilst John finished his apprenticeship, we’d had a number 1 hit with “Go Now” – so when I called him up, he was down to London like a shot!

I found Justin quite by accident really. I was sitting in a club called the “The Scotch & St James”, which was the meeting place for bands back then, having a drink with Eric Burdon [The Animals] and he was in the throes of putting a new Animals together. I mentioned that I was looking for a new guitarist / singer. Eric had put an anonymous advert in the NME, “Top recording band needs guitarist”, and found who he wanted - so he gave me all of the applications he hadn’t yet gone through, and fate handed me Justin.

And that was the new Moodies.

HR : When you enlisted John and Justin, the band took a different direction musically ... RT : Musically we were moving towards using strings and stuff anyway - If you could have listened to what Mike and Denny were writing towards the end of that time, you could hear that influence creeping in. Justin aided that because he had a much softer voice ...

HR : “Days Of Future Passed” was the first album released with the new line-up; the rhythm and heavy blues, suddenly having been replaced by the orchestral opening of ‘The Day Begins’, and a very different vocal sound ... How was that received?

RT : To tell you the truth, it went down like a cup of cold sick with the record company! [laughs] Before we recorded it – Decca, who we were signed to, had installed this new ‘Deramic’ sound system – best described as Wall to Wall stereo, instead of that old ping pong stereo sound. They wanted us to do a demonstration disc for this sound system, to send out with their reps, and asked us if we would go in and play a couple of standard Rock and Roll numbers; to compliment that, they wanted Peter Knight (composer) to record a couple of classical numbers, and these would become the demo ... but it was going to be rubbish!

So, Tony Clarke - one of Deccas top producers - and Peter Knight put their necks on the line for us at that point. Again - We couldn’t get into the studio to record ‘Days Of Future Passed’, so we approached Tony and Peter with the idea. They liked it, and helped us to record the whole thing in about 8 days - we recorded “Legend Of The Mind” in the same session.

We never actually recorded with the Orchestra ourselves. The roadie would take over what we’d worked on each night, to Peter, and he would then write the bridge for the song. At the very end Peter recorded the orchestra, and then stitched it all together.

We were absolutely bowled over by it. We had achieved exactly what we wanted.

Every Tuesday, Decca would get all of their producers together with what they’d recorded during the week, and the powers that be would sit and listen and decide what they were going to do with it.

Tony played them “Days Of Future Passed” and they said “What the bloody Hell is that?” They didn’t know how to market it because it didn’t fit into any of their pigeon holes. Fortunately for us that afternoon, a chap called Walt Maguire who was over from America - the head of London Records [American Decca] - said “Christ! If you’re not going to release that here, give it to me, I’ll release it in America. It’s fantastic!”

So they decided to give it to him and agreed he could do that, and also decided to release it here. Nobody got into trouble, on our account, and that was the beginning of the new ‘Moodies’, with “Days Of Future Passed”!

We had ‘The Beatles’ come around to our house that night and played it to them ... and they loved it. We were good friends with them, especially George and John. They used to bring stuff for us to listen to too, because they trusted our judgements on it. There was none of that back biting in those days. Everyone was just busy being creative.

We supported them on their last English tour – with Denny and Clint. That was a hoot! I don’t think I dare say too much about what we used to get up to ... But you could see they [The Beatles] weren’t going to do anymore. They were writing some beautiful songs, but you couldn’t hear them. All you could hear was “Ladies and Gentlemen, The B ..” and then there’d just be screaming. The truth is, that they got totally cheesed off with it. They wanted people to listen to what they were doing. The fans were their own worst enemies really ...

HR : Talking of your connection to The Beatles - You were managed by Brian Epstein for a while. Surely that couldn’t have gone better could it?

RT : Well that’s debatable actually. Brian Epstein, was in love with a Bull Fighter in Spain and used to go over there a lot. He had a big organisation by the time he was managing us, but when he wasn’t there, nobody was making any decisions in his absence. We were reliant on all of these people to get us the work, and look after our affairs. They were our agent as well, and things had been quiet for us for a while when a promoter in France contacted Epstein’s team wanting us to tour over there again. So we agreed to it. We touched down at the airport in Paris to crowds of press folks, and screaming fans! We didn’t know that the record company had released “Bye Bye Bird”, and it had been a massive hit there. In short - This promoter had literally paid us peanuts for this tour, and we were a bit pissed off about it all. We went down to see Brian at his house as soon as we got back. There was a bit of a heated debate and I actually said to him “You’re the head of a crap organisation” – so he had a dramatic tantrum, threw us out of his house, and told us to meet him at the office in the morning. When we arrived there, he’d got together all his heads of department and in front of us asked them all about what had happened. He just got blank responses. At which point he stood up and said “You’re right, I am the head of a crap organisation”. Then he asked us what we wanted, and we asked for the contract back. So he sent his legal guy to get the contract, ripped it up into pieces in front of us; told us we were free, wished us luck, and we left the office ...

HR : Well his luck must have rubbed off on you, given the continued success you went on to have. You’ve got a fairly impressive discography there, as proof! RT : Yes I suppose I have really! I’ve lead one hell of a life!! [laughs] I was with ‘The Moody Blues’ for over 40 years, until my health prevented me from carrying on in 2003. It wasn’t a falling out or anything like that, I just had to pack it in. On Doctors orders! I’ve no regrets though. I was approaching 61 years old, had played everywhere I’d ever wanted to - except Sydney Opera house which I would have love to play!

Do you know? We were the first band to play Madison Square Gardens, in New York, twice in the same day, and the City Council put a block on that ever happening again because it brought the traffic in Manhattan to a standstill with everyone trying to get in and out! [laughs]. I went for a walk between shows that day, with our publicist, and thankfully nobody recognised me. We used to get mobbed wherever we went as a group, and to be honest that day I just fancied bit of fresh air and some roasted chestnuts from the street vendor! As we’re standing there, some folks walked up to us asking if we had any tickets – they thought we were ticket touts! It annoyed me even back then, people asking $400 dollars per ticket! So I walked up to one of these touts and asked him how much he wanted for two tickets, and he actually only wanted $200, so I handed it over, and carried on eating my bag of nuts! Next thing, a young couple came up asking for tickets and I said, “I have got some actually” – and gave them to them for free. Our publicist looked at my like I was crazy and said “What the bloody hell did you do that for?” and I said “because I’m going to get one hell of a kick out of knowing that when I walk out on stage later, that that young couple will look up and realise that I’m the bloke who gave them their tickets!”

HR : Do you have a favourite album amongst the 14 that you recorded with the ‘Moodies’?

RT : Well I don’t know really because I always say that they’re all our children. I have different memories of different albums and they all mean something. I love them all. You know, when you start with absolutely nothing and end up with something like “To Our Children’s Children’s Children” – it’s very rewarding. We had a lot of fun playing around with sounds over the years. They were happy days.

HR : And what are you up to these days, post ‘Moody Blues’?

RT : I’m still doing a lot of recording – I’ve never stopped recording really. Solo albums, collaborations and all of that.

Just before Christmas (2014) I was working with John Lodge again. His solo album comes out soon. It was just like old times ...

I’m hoping to record a new solo album this year too – gives me something to do amongst fishing trips! I like to keep busy ...

I’ve just recorded with an Italian ‘Prog’ band, who paid me in Pasta! [laughs] I’m not kidding ... about a month later this huge box of pasta turned up on the doorstep from Naples!

And then I went out to record with a Russian band - the son of a billionaire oil baron, who thought that I was God!

HR : Well You are regarded as a pioneer of progressive and orchestral rock – that’s verging on God-like!

[laughs] At the end of the day - I’m just a guy from Birmingham, with a bit of talent, who got lucky ...

#ray thomas #the moody blues #orchestral rock #the beatles #justin hayward #john lodge #moody blues #flute

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nuclearblastuk · 5 years

Text

The Bards’ Tales: A Blind Guardian Chronicle

Blind Guardian are one of those bands which you will not have gotten far into heavy metal without coming to know. You will have seen their records in shops. You will have seen their logo on the fronts of t-shirts, on the backs of hoodies, or proudly stitched into a denim vest. You might have heard their music played in rock and metal bars. You may even have caught a glimpse of them performing live from far across a festival-ground somewhere. To many the music and imagery of Blind Guardian epitomises the power metal style, and while it is fair to say that Rainbow and Iron Maiden are the real progenerators of the power metal aesthetic, Blind Guardian certainly codified many of the elements which you might hear in contemporary power metal titans and label-mates Battle Beast, Beast In Black, Rhapsody of Fire and Sabaton – high-register wails, fast and technical musicianship, symphonic layering and a conceptual approach to album arrangement and composition. To fans they need no introduction of course, but in celebration of their thirty-fifth year of making music and the remixed and remastered reissue series now available on Nuclear Blast, it seems only right to tell the chronicle of the Bards’ tales.

To see the full remixed and remastered reissue series: nuclearblast.com/blindguardian-reissues All Blind Guardian albums are also available on picture-disc vinyl and on CD.

Our story begins in Krefeld, Germany (1985) where four young bards – Hansi Kursch, Andre Olbrich, Marcus Dork and Thomen Stauch - have just completed their first work under the name of Lucifer’s Heritage. As though caught under the spell of a premonition, that work was entitled Symphonies of Doom, foreshadowing a grand masterwork to be completed some three decades later by Hansi and Andre - the Blind Guardian Twilight Orchestra’s Legacy of the Dark Lands. The opening song ‘Halloween’ would, in time, become ‘Wizard’s Crown’ and feature on the debut album Battalions of Fear. Marcus and Thomen would before long part company with Hansi and Andre - though Thomen would, of course, be soon to return.

A second demo under the name of Lucifer’s Heritage would be put to tape a year later in 1986 - also called Battalions of Fear - in which Hansi and Andre were joined by Christoph Theissen and Hans-Peter Frey. All the songs on the second demo, with the sole exception of Gandalf’s Rebirth (which is now available on the remixed and remastered version), would in due course find their way onto the Bard’s debut album in a rerecorded form. These demos are notable for their musical acuity, in spite of the limited production facilities available to them; listeners today will recognise them as falling within the bounds of a fairly straightforward speed/thrash metal style, quite unlike the elaborate arrangements the Bards are known for today - though there is some indication of things to come amongst several of the high-fantasy themed tracks. Before long, of course, Lucifer’s Heritage would be no more. The Bards, unwilling to succumb to the beckoning evil of Black Metal record sales, cast off their Satanic moniker and – under the inspiration of another wandering troupe of bards, Fate’s Warning, took up the name Blind Guardian instead.

Battalions of Fear (1988)

Battalions of Fear is the first album to bear the Blind Guardian name, and while for the most part it retains the speed and thrash metal techniques of the Lucifer’s Heritage demo tapes, it remains a distinctly Blind Guardian artefact - for it is in this second chapter of the Bard’s story that the Blind Guardian aesthetic is first established; the lustrous gold logo and hooded figures adorning the cover, the unapologetically grand narrative approach to storytelling through lyrics, and the utterly diverse selection of sources from which stories are told – from the enduring inspiration of Tolkein and Stephen King, to the passion of Christ and the Strategic Defense Initiative of the Reagan administration. Thomen Stauch returns to the fold on drums, while Marcus Siepen takes up rhythm guitar duties: this line-up would remain unchanged until 2006’s A Twist in the Myth, beyond what many would consider the ‘classic’ Blind Guardian period. There is much for latecomers to the Blind Guardian story to take from the Bard’s debut: it remains the purest expression of the speed and thrash metal influences which run at the core of the power metal sound which Blind Guardian were the first to forge, opens with fan-favourite and long running live-staple ‘Majesty’ and, for the adventurous, the current remixed and remastered version is appended with the Symphonies of Doom demo, featuring the Bard’s early tribute to Monty Python’s Life of Brian.

Follow The Blind (1989)

Just as Battalions of Fear now concludes with a direct reference to Monty Python, the 1989 sophomore album Follow the Blind opens with one: Inquisition samples the monk’s chant from Monty Python and The Holy Grail (“Pie Jesu Domine, dona eis requiem”) This sets the tone appropriately, for Follow The Blind sees the Bards shifting towards an even more heavily themed and thrash-orientated sound than on Battalions of Fear, apparently brought about by their exposure to U.S. thrash metal royalty, Testament, at the 1987 Dynamo festival. While the Bards’ consider this to be their weakest album as a result of the emphasis falling on musical intensity, fans who also share an affection for this heavier sound are unlikely to depart from Follow the Blind with any disappointment, especially from live staple Banish From Sanctuary and anthemic live sing-along Valhalla, whose studio-take features the stylings of Kai Hansen, of Helloween and Gamma Ray fame. Hansen would lend his talents to the next two Blind Guardian albums too, featuring on the songs ‘Lost in the Twilight Hall’, ‘The Last Candle’ and then‘The Quest for Tanelorn’. Curiously, at the time the Bards were reluctant to include Valhalla on the album, now a fixture and highlight of their live performances; much like Black Sabbath’s hit-single Paranoid, it was written towards the end of the studio session, and was only included to make up the running-time for the album. Revisiting Follow The Blind, dedicated Blind Guardian fans will find the Bard’s first references to fantasy writer Michael Moorcock (“Dammed for All Time” and “Fast To Madness” are based on characters from the Eternal Champion series) and another Stephen King inclusion (title-track “Follow The Blind” is based on the authors collaboration with Peter Straub, The Talisman.) However, listeners of all persuasions will find joy in the closing number, a medley of The Regent’s Barbara Ann and Little Richard’s Long Tall Sally; the very embodiment of the performer’s maxim, “Always leave them laughing.”

Tales from the Twilight World (1990)

While Battalions of Fear and Follow The Blind certainly laid the foundations for what would become Blind Guardian's signature sound, Tales From The Twilight Hall builds upon this groundwork substantially. Any pretentions the Bards might have had towards being just another speed/thrash metal band, with some classical and high-fantasy themes, are abandoned. This album is the start of what many would consider to be Blind Guardian’s golden-era, and with it perhaps even the genesis of the power metal style. The album’s cover art marks the beginning of a fruitful working relationship with Andreas Marschall, who would create the iconic cover art for the next three studio albums too. In order to record this seminal album, the Bards constructed their own studio to spend more time working on it, and this time was indeed well spent: we can hear them, for the first time, embracing singalong choruses and rich storytelling verses from track-to-track and incorporating acoustic guitars and synthesized instruments in order to reify their world-building efforts. This album is not yet, however, a full-blown concept album - such as we will see later in the Bard’s tale. Rather, the album's diverse themes treat of Moorcockian characters, Gandalf's death at the hands of the Balrog, and subsequent reincarnation, and - supposedly - E.T. ("Goodbye my friend, goodbye!") The lighter-brandishing melodies of fourth track, Lord of the Rings, stand testament to the maturity of song writing which generally permeates this album. Had the Bards ended their journey at Follow The Blind, one might speculate that Blind Guardian would have been no more than a footnote in the grand heavy metal story: Tales From The Twilight Hall places them at the genesis of true fist-pumping dragon-riding power metal.

Somewhere Far Beyond (1992)

Succeeding the success of Tales From The Twilight Hall is Somewhere Far Beyond, which largely reaffirms the originality and spirit of that breakthrough release. The cover art depicts a circle of time-travelling Bards - which would, in time, earn the band their nickname - assembled around a gyroscopic timepiece, establishing the tone perfectly for the distinctly modern stories which the Bard’s recount on this album: the science-fiction of the Replicant’s story in Blade Runner, a journey through the haunting, surreal world of Frost & Lynch’s Twin Peaks, in addition to the now familiar Tolkein, Moorcock and King inspirations. The album also features several bonus tracks: a cover of Queen’s Spread Your Wings, an escapist’s manifesto, Satan’s Trial By Fire, which tells the story of the Hiroshima and Nagasaki nuclear bomb attacks as well as an alternative mix of Theatre of Pain from the album itself. This album is particularly notable for its widespread and international critical acclaim, reaching #1 in the Japanese charts. This chart-topping success in the East would beget the Tokyo Tales live album the following year.

Imaginations from the Other Side (1995)

Imaginations From The Other Side reiterates on the quasi-conceptual character of the two previous studio releases and, perhaps, ups the ante somewhat: the titular opening piece abstracts from particular imaginative stories and instead tells a story about imagination itself, referencing the childhood escapist-fantasies of The Wizard of Oz, Peter Pan, Alice in Wonderland and Chronicles of Narnia. The album proceeds to tell the story of a child’s escape through a mirror to an Arthurian world of swords, dragons and crusades before being brought back to reality. This story is picked up again twenty years later on the Beyond the Red Mirror album, which tells the story of how the ‘other side’ has fallen into darkness, and the quest to find a way back. Imaginations From The Other Side is the last album to feature Hansi on bass, who would thenceforth give himself over entirely to vocal and lyric-writing duties. Two singles were released from the album, ‘A Past and Future Secret’ and ‘Bright Eyes’ which would secure the Bard’s a wider listenership, introducing the music of Blind Guardian to the heavy metal world at large.

Nightfall in Middle-Earth (1998)

Blind Guardian’s conceptual inclinations reach an apex on Nightfall in Middle-Earth; a thoroughbred concept album from start to finish, telling a portion of the tale of Tolkein’s Silmarillion – middle-earth’s descent into the dark-age, preceding the events of The Hobbit. It is worthwhile to mention that the album antedates the Peter Jackson film-series by three whole years – the Bards were not riding in the wake of the Tolkein-wave of the early 2000s, but instead had helped to create it. Indeed, in a 1999 interview, Hansi intimated that – owing largely to the praise which Nightfall in Middle-Earth had received within the wider Tolkein fandom – there was some serious deliberation as to whether Blind Guardian might be involved in soundtracking the films. While this project would not - alas! - come to pass, Nightfall in Middle-Earth perhaps stands alone as a heavy metal concept-album adaption of Tolkein worthy of attention. The instrumentation, and arrangement around a core of scene-setting spoken samples, make this Blind Guardian’s most ambitious venture yet – both musically and thematically. This is the first album to be recorded entirely at Blind Guardian’s own studio, aptly dubbed the Twilight Hall Studios. It would not be remiss to say that Nightfall in Middle-Earth is an essential, if not the essential, Blind Guardian album.

A Night at the Opera (2002)

After the heavy-themes and grand-concept stylings of the four previous studio albums, the Bards change tack in an altogether dramatic fashion on A Night At The Opera, so called after the Queen album of the same name, itself named after a Marx brothers production. Just as Blind Guardian fans were beginning to know what to expect from the Bards, it’s as though they said - in true Monty Python fashion - “ ... and now for something completely different.” The result is an album which arguably owes more to the British variety-rock act than to U.S. speed and thrash metal. On this album we hear Blind Guardian at their most musically expansive, and correspondingly, the album marks a return to their earlier approach in which they broach an assortment of stories and themes, most notably: two tracks dealing with Cassandra and the Trojan war, Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde, the Nazi propaganda machine and the philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche’s descent into a paranoid vision in which he is judged by saints. The galloping track ‘Battlefield’ has since earned the dubious honour of soundtracking the Heavy Metal edition of Adult Swim’s game Robot Unicorn Attack. The last of what most would consider to be the classic Blind Guardian period is marked by Live – a double-album comprised of recordings taken from their world tour, and the last before the departure of Thomen Stauch and their subsequent signing to Nuclear Blast Records.

Blind Guardian would go on to release three studio albums via Nuclear Blast, A Twist in the Myth (2006), At the Edge of Time (2010), Beyond the Red Mirror (2015) with their most ambitious project to date Blind Guardian’s Twilight Orchestra: Legacy of the Dark Lands due out on the 8th of November this year. The album is a direct sequel to - and not the soundtrack of - fantasy author Markus Heitz’s bestselling novel Die dunklen Lande (’The Dark Lands’) and will be a Blind Guardian first insofar as it features no electric guitars! You can pre-order the Nuclear Blast mail-order exclusive edition via this link: https://www.nuclearblast.de/en/products/tontraeger/vinyl/vinyl-boxset/blind-guardian-s-twilight-orchestra-legacy-of-the-dark-lands-mailorder-edition.html

- written by Jack Moar ([email protected])

#Blind Guardian #Nuclear Blast Records

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helshades · 5 years

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Tip of the Nose : You Be For Men, My Scent

Does perfume really have a gender? Not remotely likely, says the purist, and don’t come telling me that virility smells like those pine-shaped car deodorant thingies. Everybody knows that real men smell of lavender.

This article is actually a rewrite of my response to this post, which my dying aging computer ate right before I thought about saving three hours worth of work. I’m not entirely sure what burning frustration and bitter regret are supposed to smell like, but if someone wishes to bottle it, they may as well name it Parfum de Hel.

On a side note, one of the participants to the earlier conversation had me blocked for some previous reason—probably unrelated to perfume discourse—so I could not reblog the initial post; nor am I willing, out of politeness, to simply caption the discussion. Therefore, here is the original post, and following is the segment I will more precisely address:

@thatiswhy:

Also, maybe I hate the mainstream cotton candy uwu line for women but don’t want to smell like a fucking frat house trying to deo away the smell of vomit on the carpet. You know what I want to smell like? White musk, and leather, and cedar, and sandalwood, and old parchment, and vetiver, and various teas, and juniper, and citrus, and cypress, and cashmere wood, and maybe in the summer like orange blossom and jasmine or fresia. These notes, while mostly present in women’s perfumes, usually are combined with overbearing fruity or flowery tones that make it smell like an aging late 17th century courtesan’s drawers, or “oriental” scents that make the whole thing reek like a 1920’s opium den. (Seriously, I have walked into a perfume shop, asked to be shown something fresh, woodsy and clean, and had Gabrielle shoved under my nose, which smells like rosewater-flavoured Turkish delight.)

Let women smell of non-jellybean scents, you cowards.

That being said, I have found all but two scents for men (to date) that don’t smell absolutely abrasive. (I’m suspecting the cheap synthetic ambergris.) 99.9% of the stuff directed at men smell as if I had one of those scrubbing metal wire thingies shoved up my throat. So no, I don’t want to shop at the men’s section, I want to be given the opportunity to find a scent that doesn’t say 80’s cartoon for girls and/or I read palms for a living.

There are many things to address in this fertile, if angry, intervention, and like often I’m starting by the end and by making a remark that has little to do with the subject at hand: I don’t think, my darling Tatty, that the ‘abrasive’ harbinger of olfactory doom you perceive in most ‘masculine’ fragrances would be synthetic ambergris, cheap or other. All ambergris today is synthetic, to begin with—well, not all, but natural ambergris is so terrifyingly expensive that we’ve got to forgive perfumers for furnishing us with only an approximation. Ambergris is extremely rare a substance; think around €10,000 per kilogram, in the lower estimation. Back in 2016, a nearly two-kilo block found by a man who was walking his dog on a Lancashire beach sold for £50,000… People have become millionaires over ambergris, although most of the time one only finds small quantities of it at once.

Now this ambergris is a very curious substance, and so important as an article of commerce, that in 1791 a certain Nantucket-born Captain Coffin was examined at the bar of the English House of Commons on that subject. For at that time, and indeed until a comparatively late day, the precise origin of ambergris remained, like amber itself, a problem to the learned. Though the word ambergris is but the French compound for gray amber, yet the two substances are quite distinct. For amber, though at times found on the sea-coast, is also dug up in some far inland soils, whereas ambergris is never found except upon the sea. Besides, amber is a hard, transparent, brittle, odourless substance, used for mouth-pieces to pipes, for beads and ornaments; but ambergris is soft, waxy, and so highly fragrant and spicy, that it is largely used in perfumery, in pastiles, precious candles, hair-powders, and pomatum. The Turks use it in cooking, and also carry it to Mecca, for the same purpose that frankincense is carried to St. Peter’s in Rome. Some wine-merchants drop a few grains into claret, to flavour it.

Who would think, then, that such fine ladies and gentlemen should regale themselves with an essence found in the inglorious bowels of a sick whale! Yet so it is.

— Herman Melville, Moby Dick (1922), chapter XCII, ‘Ambergris’.

In perfumery, ambergris is distilled into an alcohol-based solution known as ‘pure amber’ which, when exposed to air and sunlight, can be separated into several derivatives, notably terpenes and steroids. In fact, ambergris is mainly constituted from ambrein (25–45%) and epicoprosterol (30–40%). Ambrein is progressively degraded by sea water, sunlight and air into several compounds which are chiefly responsible for its smell, notably ambroxide and ambrinol. Modern perfumery uses ambroxide as a substitute for natural ambergris, which is easily synthesised from… a type of sage plant! To be exact, from sclareol, a fragrant chemical compound found in clary sage (Salvia sclarea). Sclareol kills cancer (yes.), and also it smells really good, with a sweet, balsamic scent very reminiscent indeed of the most important notes of natural ambergris.

Ambergris is essentially mucus naturally produced by certain sperm whales (it is believed that less than 5% of the species produces ambergris, possibly the largest of them, which prey on bigger animals) to protect their intestinal tract from lesions caused by the passing of sharp objects, chiefly undigested squid beaks: eventually, the whale excretes this soft, blackish, pungent concretion which is going to drift for a long while before landing on the shore, where it’ll spend maybe years drying out and hardening under the sun and the air. The colour lightens to a golden grey, and the smell gradually sweetens to a salty musk with whiffs of honey, tobacco and leather—depending on the block, the notes will vary in proportions and in potency.

Almost needless to say, then, that the number of perfumes using authentic ambergris isn’t especially high. Conversely, synthetic ambroxide is a beloved template of the modern perfumer’s palette, one of the reasons being that it helps stabilise scents very well. So popular, in fact, that specialists speak of 40% of the perfumes created in the last thirty years using it! Ambroxide was first synthesised in 1950, by Max Stoll for Geneva-based Firmenich SA. That means that Aimé Guerlain had to use natural ambergris when he created the masterpiece Jicky in 1889 (the oldest perfume in the world to be sold without interruption since its creation), even though Jicky was amongst the very first perfumes to use synthetic ingredients! Most notably, Jicky pioneered a great use of several synthetic molecules, chief of which vanillin, the synthetic vanilla which had been discovered in 1874 by German chemist Ferdinand Tiemann. (The first perfume using synthetic ingredient was Houbigant’s Fougère Royale in 1882, using coumarin, one of the key molecules of tonka beans.)

According to the legend of Jicky, it was composed by Aimé Guerlain (one of founder Pierre Guerlain’s two sons, and the second generation’s in-house perfumer, whilst Gabriel was the manager; then came Gabriel’s own sons, master perfumer Jacques and manager Pierre. The last family perfumer was Jacques’ grandson Jean-Paul, who retired heirless in 1994, after which the company was sold to soulless, tentacular multinational LVMH, much to the dismay of Guerlain aficionados all over the world) ... in memory of a broken heart he suffered in his youth as he came back to France after studying in England without his lady love, the lovely ‘Jicky’. Though mostly advertised to a female clientèle, Jicky shocked many a respectable woman of the time by its daring use of sensual animal musks (ambergris, musk, castoreum, and the devilishly sexual civet) at the heart of its balms, spices and aromatic flowers, most especially lavender, luxurious iris, sultry sandalwood and hot leather... Until the 1910s, when women’s press began recommending it, Jicky was quite the sensation amongst... English dandies... and Marcel Proust, of course. (In 1925, for the International Exhibition of Decorative Arts, Jacques Guerlain presented a twist on Jicky, in which he had removed lavender and woods but added bergamot and, especially, a massive dose of ethylvanillin [three times more potent than vanillin!]: Shalimar was born.)

Men and women used to wear the very same perfumes. Until the 19th century, really, the market wasn’t segmented and there was no such thing as a masculine scent. When the European courts started bathing again and heady perfumes fell out of fashion to the benefit of lighter, tarter, fresher fragrances modelled after the famous Eau de Cologne (1708), women wore them too. The French Jean-Marie Farina who became with his own Eau de Cologne (1809) the official perfumer of the imperial court furnished Empress Joséphine as well. It was for Empress Eugénie, wife of Napoleon III, that Pierre Guerlain created his 1853 Eau de Cologne impériale in the famous ‘bee bottle’ (with his 69 bees symbolising the Empire), which earned Guerlain the envied title of ‘Patented Perfumer of Her Majesty’.

The real difference in perfume usage that occurred during the 19th century was actually a matter of social marking via the use of perfumes of varied qualities, complexities and prestige: if perfume remained an element of luxury, now the aristocracy wasn’t alone in this privilege; moreover, clothes weren’t so elaborate and expensive anymore, and social differences were expressed in subtler ways than before the Revolution. In Paris, House Guerlain furnished a more aristocratic clientèle, whereas the upper-middle class went to Roger & Gallet (successors to Jean-Marie Farina), Lubin or L.T. Piver; meanwhile, middle-middle and lower-middle classes patroned Bourjois and Gellé Frères. The lower-middle class also went to ‘perfume bazaars’ that proposed the same products on sale, plus low-quality products.

The first respectable (only) concurrent to French perfumery was actually England, thanks to the well-earned reputation of its barbers, who created their own fragrances, at once discreet, elegant yet tenacious. Those were scents designed to be applied on the skin as tonics in the first place, after an expert shave, and as such they were based on aromatics, chiefly lavender, made from the essence of the delicate English variety: in the beginning 20th century, Frenchmen often wore Yardley’s 1873 English Lavender, precisely, and it was something of an ubiquitous odour in cosmetic products more specifically destined to men, such as soaps and creams.

It is no wonder, then, that when Ernest Daltroff created the first ever perfume only for men, judiciously titled Pour un homme, in 1934, for House Caron which he co-founded with his brother Raoul in 1904, the fragrance was based on lavender, tenderly joined in matrimony with sweet vanilla and lying on a respectable, tranquil base of an ambre accord (vanilla, benzoin, labdanum, the ‘oriental’ assembly created by genius François Coty in 1908 Ambre antique, the family namer of ambrés perfumes) sandalwood and musk. Legend has it that Ernest, who loved lavender, added the vanilla to please Ms. Félicie Wanpouille, Caron’s artistic counsellor, whom Ernest might have loved even more than lavender. She had joined Caron in 1906 and their collaboration produced some of the most beautiful perfumes of the time, and most original: in 1919, they created the first ever leather-scented perfume, Tabac Blond, in 1927, Ernest made En avion as a gift to Félicie’s friend the star aviatrix Hélène Boucher... They also invented the ‘loose powder’ technique in make-up.

Félicie never left, but Ernest did, along with Raoul, when the Nazis invaded France: the Daltroff brothers were the sons of Jewish Russian immigrants, after all. Since Caron exported a lot of products and had opened a shop on New York’s 5th Avenue, Ernest emigrated to the United States in 1939. He never came back, and died in Canada in 1941. But Félicie Wanpouille stayed, in spite of the Occupation, keeping Caron afloat; 1941 was also the year she got the genius idea, since she couldn’t pay the heavy taxes the Nazis imposed on Jewish-made goods, to rename Pour un homme into Pour une femme, a name which it kept until the war ended. To this day, Caron remains one of the very houses to be devoted entirely to perfume—and free of any multinational’s influence, for that matter. (They’ve not, alas! remained free from the clutch of Reformulation, but that is a story for another day.)

There are two very good reasons why Tabac Blond bears this name. The first was purely commercial: in 1919, women were beginning to smoke, but they smoked almost exclusively blond tobacco from Virginia, which was considered too feminine for men. The second was that blond tobacco exhales honeyed mossy notes which the perfume evoked tantalisingly alongside the darker leather, the cooler iris and the warmer amber, meaning that it was the perfect perfume to cover the smell of tobacco smoke. Two years later, Molinard released the wonderful Habanita, in a small bottle shaped like a cigarette lighter, as an oil to dab the tip of your cigarette so as to make women’s clouds suaver (it was released as a proper perfume in 1924, and long advertised as ‘the most tenacious perfume in the world!’, not without reason).

It wouldn’t be illogical to consider that if there are masculine scent in the first place, it’s probably because femininity went through some drastic changes from the late 19th century onwards, especially as a consequence of the two World Wars. The daring, tobacco-covering orientals which the flappers favoured were a direct reaction to the dreamy flower ideal of the previous decades, notably the artificial immobility of the Victorian woman and her continental equivalents, which the Roaring Twenties more or less exorcised with a call to adventure and independence. Women wore more perfume and more daring perfumes; it was only expected that men would start wearing perfume, real perfume again.

Something really odd happened in the 1980s, but maybe that, too, was to be expected: a kind of paradigm shift occurred in perfumery, as the laundry detergent companies which had become extremely rich and powerful thanks to the combined power of advertisement and mass consumption bought most of the perfume houses, perfume started imitating cosmetics more than the reverse. Once upon a time, the cosmetics industry would copy, or try to, the scents most popular in perfumery, like L’Oréal’s Elnett hairspray famously reprised Chanel’s Nᵒ 5’ aldehyde overdose. Now, trendy perfume smells like shampoo or body spray.

It seems, nonetheless, like the ancestor of all terrible men’s perfumes that smell like body spray—the men’s version, the kind that makes you want to claw your own nose off—was the otherwise respectable Drakkar Noir by Guy Laroche (1982). So beloved by the public that every hygiene or cosmetic product targeted towards suddenly attempted to smell like it. Drakkar, however, was a good perfume, even if by today’s standards it would be perfectly unwearable for one’s entourage (in a vicinity of approximately 30 metres). ‘Powerhouse’ doesn’t begin to describe the type of scent that was popular in the late 80s and early 90s. And then they started using Calone™. Like, a lot of it. Have you ever smelled calone? Wait, you have. You’ve hated it. Calone in itself was a great chemical revolution: finally, the possibility for perfumers to imitate the very odour of water! Bring in the marine-like scents! Bring in the marine-like scents... I kinda want to throttle Calvin Klein for Escape (1991). Whatever you do, do not, I repeat, do not approach anything subtitled ‘Sport’. It’s worse. It’s way worse. (These days, calone is used to give a ‘watermelon’ aspect to everything, but chiefly summer flankers of denatured classic feminine perfumes. A hint: it smells like shampoo. Everything does.)

You can blame advertisement for convincing men to wear perfume on top of extremely pungent deodorant, too, but me personally, I strongly resent women who think classics are ‘too feminine’ and want to shop at the men’s section of their local perfume supermarket because it’s supposed to be ‘gender-defying’. It really isn’t. That’s not what equality is about, getting to smelling just as bad as the dudes, it isn’t. Even more importantly, perfume is not gendered; marketing is. Skin chemistry varies noticeably from person to person and our hormones do play some role in what we smell like, and therefore in what one perfume will smell like on different people, but apart from that, any sex-based olfactory discrimination is but a marketing ploy to exploit a segmented market so that the members of one household purchase and consume as many differentiated items as possible. Mainstream perfumery these days is mostly hopeless: the Thinking (wo)Man would be well inspired to turn to ‘niche’ perfumery, which isn’t always that confidential but presents the great advantage of being generally more creative and personal. Websites exist where people exchange ideas and samples and there is a whole alternative market for scents that allow people not to ruin themselves buying a full bottle of certain great fragrances. Overall, it is a nice way to get to wear something that feels like a personal choice.

#tip of the nose #aromaphilia #answers #thatiswhy #a work in progress as i've yet to address the lutens question #will do after sleep #but as it happens i must go to bed and get a few hours of sleep in #for tomorrow morning i'm bidding on several bottles of lutens perfume

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aion-rsa · 5 years

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The Riddler: DC Redefines Famous Batman Villain

https://ift.tt/2NTTThd

Does Year of the Villain mean a big change for Batman’s puzzling nemesis?

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Event comics usually come with a passel of one-off tie ins. Sometimes they’re very good. Sometimes they’re a way of giving someone a try out. Sometimes they’re a way of getting somebody work. These are all good things! But very rarely are they ever impactful on a character or the direction of a line. That may change this week, as Mark Russell and Scott Godlewski bring the Riddler into Year of the Villain with one of the most introspective superhero comics in a while, one that potentially foreshadows a big status quo change for one of Batman’s oldest villains.

The premise of the entire Year of the Villain arc has Apex Lex, a powered-up Lex Luthor, gone full evil again after years spent straddling the line of “dick” and “dick but helping the good guys”, running around the DC Universe offering power ups to the bad guys from every rogue’s gallery. In the pages of Justice League, he cranked up folks like Sinestro, while he’s been popping into other books for help like closing Gotham to the outside world and giving free rein to Bane (Batman), or a substantially boosted cold suit for Captain Cold (The Flash). In The Riddler: Year of the Villain, he gives Edward Nygma something completely different: perspective.

The story is framed by the Riddler’s friendship with King Tut. They start the issue kvetching about their persistent failures to top Batman in any meaningful way. They move to complaining that they haven’t been approached by Luthor yet, then head their separate ways. When Riddler gets home, he finds Luthor in his living room, and Luthor is pretty merciless in his criticism. The next morning, Tut calls Riddler to loop him in on his own profound realization: that they persistently fail because they never work with each other, and the true solution to both their problems is to do a half-baked death trap together.

The Luthor conversation is the crux of the issue. Luthor hands the Riddler nothing - no hyper-powered question staff, no bowler hat that will increase his cleverness tenfold, no giant question mark-shaped bomb planted under Wayne Manor. He just talks to him about Nygma’s own rigidity. The inflexibility of his mind, being lashed to his schtick, is what Luthor hints has been holding the Riddler back. And that inflexibility is preventing the Riddler from growing as a person. It’s kept him from accepting any changes since he was a child fixated on revenge against the bullies tormenting him. He ends the story by telling Nygma “Life is the process of saying goodbye to ourselves.” And the Riddler ends the issue by walking out on King Tut’s death trap.

read more: Justice League, Crisis, and the Future of the DC Universe

This is...not what I think anyone expected from a Year of the Villain book. The best you can usually hope for is a thoughtful one-off. Something akin to what Russell already gave us in Year of the Villain: Sinestro - a clever character piece that leaves the character exactly where he started when the issue picked up. Here, we get smart character work, but we also get more character development than the Riddler has had since...what, Paul Dini on Detective Comics back around Infinite Crisis? The Riddler is iconic, but the character owes almost everything to Frank Gorshin’s portrayal of him on the old television show. He hasn’t had more than a handful of deep dives or status quo shifts in an age.

A literal age - I can count four stories since the Bronze Age ended that really matter, that made a big impact on the Riddler as a character, and that’s a stretch a little bit - one of them came out on the cusp between the Bronze Age and the modern age of comics and could be argued into either category. But for almost every one of them, the impact on other characters was greater.

“Dark Night, Dark City” was Peter Milligan and Kieron Dwyer’s 1990 tale in Batman that had a suddenly very bloodthirsty Riddler pulling jobs around Gotham. It’s a really good Riddler story, but overshadowed by the fact that it’s also where Barbatos, the dark Bat-god who dominated Grant Morrison’s Batman mythology and later spawned Scott Snyder and Greg Capullo’s dark multiverse, first appeared. Snyder and Capullo also featured the Riddler as the main villain of "Zero Year," their big, 13 issue story about Batman’s first run in with Nygma. It is also the first time we really got to look at the way Batman managed his own mental health, and ends with him almost getting shock therapy. And the War of Jokes and Riddles was a long story that wrapped up Tom King’s first year on Batman by giving Kite Man a heartbreaking origin story and having the Joker (of all people) stop Bruce from killing the Riddler.

read more - Batman: Damned is a Trip Through the Darkest Corners of the DC Universe

The unifying force in all of these stories is that they’re not about Edward Nygma. They’re about someone else reacting to Nygma. And, in the case of “Zero Year” and the “War of Jokes and Riddles,” they both happen in the distant-by-comic-book-time past of Batman.

Really, the only story in the last 30 years worth of comics that really changed what we know about the Riddler was Paul Dini turning him into Sherlock Holmes in Detective Comics. In the wake of the wretched “Hush” and the not-great Infinite Crisis, Dini has Nygma go straight and begin selling his services as a consulting detective to Gotham’s wealthy. It takes the Riddler, keeps his main schtick (proving that he’s smarter and more clever than Batman), but points it in a different direction so we can see it work from another angle and take a little bit more out of it. Edward Nygma, Consulting Detective is the one time before this Year of the Villain issue that anybody really tried to twist the Riddler’s core concept around and peer at it from a different angle in modern comics. For perspective, in those same 30 years that it took to get four meaningful Riddler stories, Gotham City has been destroyed or quarantined from the rest of the country in four stories.

read more: The Secrets of DC's New Superman/Batman Team

Gorshin’s portrayal and the Riddler’s iconic look have been enough to keep him top tier in the popular consciousness, though. That a character can largely survive Jim Carrey and the Question Mark Guy who wanted to give us all free government money sullying his rep and look, respectively, is a testament to his fundamental appeal. The beauty of this issue is that even if it were a fluffy one-off with no potential wider impact, it would still be terrific. How many times do you get to open a comic and yell “OH MY GOD IS THAT KING TUT?” It’s not like he’s the Fluoronic Man or something. A King Tut sighting is a rare blessing, friends! Also, Tom King Batman aside, there’s been a subtle creep of a lighter Batman into comics lately that continues here. We’ve got a Batman happy to toss riddles back at Nygma along with his boots. Batman gets noticeably exasperated by King Tut’s incompetence and even almost jokes with the Gotham PD about how long it’ll take him to beat Tut. “Lair” Magazine is something I hope DC one day manages to publish, even if it’s just a joke. Profound character development aside, this issue was just really fun.

The brilliance of this issue is how it directly interacts with one of the fundamental tenets of modern superhero comics: the illusion of change. Stan Lee said the secret to Marvel storytelling (a theory that has come to apply to the superhero industry as a whole) is “the illusion of change.” The idea that comic book superheroes change over time is actually far truer than it seems on first glance, it’s just the under the radar ones, the characters keeping one arm out of limbo, who are capable of doing the most changing.

It’s possible that this issue is setting the Riddler up for a big change. It shows a willingness to strip Edward Nygma back to his bare, raw, core concept, and it’s one that makes him stand out as a Batman rogue. For years now, we’ve been watching Batman matched against the inexplicable chaos of the Joker, or match power and forethought with Bane, or have really bad anxiety attacks and bone Catwoman. What we’ve seen far less often is Batman be the best detective in comics. We get plenty of Batman pounding the shit out of a parade of bad guys. We don’t see him sussing out motive or means as much. All of the good writers have found a way to make that happen here and there over the last few years, but it always takes a backseat to saving hypertime by throwing three pearls at Rip Hunter. The Riddler gives them an excuse to lead with the detective work.

read more: The Batman Who Laughs and the Culmination of 10 Years of DC Stories

Maybe the Riddler has fallen far enough for this to stick. We know from tweets hoping for an ongoing that Russell thinks so. The Riddler: Year of the Villain works because it forces Nygma to think his way out of his rut and choose to do something different. Hopefully we get to see more of that change play out on the page.

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Feature Jim Dandy

Sep 11, 2019

DC Entertainment

Mark Russell

Batman

from Books https://ift.tt/2Lp4Kyc

#aion-rsa #Books

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