#imagine my joy at discovering he is doing solo work now

[reclusiveharry]

John 16:22: So with you: Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy. 23: In that day you will no longer ask me anything. Very truly I tell you, my Father will give you whatever you ask in my name.

During The Shock, Harry and Will encounter each other in the jungle. As they view the other’s memories, Harry and Will discover that the other knows John Atkinson. Harry desperately tries to see more of John through Will’s memories, but she only sees memories of William’s time raising a child on the beach. Frustrated, and raw with grief, Harry lashes out at the island itself, and the two go their separate ways. 

Water was the imperative. Will had gone an immeasurable amount of time without it (approximately 18 hours and counting). He kept going for his skin hoping it might have magically refilled - because that was how the island worked. It felt like he’d skirted around the edge of the same ruined old shelter half a dozen times (it had been 8 so far). Until he finally diverged off the same lucid path and took a fresh one. Pulled forwards by no sense of logic or reason. 

It was somewhere here that Willie heard a whistle through the trees. Snap of dried vines underfoot. “Ay’up…” He called, cautiously quiet to test the waters. “Don’t like being snuck up on…” 

—

Harry always took interest in the footsteps of solo travellers, an aching, battered hope weakly fluttering in her chest. It had been too long now, a long time ago she would have been able to know John's footsteps immediately, a familiar gait that had stepped next to her for decades. Now, now she couldn't be sure. 

She had a sinking feeling it wasn't John, the footsteps too big, heavy and unsteady. Quietly, Harry approached, until she saw the figure through the trees. Christ he was a giant, he looked a little delirious too, the way Sisco could get without sun. Harry gritted her teeth together, swallowing the disappointment, when she misstepped. Her foot cracked a dry branch and the man was agitated now, a warning note to his voice. Harry sighed, weighing up her options. She didn't like the thought of a big fellow like him chasing her down, convinced she meant ill. So, Harry swallowed her pride and turned back to the man, louder now as she approached so he wouldn't be spooked. 

"What do you eat, then?" Harry asked as she came into his view, warily eyeing him up. "Horses?" she supplied. 

—

Through the depths of the trees came a voice and like a lucid hallucination Willie thought this was all part of the jungle’s bit. He wasn’t expecting his newly committed follower to reveal themselves so thoroughly. It were a woman, she was slight but by no means titchy. Took Willie a second to process what she was asking, her question hanging between them for a solid minute as his slurried brain tried to catch up. Once she supplied a possible answer, Willie laughed, deep and rough around the edges. “Not wrong but ain’t no horses here…” It had been a long time and truth be told, no-one had wanted to eat the family horse.

“You’s…real?” Will asked tentatively, not sure if what he was seeing was a result of no sleep, and very little water. He had a feeling that she wasn’t a figment of his imagination because surely, surely, he’d be envisioning someone familiar. Not just a jungle hag, as pretty as she may have been underneath the smear of dirt. “You have any water?” This came out as a plead, his desperation overweighing his pride, not that Will had ever been overly concerned with that. 

—

Time would tell if Harry had made a poor decision in revealing herself to this stranger. At least for now he appeared rather harmless, disorientated maybe, but not a dangerous sort of desperate. He laughed loudly, which was jarring to Harry, so used to the relative quiet of the jungle, undisturbed by human sound. She hummed as he took her opening jest well, a rare occurrence indeed, when Harry’s gruff nature paired perfectly with a dry opener.

“Last time I checked,” Harry supplied to his question, wishing that she weren’t real in that moment, so she could slip away like a wisp through the trees. The sheer size of him made Harry uncomfortable. Harry, who wasn’t a small woman (though she was slight), disliked the imposing shadow of this stranger nonetheless. Harry sighed as he asked her for water, sucking on her teeth. She disliked the thought of hanging around him for any longer than necessary, but Harry still had a heart, as caked in bitterness and dirt as it was. She reached into the side of her pack, pulled her canteen from its pocket and threw it towards the man, not wanting to get any closer than necessary. “I want the canteen back,” she curtly told him, waiting for him to have his fill. 

“There are streams that way,” Harry said, inclining her head to the side. “You’ll only last three days without water.”

—

She was real. She also tossed him a flask of water which was more than Will could ever have asked for. He immediately scrambled in the dirt for it as she hadn’t come close enough to pass the canteen over. Whilst she informed him there was streams that way with an incline of her head, he nearly missed all of it furiously unscrewing the lid to chug down as much water as he could handle. It started dribbling down the side of his lips as he couldn’t drink fast enough, but still wanted more. “Heavens…” He spluttered, now leant over as if to catch his breath canteen still in hand along with the lid. “You’s a miracle ducky…” He’d thought it would be death’s calling for him, finally. Would explain why his ears had been ringing incessantly.

Not that Will would’ve minded, save for the fact the thirst was making him go doolally. His mind wasn’t instantaneously crystal clear, but he did feel better for it. Will inched ever so slightly closer as he screwed the lid back on again. “I don’t recognise you’s…” Will said, eyeing her up again with consideration now that the immediate issue of water was a none-issue. She hadn’t come from his throng of people so perhaps she was a part of this jungle – Will had met a few like that.

“I mean’s no harm ducky…just gotten myself lost…” In a sense, yes, he was hopelessly lost. But if Willie tried it was not impossible for him to scour the way out back though the blasted tunnels. Only he wasn’t sure what was left to go back to. “You’s really real, aren’t you…” He reiterated as if he had only finally heard her answer from minutes ago, Will approached and regrettably did as he always did. Clapped a large rough hand to her shoulder without asking first if it was even okay. “You’re a goo–-”

—

It was an ordinary, good day. Harry warmed herself by the fire, her fingers turning red and toasty from the heat. Mum was curled up in her arm chair, making a point of carding the wool, a task she was hoping Harry would help her with. Uncle was by his seat in the corner, wrapped up in his throws, listening to the music on the radio. Her cousin was out with friends, and John was still at school. Harry pulled a thick envelope from her jacket and slid into the side table, enjoying this little moment of peace; her mum, scratching wool back and forth the combs, uncle humming along to a swing tune. She opened the envelope, hungrily reading the notes and key points John had sent her, to help review the essay inside.

There was a loud crack from the fireplace, a series of short pops and a mean hiss. The noise barely registered with Harry at first, engrossed in the world of native grasses and nitrogen fixation. Behind her, across the room, came the smashing sound of porcelain, the screech of chair legs on the floor, the thud of someone moving. 

“Sniper!” cried uncle, and Harry whipped around in time to see him scrambling from his chair, pressing himself in the corner of the room and tipping the chair over himself. “Sargent!” he shouted, followed by wordless cries as he shook violently, hands slapping the sides of his head. 

“No, no David, you’re safe,” cooed Harry’s mum, her tools abandoned on the floor. 

“No!” uncle weeped, hyperventilating, his eyes the size of dinner plates, unglazed, unfocused. “They’re watching us…” 

Mum crept cautiously towards uncle. Harry slowly got up out of her chair, palms sweating, nervous as she watched uncle. She’d seen what happened if he got convinced that mum was an enemy soldier, how his eyes would flare from fear to anger, how he would try and launch himself at her, still stuck in the trenches. “Mum,” she warned, as uncle started to rock back and forth. 

“Harriet, the curtains.” Mum waved Harry off, and Harry gritted her teeth and walked across the room, closing the heavy curtains. Nothing scared uncle more in his episodes than the sight of the mountains, they reminded him of the endless, pointless climb of Gallipoli. 

Her uncle shouted again, wordless fear. “No! Get away!” Harry turned around in time to see uncle shove the chair at mum, mum teetering off balance as she wheeled back into the wall. 

Harry bit back at her instant to cry out for her mother. Any noise-

That was when the drummer launched into a solo, all syncopation and hard beats. He’d been so good lately, but now that he was in his episode uncle wordlessly let out a sobbing wail, striking his head with increasing force. 

“David, David darling, don’t do that,” Mum soothed, coming forward again, this time able to reach his hands, try and reduce the intensity of his strikes. “Harriet!” she hissed under her breath, casting a look at the radio. 

Harry didn’t need to be told twice. She turned the knob on the radio, switching it to the classical music station. Soft string music filled the air, Harry turned the speakers up so the music engulfed them, swallowed them up inside of it. 

Gradually, uncle’s strikes ceased. He sobbed softly, rocking back and forth. Mum crouched next to him, holding his head in her chest, patting his hair. “You’re home, David. You’re home, you made it home. You’re safe. You’re safe here. Sweet angel, you’re safe.” 

Harry silently stood on guard, watching them, making sure that the worst was over. Wondering, not for the first time, what her father would have been like, if he’d returned from the Great War. If he’d have been as broken by uncle, shell-shocked, a ghost of his former self. But it was pointless wondering, she’d never know. 

—

Either Harry was a poor shot or the Giant was more discombobulated than he looked. She watched, not without mild amusement as he scrambled amongst the leaf litter like a pig hunting truffles, and the desperate way he hungrily poured the water down his throat. She tensed as he clambered back up to his feet, but as he spoke she found herself transfixed in place, a combination of trying to parse his regional as fuck accent, and the soothing way he spoke to her, as if aware at any moment and was liable to spook and run off.

"Yeah, we haven't met before, eh?" Wouldn't meet again if Harry could get her way. She eyed up the canteen as he approached, bristling, ready to sink him into the earth below. But who the Giant did was clap her shoulder, his eyes glazing over once more. "Oi, just watch it mate," Harry snapped, shirking her shoulder away and shoving at the Giant, her palm pressing on his arm and then it was her turn-

—

There’s a notion of luck in it – that someone who knows what their doing happened to stumble across him. To simply slip under the dirty swirl of mud marbled bog waters was not how Willie anticipated his end to be. Swept up by a current that he had no hope of fighting against. Somehow, someone carved through the water, hauled him out and did their best to clear his lungs. Despite what should’ve been a proficiency, he’d been driven into a state of panic and swallowed large gulps of the stinking water. Willie startled back coughing, and hacking up the vile water.

By the time he pushed himself up onto his side he expected the mysterious force to be gone. But there he was met with a pair of glacial eyes that cut through the murk of the jungle. The bloke’s gaze wasn’t cold, he had a genial warmth that stretched from his lips, through to the very light creases in and around his eyes. Most especially as he said. “What a place to take a dip, eh?”

“Yes.” Will said, between coughs.

“How’d you end up in the water?”

That seemed like an easy enough question. “Dunno…”

The bloke smiled at that, and said something that sounded a little like ‘not to worry probably best…’ but Will couldn’t quite catch it, any of it. He tried to haul himself up but his hands just sunk straight down into the mud.

“Easy, take it easy, here have some of this.”

Will was handed a canteen which felt cruel given the state of his hands. He wiped the worst of the mud off onto his trousers and then grasped the canteen with both of his hands. Willie realised too late that he’d been chugging most of it down greedily. “Sorry,” he said, handing it back.

“Growing fella aren’t you?” The stranger said, with another smart smile. He was busying himself with reattaching his canteen to his belt loop whilst Will sat there gormlessly watching him.  “Got a name?” 

“John William Shaw but you’s can call me Willie.”

“You don’t say, John Atkinson.”

At this Will served him up a cracked tooth smile, pleased to find another name-mate, especially on the island. “HAH!” His short bark of a laugh echoed through the hooded trees. “We’s a pair.” 

“Couple of Johns.” 

“All my brothers were Johns.” Will held out a muddy hand which for a moment John merely stared at, and then without further hesitation he took, stooping down to take it. “Makes you one too.” 

“Well it’s my lucky day then!” 

There was that glib smile again, as if John was particularly satisfied with himself. 

“I don’t suppose you can get up yourself? If I try to haul you up I might end up in the drink myself!”

Will nodded as if to take the command in, and realising it didn’t have to be this way he used a slither of a guest through the dense trees to swing himself up. He cracked a voracious grin, slapping John about the shoulders, “we canna have that!” 

—

Harry frowned, nauseous as an image… a memory flitted through her mind. She could still taste the mud in her mouth and see… “John…” she muttered, her voice soft, yearning, confused. He… She’d seen him, alone, getting himself into trouble with that bleeding heart of his, helping… Harry looked to the Giant, face twitching as she tried to figure out what it meant. 

“What the hell was that?” she accused, wondering if it were an island trick. Something to fuck with them, an extension of the strange powers one could have over the elements. “That vision?” A memory, she hoped, a memory of John, alive after they’d parted ways, because Harry sure as hell hadn’t met the Giant before. “You met John?” she accused, storming up to the man, not caring that he towered over her, that she should probably not aggravate him. She was desperate for news on John. “When?” She prodded his chest-

—

Will felt grossly nauseous as he came too, there wasn’t words for it really, it felt as though he’d been torn asunder. Split by a life that he had not lived, that couldn’t be a hallucination and if it were it was so vivid, so real. The voice hadn’t been his, the uncle unfamiliar, and a mother, beautiful as she may have been, Will had only felt the heavy weight of fighting the inevitable. Being their stoic guardian. Then as he came to, thrust back into the jungle headfirst as if he’d never left, it became apparent that she was gone. The woman’s eyes were glassy. Had she been taken? Will felt a flurry of panic as he stepped back… “no…”

“Not again…”

But as quick as she’d gone, she came back and immediately she hurled accusations at him. “Jo–-” In his state he couldn’t recall who it was she was talking about. What in the ever loving– “vision?”

Except when she persisted, everything fell into place, it were the same glacial gaze, except her’s was hardened. Iced over like steel. “Yeah ducky…” He started, but she didn’t give him a chance to answer coming up like a storm, making her demands. “It were–-”

—

Willie knew it had been a good night, because he’d woken up by the dwindling fire downstairs and not on the floor upstairs, as was proper. It weren’t a good morning though. One of the little buggers had come down and given him a good walloping kick. “Ay’up!” He hollered, out of the corner of his sleep-hazed eyes he saw little Lou with her savage smile. She skipped out of sight no doubt to go tell ma that he was up to no good. Will hauled himself up to see that the shutters had already been opened, which could only mean one thing – -

“JOHN WILLIAM!”

The bellowing voice could only have belonged to one man, and one man only. Will prickled, readying himself for the fight ahead.

Out through the front door he found his pa stood with one leg up on the canal side wall. His pa gestured towards the boat that was wanting to come into the lock and tossed the ratchet windlass in Willie’s direction. Will ducked, instead of catching it, which was the appropriate response with slurried reactions. It hit the wall behind him, and richoteted off onto the floor. Will scrambled after it and with a huff, clambered over the lock gate. The bridge would’ve been more convenient, safer, but Will in his still slightly tipsy-stupor revelled in staring down the perilous drop into the rush of water. 

“OPEN THAT DAMN GATE WILLIAM.”

“Right you are pa…” He muttered under this breath, and hauled himself over the black beam onto the other side. Will jumped down, surprised to see that it were Danny on duty today, he weren’t hardly big enough to push his half of the gate open by himself. Will jogged up to the top gate, the one that needed opening. “WHERE’S JUNIOR?” He called, heaving his half of the gate step by step, it was easier to push open backwards when he didn’t feel so good. 

Will expected some retort back, but their pa had gone around the lock to make himself busy chatting to the bloke that wanted passage through. He grunted, the gate had finally heaved open – it was always harder like this, when the lock waters were high. Little Danny was evidently struggling. “Ay’up Danny, you’s wait there!”

He darted down to the bottom gate, that was still shut and hopped across it. “Why’s you on today? Where’s junior gone?” 

Danny looked up at him properly meek and timid, just shrugged, and then tugged on Will’s sleeve. “Right-o let’s get this open then, eh?” Will asked him, the slurry of his headache still ever prevalent but it’d be worse if he didn’t do this. He slung the ratchet under his arm again and working with Little Danny, so the little’n didn’t feel too useless, they pushed the gate open together. “You’s stay here, yeah? I’ll be back to help you’s shut it.” Will promised, then made his way back around ago.

It was easy enough to take a break, Will liked this part well enough, even if it was boring after having seen it for the hundredth time. This morning’s boat wasn’t hauled along by a majestic horse, but rather two scrawny looking donkeys that made an awful lot of noise. Which pierced right through Will’s ears. “Bloody hell…” He muttered, the lock key once again tucked under his arm, lest he want to be struck for leaving it on the ground. As he made to push the gate shut. His pa, surprising them all, had come around and was now assisting little Danny himself. So there weren’t no need for Will to yo-yo.

Instead he could clamour to moor up the boat, keep her nice and steady, all whilst avoiding them stupid donkeys. Then finally he slung the windlass into the mechanism to wind open the paddle on his side, the affect was immediate. The water was always an ever present force, but now it was rushing out hard. Will had slung the ratched back under his arm, so it couldn’t be taken by any of them no-gooders. 

Will crouched down, waiting for the water to get low enough that the whole process could be stopped, the gate opened. The boatsmen sent on their merry way. He glanced down the other side of the lock to note that the boat weren’t from one of the colliers. It weren’t just boatmen either.

“Ay’up mi’duck…” Will called, with a pleasant smile despite the steady thrum of his head.

“Morning William!”

“How you’s know that?”

The young woman just laughed at him, the boat was rapidly sinking lower now, too low to hold up a conversation without shouting. “I hope we meet again.”

Too right he did.

—

Harry felt the world tilt sideways, the disorientating rush of being confronted with another vision. John wasn’t in this one, and his absence put her in a foul mood, let along the lingering throbbing in her temples, a hangover remembered and carried through the centuries. Must have been some romping night. She wondered whether it were the hangover, or the accents that made the specifics of what they talked about so hard to follow. She hadn’t seen canals like that before, the backbreaking mechanisms involved in moving cargo up and down terrain. English, she guessed by the accent. But why the hell was she getting a vision of hauling boats down a canal? 

Harry looked down at her finger, pressed dead in the centre of the man’s (John William - went by William?) chest. The likely trigger of the memories. Another island trick? She stepped back a few steps, appraising William with wary eyes. “Right, no touching,” she ordered, worried that he had seen some memory of hers in exchange. Harry’s eyes narrowed, a certain possessiveness to her thoughts, private as they were. 

“Did you see something?” she snapped, distracted by the discomfort that thought brought her. She barely talked to other people, let alone let them have intimate glimpses of her thoughts and memories. The notion made her shudder. “Before, you touched me.” 

—

Willie fought through the lucidity, to seek the truth in what he had seen, if this was that monster’s doing it was a cruel and unique trick indeed. “You’s…I think it were you’s…were with your ma? Some bloke that were frightened…ducky ain’t seen nothin’ like it, why were he like that?” As Will recounted aloud what he’d seen it became evident she was from another time altogether. “What were tha’ machine?” It played some of the finest music he’d ever heard. A far cry from the music boxes he’d unwittingly been fascinated by as a little lad. The ones that…little Lou… he hadn’t thought of her in an age. She’d begged, and begged, and begged, for a music box. Not knowing it was more than any of them could have ever afforded.

“It were a trick…trick of the island. You’s one of them…” He waved frantically, wheeling about like a nervous horse. “Your eyes!” Will had seen this before! Save it hadn’t come with visions, with glimpses of a life that didn’t belong to him, and that in itself was a horror. “You’s looked them one of them!” Will was so taken with this, that he’d forgotten the previously stated rule and rushed forwards to grab her by the shoulders. “Yo—”

—

Harry didn't have long to wonder whether William had seen anything. He offered the details freely, speaking of her mum, a frightened man (Uncle David), and a… machine. How the hell was she supposed to know the kind of machine he was talking about. "No more touching," Harry grumbled, not keen to have him rifling through more of her memories. "Were my uncle, he got shell shock after the Great War," Harry briefly explained, only because she wanted to lure William into explaining his own memories.

"I saw you with a man in here, John Atkinson," Harry began, trying to direct William's focus. "When-" William cut her off, a panicked air about him. Ironically, not dissimilar to Uncle David's fits, a mild one at that. "Eh?" Harry asked, a sharp, upwards intonation. What the hell was he on about now? "If anyone's a trick it's you, eh? What are you in the jungle for anyway, stumbling around like an idiot?" He was like a spooked horse, the whites of his eyes rolling as he moved, his arms flying about him and coming to land on Harry's shoulders-

—

"Harry! How much further?" John called up after Harry, slower on the incline up the steep, rough hill. To their left the river roared, frothy and white, tumbling down rocks. If it were any steeper it would be a waterfall. 

"Come on John," Harry called down to him, pausing her ascent to relish this moment. The built anticipation, the delight of outpacing her little brother. Harry grinned as he looked up at her, weary from the climb, dying to know what it was she had found. "Not far to go, don't tell me you're out of shape."

"You know, Harry, some of us have to actually… climb up this hill," John lectured her, taking his time finding his footing, pulling himself up the next bit of the hill. Harry, in comparison, had been making herself footholds on the way up, a new skill she'd discovered with these island powers. Attunements, they called them on the beach. 

"The river's right there," Harry told John, motioning to it. 

John gave Harry a weary look. She knew he knew what was coming. 

"If you're tired go make like a salmon, eh?" Harry made the joke anyway, moving her hand in a fish-like wave. "I'll look out for bears." 

"You're hilarious, Harry," John called out, finding her old footholds and resigning himself to using them. 

"It's not far," Harry parried back, rushing on ahead to make sure it was just as she remembered. Harry crested the hill, waiting for John to join her before she swung to the left, towards the water. "It might be too loud to camp, but…" Harry wove around a thick tree trunk, and then turned around to walk backwards into the clearing, triumphant smirk on her face. "Worth the climb?"

The exhaustion vanished from John's face as he stepped into the alcove, a flat bit of earth jutted up against a clifface, water spraying from the nearby river. Pretty enough, and then his eyes turned to the cliff - yes, thought Harry - and he saw them. A wall of orchids, clinging to the cliff, growing in every crevice they could hold onto. John's face softened with pure delight, he slung his pack off his shoulders and walked to the cliff, almost reverent with his expression as he touched the first flower, tenderly, like a lover. "This is…" John stepped back, and the came the second revelation, that every orchid was unique, a melting pot of flowers, all cross breeding with one another. Hybrids, he'd been obsessed with hybridisation and cross breeding, the terminology burned into Harry's brain after proof reading every chapter of his thesis. 

"Ah, but if the climb's too much for you we can go back down," Harry teased, slipping her pack off and rolling out her shoulders. 

John turned to her, and Harry was startled at the pure emotion on his face, his eyes welling with tears. All at once Harry's smugness vanished, replaced with concern. Had she misread this? Fucked up completely. "Harry…" he said, nervously laughing as he wiped his eyes furtively. "Thank you." Relief flooded Harry. He wasn't upset, but deeply moved. "This is…" John looked about them, and then before Harry could squawk and push him away John was on her, squeezing her for dear life. 

"Oi…" Harry grumbled, even though she loved it. 

—

“You’s know John…” William breathed as he came to. He couldn’t wrap his head around how but the mere possibility that this woman might know John, could possibly know if he’s even alive. Willie hadn’t seen him in what felt like an eon. He gripped her harder, unintentionally without realising his own strength, the whites of his eyes calmed as he came to focus on her. The glaringly obvious clues that lay before him unseen to him. Willie was practically shaking her now as the wick of his calmness burnt right down to the quick. “Where is he? He alive? Okay?” 

—

William’s eyes had gone unfocused, distant for a brief moment and quiet. Harry liked that he went quiet. But all at once he came back, but he was agitated. At least he was focused on John. “Yeah, John, my brother.” Harry ground out through her teeth, grimacing as William’s hands dug into her shoulders. “Oi, watch it!” Harry snarled, resisting the urge to shove him back with a push to his chest. Instead she twisted her foot, and the ground beneath them rippled backwards, carrying William with it. “You saw him in the jungle, when did you see him?” Harry asked, determined to get her answers first. 

—

Willie had not anticipated that the ground would shift underneath him to pull him back, and away from her. He righted himself with a cushion of air to stop him from toppling over. My brother. He stared at her, the blatantly obvious connection flared right there before his eyes with a few simple words. He ought to recognise those eyes in the dark of the jungle canopy, as luminous as they were. Willie raked a hand through his overgrown bedraggled hair, suspiciously quiet as he took it all in. “Ain’t seen him in a good while…” Will had lost count how long it had been, he’d just clung to hope thinking he might see him again, his old friend. “You’s don’t know where he is?”

—

It seemed to get through William’s skull that Harry was John’s brother. She panted, hungry for what he might say. He looked like he was putting it together, thinking about when he’d seen John- Harry’s hope withered as William gave her a non-answer, mouth setting into a firm line. “A good while?” Harry repeated, shaking her arms by her side and turning away from him to pace in a circle, getting out some of her energy. She’d been… excited, damn it, thrilled at the thought of piecing together John’s movements. And now? Now she had the gentle giant here, who’s brain didn’t match the rest of him. “We… We split ways… decades back,” she mumbled, flexing and clenching her fists. 

“Did you… spend time with him?” John was like that. He took in strays. 

—

Willie watched the woman – Harriet…Harry – pace as if she were circling something. He stretched his neck to see if he could see what it was but didn’t dare get any closer. Lest he wanted the sharp end of her earthly-powers again. “Decades…” Willie parroted back, as he tried to count back the years since he’d last seen Johnny boy. “It were a long time ago, ducky.” He emphasised, as if that clarified any further what a good while meant. “He saved my life once from a fish! THIS BIG!” Willie used his hands to give her an illusion of just how big he meant. “Used’t come out here often and found him ‘alf dozen times. Well! He found me! Hah!” He gave one short, brief, little laugh, that sounded closer to pained than it did humoured. 

—

Harry was quickly losing her patience with William, not that she had much patience to begin with. He was unspecific, and by the time he emphasised the size of the fish John had saved him from, Harry had decided that she could trust nothing that William said. “Right,” Harry muttered, pushing her hair back from her face, giving William a sharp glare. She couldn’t trust anything he said, but… “It was that big?” Harry goaded William on, stepping closer to him, bridging the distance she’d put between them. “Tell me more,” Harry said through gritted teeth, hoping that him talking about it would bring it to his mind, as she reached out and touched the back of his hand-

—

Willie watched on as a spectator as Harry all of a sudden gained interest in the fish, and by extensive John. He opened his mouth to tell her more, even if he couldn’t recall the specifics, details never really mattered anyway. “It were—” But her eyes had glassed over just as they had before, he amassed as much when he glanced down to see her hand barely touching his own. Bugger…

—

“Tarnation, it's hot!” Willie shouted. 

“Stop….”

Though he couldn’t understand the rest of what she said, he could get the gist of it. “Right you are Mrs. Maja!!” Will returned to the task at hand - hauling great big hunks of rock into the wagon so they could bring them back to camp. The little fire lad wasn’t much use as he were running amok through them flailing his arms in the air stirring up a baking hot storm. Willie’s laughter echoed through the quarry as he held out his arms in a deep squat to catch him. “You’s stop that now or your ma’ is gonna tell me right off!” 

“Whatever gramps.” 

—

Will’s humour has momentarily dried up, as he stared down at the young woman - Harriet. It looked like she’d returned, or at least she wasn’t caught up in a hallucinogenic daydream no more. “You’s see something?” 

—

Harry bit back the bitter disappointment that had risen to the back of her throat. Instead a somewhat domestic memory of William with a little cockie biting his ankles, a bone-weary tiredness clinging to her skin. Harry frowned and ignored William as he questioned her, and touched his hand again-

—

Will was sat at the very edge of the cliff with his legs swung over the edge of it. The little fire lad, who wasn’t so little anymore, was humming along next to him. Between them, ever the bad influence, Willie was smoking his pipe. “You’s too little!” Willie had declared with a shark-toothed smile as the little lad lit it for him and then tried to steal a puff.

‘C’mon gramps I’m old enough now…’ The rest of the day passed in a blur as they prepared to venture deeper in to the jungle.

—

Where the fuck was John? He’d seen John. Harry touched William’s arm-

—

He were sat at the table polishing up a set of bowls he’d made for one of the new’uns that’d just washed up. A rare sight! Someone new on their shores. So Willie wanted to do something special to greet ‘em. One of the lads, as they inevitably did, came bounding head-first into the house shouting and waving his arms about as if the world were on fire.

“Ay’up! What in tarnation?”

‘WILLIE! WILLIE! You’ll never believe what I found on the beach.’

Proud as ever the little lad held up what looked to be a box. A small box. That was shiny all over and with a thin dangling black string hanging out one end of it. The string lead to a strange pair of neon orange poofs. Willie set the bowl down curious, but no less confused as the lad declared it was ‘a cassette player.’ Clicking the thing open and shut to show Will what was inside. Another smaller box.

‘Stay right there.’ So Willie did. Sat with his arms resting on his thighs as the little lad put the orange things around his ears. All of the sudden the outside world was muffled – he didn’t like that one bit. He opened his mouth to protest but little fire lad seemed to sense that.

‘You’ll love it gramps I promise just wait!’ He fiddled with the little shiny box and for a second it seemed like nothing was going to happen, all Willie could hear was a static hiss. But out of nowhere a melody started. He jumped up and whalloped his head against the roof in the process setting off of a domino effect of hysterics, as the little fire lad stumbled back.

“Ay’up! Little bugger!” He said, rubbing at his forehead but the erratic drums had smoothed over. And suddenly there was a voice! A voice! In his ears! HAIL! The little lad had stuffed the box into his hands and like that Willie was tapping his feet to the beat. To little lad’s increasing laughter, his dancing grew more erratic. Fuelled by a little air-powered assistance Will kicked and skipped backwards through the house, narrowly avoiding yesterday’s wood project. 

“Come and get your love!”

He surged. His laughter joining in tandem with the little fire lad’s as Willie grabbed hold of his hands and forced him to join in on the delirium. 

—

John. He’d met John. He was moving back but Harry was quicker, touching his hand-

—

The island had become a frigid landscape. Willie was huddled beside the fire with the trio of lads. They were bickering amongst themselves about who was physically the strongest and who could take on one of them funny-looking cows. Will snorted, fixing them all a cup of something hot each to keep them warm. It was a miracle that just a month prior they’d gone around fixing chimneys in all the houses. The worst off was little fire lad. Who was closest to the fire and covered in layers, on layers, but still shivered. “You’s nesh?” He teased, elbowing the little lad as Will passed him a cup of hot water. There was a spoonful of honey in each cup. Whatever had been left from their mother’s stock.

‘NO!’ He retorted back, teeth chattering to really drive home the truth.

“No you’s ain’t.” Willie said, holding the little lad’s head in his hands. “You’s a good bricky lad like your ma.” Before either of them could get too fixated on that Will turned to feed more air into the fire. 

—

“LET ME SEE JOHN!” Harry bellowed, panting hard as she fought off the wave of nausea that came with memories that weren’t her own. “FUCK!” she swore, a blissful, wonderful swear, that didn’t help the ache in her chest. She wanted to see John again, his blue eyes staring at her with such concern, his easy banter. She missed him, with every atom, with every cell. Her every organ missed his steady presence next to her. Without him she was the ocean without the moon, listless and still. “Show me John,” Harry begged, her voice breaking as her eyes turned red from the tears that burned there. “Please…”  

—

It became apparent that it weren’t no accident that Harry had been probing Will. Truly it were heartbreaking to see that kind of anguish, Harry strained, shouting and begging for him. “I dunno how to control it ducky…” Will said, half wishing he could take her face up in his hands. Rub at the tears that were staining her eyes red. “He’s a good’n. Saved my life many a time. He were one of my good friends. Even if he were posh!” He didn’t act like it though. John was every bit an honest man. Would it be too much to admit he missed him too? “He’s a smart one that one. Bloke is always just around t’corner!”

—

William didn’t know how to control it… Fuck, Harry had no idea how to control it, if it could be controlled. Harry glowered at Will, knowing it wasn’t his fault, but hating him anyway. He called John a good friend, but he couldn’t remember when he’d last seen him? Harry felt her eyes smart, she turned around before Will could see her crying. Facing the bush, Harry willed John to appear, daring him to come out of the bush and wrap Harry in a hug so tight that would squeeze the air out of her lungs, If he could meet William as many times as he claimed, he could emerge right now for her.

Harry waited a beat. A gust of wind rustled the leaves and branches, birds far above their head sang, and her sense through the ground was quiet, empty. It was just them. 

Harry’s anguish transmuted, twisted itself into cold, dark anger. The ground underneath her feet started to shiver, a deep, ominous growl came from the earth. “Give him back to me,” she demanded, addressing the damn jungle, with its wiles and tricks. The ground shuddered underneath, birds now screeching in alarm as they took off on mass. Trees groaned around them, trunks and vines swaying sickly with the erratic, juddering shakes. “Or I swear I’ll uproot this entire fucking forest!” Harry’s voice rang out against the deep, earthen rumbling, a tree to their right toppling over from the bone jellifying shaking. “GIVE ME MY BROTHER!” Harry shouted as the shaking reached its crescendo, her voice raw and hoarse as a big tree arched downwards in front of them, smashing into the ground a few inches from Harry’s face. 

—

Willie had hoped that maybe this little flourish of affection for Johnny boy might alleviate some of her woes, and in the end it did the contrary. She were quiet at first, and Will thought this was the end of it. She’d disappear into the jungle and be done with him. But the wind howled against them, and Willie swiftly arched into a brace. It were a bloody good job of it too because Harry howled like a dog ready for slaughter. The ground beneath them joined in on her screams and with a yelp, Willie jumped, holding himself steadfast above the tottering earth. 

Harry however, Harry was transfixed. Unaware of the danger she were in as the island surrendered to her pain. His attention snapped upwards as the birds took flight, and as he did he witnessed the beginning of the end. The tree to their mutual right was starting to quiver, and immediately swooped down into a low deep destructive bow. “NO!” Instinctively, Will used the force of the growing wind to pull Harry as if she were attached to a yoyo string into him. That was the last thing he recalled, because with Harry in his arms, as they tumbled backwards, he was thrust into another vision.

—

Harry walked into the deep jungle, alone. The quiet was usually a relief after the chaos of the beach, all those people walking and chattering set off tooth-aching headaches. But Harry trekked into the jungle with a heavy heart. Her footsteps lonely, solitary. 

John should be with her. “You said you were going to the beach,” Harry muttered, imagining John was a step behind her, just out of sight of the corner of her eye. “You aren’t there.” A fact that brought a flurry of worry to Harry’s chest, sour acid rising in the back of her throat. They’d argued, and John had stormed off, but the whole fight had started because John wanted to move to the beach and find himself a wife. He wasn’t there. 

Harry entered a clearing and stopped walking. She stood in front of a great tree, as wide as a house, taller than anything she’d ever seen before. It had to be hundreds of years old, and its age and its size made Harry feel small and tiny and insignificant and deeply, truly, alone. 

“John,” Harry called for him, a childish note to her voice, like he was a toddler late for dinner and mum was worried he’d gotten into trouble. “John!” Harry shouted, her voice full of regret. “I didn’t mean it! Any of it! Please!” Harry’s voice was swallowed up by the din of the forest, insects, birds, uncaring if her words reached John or not. “Come back…”

—

The carnage had felt good, cathartic. Like how when John had introduced Harry to Maria for the first time, and Maria had left behind her sweater, so Harry had taken a pair of scissors to the garment and torn it to shreds. Harry wanted to do that now, she wanted the entire island destroyed, rubble beneath her feet, clear the whole jungle if it meant there was a straight path to John. 

The tree next to her arched down, and Harry followed its path with detached fascination, wondering if it would flatten her. Suddenly she was yanked by a gust of air, the trembling stopped as soon as her feet left the ground and the branches of the tree shattered into the earth where she’d been standing. Harry fell back into something warm and squishy. Will. She’d all but forgotten about him, and now she was entangled in his long limbs. 

“Get off!” Harry hissed, pushing herself to her feet while William was still dazed from a memory. Harry clenched her jaw, the rumbling of the earthquake fading, a deathly quiet encasing the forest around them. “Leave me alone,” Harry snarled, not wanting anything more to do with William, his tricksome memories. “Leave me.”

—

It felt so final and terribly heart wrenching to feel the acidic call of Harry’s memory. She were stricken by the loss of her brother, and Will, he was so caught up in the weight of her everlasting grief that even as he came to it still kept him pinned. Dazed, and confused as to how he’d gotten on the jungle floor Willie pushed himself up onto his knees. Not fast enough for Harry though, who was demanding that he leave her. “I canna leave you’s ducky…” Will groaned, somewhere, something hurt, and it hurt terribly bad.

He pushed himself up to standing with a little flurry of assistance, and took a half-step towards her. “We can find him together.” Will hastily suggested, eager for it. He hadn’t even known that he’d been grieving the loss of John until the weight of Harry’s crashed with his own. How was he supposed to know what grief for an individual felt like anymore? Between them lay a wasteland of earthen destruction, cracks and fallen trees. Even the jungle were quiet. 

“Please ducky…” He pleaded. More afraid of being alone than he’d ever realised.

—

Will wanted to come with her, a poor, lumbering substitute for her brother. “No,” Harry said. Loneliness was a toxic sort of love, the one you knew was bad for you, but it was Harry’s old companion. She didn’t know how to function without it anymore. “You’ve done enough.” Harry stood in the middle of the destruction she’d unleashed, regret always a beat too late with Harry, the guilt that had clawed at her throat when she’d been forced to clean up piece by piece of a shredded sweater. It was easier to blame Will, the taste of John that had unleashed Harry’s grief. 

“The river’s that way,” Harry pointed, feeling its distant rumbling. It was in the opposite direction to which she now trekked. Footsteps scrambling after her sounded strange. Without a word Harry raised a wall of earth between her and Will, and continued her solitary odyssey.

—

END.

#will 01 #a delight to write with as always #can't get enough of my man will #his flashbacks... chefs kiss #also an excellent header made by dion bless #stranded event 9 #willieshaw

[givemearmstopraywith]

everyone needs someone to love them, the one with eyes of green

#p #pd liddle was the lead vocalist for one of my favourite bands of all time- dry the river- #but they broke up in 2016 and i was heartbroken #imagine my joy at discovering he is doing solo work now #and its this beautiful and heartbreaking #yes i cried the first time i listened to this song #Spotify

[seasurfacefullofclouds1]

Ehi Sea, I know I’ll bore you probably because you had have already quite some messages like mine, but I want to share with you my story of how I became completely in love (platonically) with Louis. Sorry in advance for my English! I’m not a young fan, I’m 37 this year so when One Direction break I didn’t know them, didn’t listen to them and I consider them just the children boyband of that time. I grow up with Backstreet Boys, so 1D were just like that for adolescents with the only difference of internet, so a big no for 25 me. Fast forward to last summer, you can call me a “tik tok Louises” because I don’t know why but out of the blue I had many video of them on my feed and I had some videos with that beauty of Copy on it. Then I decided that I want to know more of that singer because I really can’t recognize anyone of that band except Harry since he was the only one with a song that the radio play here in my country. So I went to twitter and after discovery that “that singer” was Louis and after I read some things about him (yes, before you ask, I believed in the #Larrieisreal because there were just so many things that pointed to that direction I told myself) (but now i see the light yeah) coincidentally I read about the upcoming streaming of AFHF and even though I didn’t know one Louis song except the refrain of Copy I decided to buy one ticket to see what he is about and when i tell you i was shocked by him i am not exaggerating. In all these months I’ve continued to discover new things about him, I streaming almost all of his concerts (the NA leg was not so good for my sleep schedule, so will be the next LatAm leg hahah) and I really am amazed by him, how careful, kind, really genuine he is. What I want to say after this poem is, I really think that if “they” allowed people to find out the real Louis to GA, he can became the Next Big One. I know now why “they” didn’t and don’t want that, god forbid if someone turn off the spotlights on Harry, but if Louis had reach me with just one concert, imagine what he can really do WHEN he will have the real power by himself (don’t know if I am still naïve but I really believe in his Faith In The Future). So, to a persone like you who had see all and beyond, I just want to say thank you for still be with him, and for allow people like me to have a place where you can appreciate the wonderful person he is. In so many post of yours I continue to see all the things he had to put back, and all the times he had to find a way to survive artistically. If I have to find a word to descrive him I would say STRONG, because after all the things that happened so many artists would have say “fuck it” and they would have enjoyed the money and stop. But not Louis. He transforms that fuck it in a fuck you to all the people that put him down and continue to work and do what makes him happy. In conclusion Sea, thanks to you for be here for us, and thank you to Louis, he really is a special one!

Hello!!

Thank you for this amazing story. I’m so glad you decided to share it! It’s so interesting the different ways in which new fans enter Louis’ fandom, because like you said, Louis has had basically no promotion, no pop culture media, and very few solo fans.

The way that people gravitate to Louis is often because of his music first— the music, his joyful presence, his calming and reassuring personality. Louis is beautiful, but there are lots of beautiful people in the world. There’s only one Louis Tomlinson.

Louis gives so much hope and joy to others simply by being himself. His steadfast optimism, his grit, and his talent are all incredibly inspiring. Sometimes we get through very difficult times simply knowing that he did it, one step at a time. He was the underdog. He was the unexpected hero. He’s the one who tells us, “Trying is more than not trying. So why not give it a go?”

He’s fascinating and everything about him is original.

I love hearing stories like these!! Thank you for writing!

#louis tomlinson #louie culture

[becausethathappens]

i love the way you write. can you tell me something nice to calm my nerves? my day has been awful and the way you write takes me out of it, instantly. *currently rereading everything you've written on ao3 ignore the kudos that might give this away 👀*

anonnnnnnnnn. 🤚💓

something nice: rhett and link have been together longer than i’ve been alive. (i’m more than three decades old. 😩)

and something short for you, because this made me blush:

-———————-

needs no conversation

1k - Rhett and Link duet for the first time.

songs referenced: yesterday’s wine / islands in the stream

-

Over a year passes after Rhett's voice dropped before he starts using it as regularly as he used to. More than once, trying to sing along to whatever's on the radio and having his voice crack and squeak has led to teasing from friends and family alike. He's gun-shy to hold a tune until he's sure the baritone that his register has changed to is permanent.

Poor Link's voice has only gotten higher, since around the same time, but the elasticity and charm of it suits his personality.

It's years into being grumpy, monosyllabic teenagers before they feel happy enough to sing aloud, let alone together.

One night, while they’re stuffed with pizza and sketching tree forts (they're sick of lugging all their things to the river, every time they swim and want a place to store belongings in the woods, closer by), Rhett finds himself singing along to Yesterday's Wine with a full-throated joy that makes Link's insides swirl. It's certainly the most he's used his voice, confidently, since it's settled on this octave.

Rhett's voice sounds good. Objectively good and better than it's maybe ever sounded.

Link, shyly, joins in because he's sure the longer he sits and listens, it'll become a problem for his head or his heart or both. It unsettles him.

He's not more than three seconds into the chorus, singing along with George Jones' section, when he notices that Rhett's set aside his writing instruments, as well, and is looking over at him.

In near the same way that Link was looking at him.

It's then, right that second, Link hears it.

The natural harmony they've stumbled across.

The song's over too soon. 

With busy eyes and unsteady hands, Link scrambles over to the tape deck to switch out to another song. The next up was a solo b-side from Merle's early work that won’t showcase what he’s just heard.

He picks the first tape with a duet he can find.

Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers.

It's just to prove a theory, the song choice. Selected because Link knows it has two distinct singers. Not much thought going into it beyond that.

He pops the tape into the player and hits play. He feigns looking down at his drawings for a moment, like he's merely changing the background music and returning to them.

But after a few seconds, he can't withhold his interest and looks up. 

Rhett's still staring right at him.

And he doesn’t seem to have stopped this whole time.

As the music fades in softly, his eyes are soft and doe-y. 

To Link’s surprise, he starts to sing, clearly begging Link, wordlessly, to do the same in the next verse.

"Baby, when I met you there was peace unknown I set out to get you with a fine tooth comb," Rhett begins.

Link stares at him, takes it in. He lets his ears adjust and come to grips with the fact that Rhett's voice really sounds that smooth and adult, overpowering Kenny's easily in the quiet room with the volume purposefully low.

They both know the lyrics.

"I was soft inside There was something going on," Rhett sings.

Link’s smile breaks wide, an outburst of shocked elation that Rhett sound only improves. He really sounds this good. Professionally good.

An idea bubbles into his mind, one he'd never dare to think if not so immersed in the candied daydream of hearing his friend's beautiful voice echo around the small bedroom for what feels like the first time. He's picturing Rhett singing this for an audience, his unused hand holding a microphone, as Link watches Rhett drum a steady one-two rhythm along with the beat into his thigh.

Link does the same and then immediately jumps in on the first harmony.

"You do something to me that I can't explain Hold me closer and I feel no pain Every beat of my heart We got something going on," they sing together.

Link's eyes dart back and forth, feeling zapped by the electricity of how their voices sound paired together. 

It’s not just Rhett.

He takes in that, to his ears, his voice sounds much deeper than it has in years. When he sings with Rhett, trying to match the key change, it feels like Rhett is sharing some of his baritone. His own lifts up, as though to meet Link halfway.

Their words tumble out over each other in a kind of velvety sophistication that makes Link picture them both on a stage performing. It makes Link's heart leap, how natural it would seem, were it to be like this.

"Tender love is blind It requires a dedication," Rhett belts out, getting into it.

Link grins and nods. They could lead the choir at church.

They both sing, "All this love we feel needs no conversation We ride it together, ah ha."

Rhett wiggles back and forth to the beat, Link joins in.

"Making love with each other, ah ha," they sing, blushing. 

Rhett laughs, inaudibly, in respect to the music, at how silly that line sounds, when sung by the two of them. 

"Islands in the stream That is what we are No one in between How can we be wrong Sail away with me To another world And we rely on each other, ah ha From one lover to another, ah ha," they harmonize.

Link's eyes shine. They could start a band.

Link sings, "I can't live without you if the love was gone Everything is nothing if you got no one And you did walk in the night Slowly losing sight of the real thing."

Rhett's eyes are also shining back. Link is already sure that he'll agree to the idea. He hardly ever says no, in Link's experience. 

They sing, "But that won't happen to us and we got no doubt Too deep in love and we got no way out And the message is clear This could be the year for the real thing."

He pictures their names on a marquee.

Link closes his eyes and sings, "No more will you cry Baby, I will hurt you never."

He imagines their album cover, posed like Lionel or Merle.

Rhett joins him, "We start and end as one In love forever We can ride it together, ah ha Making love with each other, ah ha."

Link nods along, lost in fantasy.

"Islands in the stream That is what we are No one in between How can we be wrong Sail away with me To another world And we rely on each other, ah ha From one lover to another, ah ha," they recite in tandem.

Link opens his eyes again and is struck by the fact that Rhett's eyes are also open or have still never closed. 

Once again the ZING of amazement bolts through him at how strongly the affection and pride on Rhett's face beams at him.

They sing, "Sail away Oh come sail away with me."

The chorus repeats twice, both of them staring like that the whole time, and Link fights the urge to reach out and join their hands as if in prayer. He's seen duets do that before, like Sonny and Cher. He understands the impulse, now. He wants nothing more than to chase this connected, harmonious feeling, now and perhaps the rest of his life.

Entertain himself and others, alongside Rhett.

As the song finishes, they sing, "Islands in the stream That is what we are No one in between."

This is their ticket out.

A solo track ticks on next and the spell is somewhat broken. 

Link leans back and laughs, covering his mouth with both palms at once. 

Rhett settles, blushing, and hides his mouth with the back of his right hand. It also masks the smile growing fast at Link’s reaction. 

It feels like they've just discovered a secret too great for them to know.

"That was so good," Link tells him, honest.

"I 's just thinkin' that," Rhett agrees, chuckling. "Don't think I've ever been able to hold an melody like that. You hit the high notes dead-on."

"And that was some professional-grade crooning," Link assures him.

"Oh, don't know about that," Rhett dismisses.

"No, I'm serious. We should start a band," Link says, earnestly.

Rhett watches him for a few seconds, trying to judge whether or not he's serious. When he sees no hesitation, finally, he smirks.

"Okay," Rhett agrees, looking thrilled.

Link grins back at him.

"It's like it was written about us, too. We've got an island in a stream. If you could count the river as one. How’s that for song choice?" Link asks, playfully.

Rhett frowns. "That's... not what the song - it's about - " Rhett looks at Link funny, then continues, "It's not about that. D'you even listen to the lyrics?"

"No," Link answers, easy and truthful.

"You really wanna start a band with me?” Rhett’s eyes fall and he scratches the back of his head. “If you got distracted while I was singing?"

"Rhett, I got distracted by your singing," Link explains.

Rhett looks down. "Oh."

There's a long pause.

"Well, I got distracted by you, too."

Link's eyes widen.

"By your singing," Rhett adds, hastily.

Link rolls his eyes and shakes his head. Unsure how else Rhett would've expected him to take that.

The blush that warms his chest also brings with it a smile.

He rewinds the tape so they can begin again.

#things i wrote #sharing music is intimate #i love you @anon #i have a WIP that i need to finish #and other things #but i'm in my feelings about them today #🥺️ #rhink fic #fluff

[justkeeptrekkin]

Object Permanence Prompts: I'm thinking like... a family day out? Maybe a zoo or aquarium?

Why yes, my dear, dear Tumblr friendo. I would most certainly like to write a family day out at the zoo/aquarium. thank you for the prompt <3

***

There are many benefits to being (at last) financially stable. For most of his teenage years Meng Yao focused all of his efforts on building a life that would grant him something close to autonomy. And when Meng Yao focuses his efforts, it is with a precision so sharp and precise that it is almost nauseating; the dizzy feeling of straining to look at a distant target and not letting yourself look away. Meng Yao has kept his eye on those targets for as long as he can remember.

He never imagined this being one of them. ‘This’ being the freedom to take a day off from work in order to go on a family day out to the zoo. 

A-Xing is now not so much a toddler as a trotter. The determination to run is clear, and yet toddling just doesn’t seem to be cutting it anymore -- and so he trots about the flat, laughing as he goes, like he’s performed a magic trick. Sometimes it does feel a bit like magic to Meng Yao, who will invigilate these bursts of energy with amusement and awe. It still takes some getting used to, having a child, even after all this time.

Now, A-Xing is running down the quiet path past the goat and antelope enclosures. Meng Yao watches, holding the baby’s little windbreaker, and waits for the moment that A-Xing will inevitably fall over and either burst into heartbroken tears or get right back up like a ping-pong ball.

“What do you think so far?” Lan Xichen asks.

The weather is bright and cool, and the sun is caught behind Lan Xichen. Meng Yao winces in the light, then looks ahead at where A-Xing has stopped to inspect a pebble on the ground.

“It’s calmer than I expected,” he admits. “Though that may be because it’s a Tuesday morning.”

Lan Xichen nods sagely. Initially, the thought of going to the zoo had been pretty hellish. Wei Wuxian had given them the idea, and as a habit, Meng Yao ignores most of his ideas. But then he’d gone on about how formative these early years are in creating happy memories, of doing things as a family, of experiencing days out together, expanding children’s horizons, introducing them to the animals that they’re constantly learning in their pop up books -- and Meng Yao had secretly conceded that Wei Wuxian may, perhaps, have a kernel of a point.

That, and Lan Xichen admitted later that evening whilst they were reading in bed that he had never been to the zoo before. And Meng Yao shared that he hadn’t either. And so it was tacitly agreed that they would raise their child neither like Lan Qiren nor like Meng Shi -- as hard as they both did try.

So far, they have seen otters (Lan Xichen had made a subtle comment on Meng Yao finding his ‘true family’) and giraffes (Meng Yao had returned the gag), and have not had a chance to look at much else because A-Xing has been running a marathon through the whole park. They’d stopped for an ice-cream, which A-Xing tried and then promptly decided he didn’t want after all, so Lan Xichen is currently eating a child-size, soft-serve vanilla cone.

“I’m finding it far less chaotic that Wangji suggested it would be,” Lan Xichen says after he finishes the last of the ice-cream cone.

Meng Yao purses his lips. “Wangji was dragged by Wei Wuxian on a Saturday afternoon with Nie Huaisang. I can’t imagine anything more chaotic.”

Lan Xichen narrows his eyes and his shoulders move with a silent laugh.

Up ahead, there’s the quiet whining sounds of A-Xing trying to decide whether or not he’s going to cry. He’s on his hands and knees. Lan Xichen swoops him up into his arms and blows a raspberry against the baby’s cheek before he can even think about crying, and he starts to laugh instead. The thing they have discovered about A-Xing is that he is a swiftly moving pendulum between unspeakable distress and uncontainable joy. There is rarely anything in between, aside from perhaps face-crumpling frustration.

“Look, A-Xing,” Meng Yao says. He’s using his painfully positive voice and dimply smile, which he’s discovered can sway both adults and babies. “Look -- there are penguins. Shall we have a look at the penguins?”

Bumps and bruises forgotten, A-Xing struggles in Lan Xichen’s arms to look where Meng Yao is pointing. Ahead, there is an open top enclosure with glass walls, a little huddle of penguins, and a few solo penguins hopping out of the water and waddling around. They’re small and occasionally make a ridiculous squawk. 

Meng Yao reads the placard, because, in Nie Huaisang’s words, he’s ‘like, super boring’. He sees it simply as not passing up on the opportunity to learn something.

A-Xing stares in that wide-eyed, zoned out awe that young children have. Lan Xichen holds their child and they both look into the enclosure together, heads huddled like they’re penguins, too. It’s a natural and wholesome sight, the picture of fatherhood that Meng Yao had never been able to imagine until he took in A-Xing.

“The Adélie penguin is one of the most common species of penguin, originating from the coast of Antarctica. They like to forage for their meals and are even known to steal from each other.” Meng Yao looks up at Lan Xichen, who is angling A-Xing so that he can see the penguins. “These are called penguins, A-Xing.”

“They have black and white fur,” Lan Xichen explains.

Another family stands further along from them, a slightly older child pressing her face to the glass and steaming it up with her breath. And then A-Xing begins to wriggle again, and so Lan Xichen puts him down and they watch him career ahead. Yes, it has taken getting used to, having a child. Another thing that has taken getting used to is being able to share all of the trials and tribulations of having a child with Lan Xichen. It still, therefore, leaves Meng Yao with that pleasant jolt of surprise when Lan Xichen reaches out his hand and links fingers with his.

In one of those startling, lovely moments of lucidity, he reminds himself: We’re parents.

Keeping the baby at a reasonable distance (Meng Yao itches to pick him up but allows A-Xing a certain amount of freedom), they find the aquarium. It’s dark and damp and warm and reminds him of some of the dorm rooms he had to live in at university. There are more fish here than there were there, though. And it’s more peaceful.

The light undulates through the tanks like some beautiful phenomenon in the night sky. Meng Yao holds a quiet A-Xing in his arms, brings him to the glass as they watch the jellyfish drift. Pink frills and tentacles stretch, and A-Xing goes very contemplative as he stares. That’s a very sobre expression for someone just over one year old; he must have picked that up from Lan Xichen, who has his hand on Meng Yao’s waist. The three of them watch the jellyfish in meditative silence.

The clown fish cause a little more excitement. A-Xing presses a tiny hand to the glass and makes quiet hiccuping noises of surprise when the little orange fish dart about in their anemones.

“A little orange fish,” Meng Yao points out. “It’s called a clown fish, A-Xing.”

“Fish.”

Lan Xichen goes very still next to him. They both look down at the baby.

“Fish?” Lan Xichen asks with raised brows, as if he’d misheard.

“Fish,” says A-Xing.

Meng Yao looks down at the little miracle in his arms. A-Xing utterly obvious to the somersaults his heart is doing, the tightness in his throat, the suffocating pride he feels that’s making him grin. Instead, he’s pressing his palm to the glass and frowning in concentration.

“Baba,” A-Xing says, tapping the glass. “Fish.”

“Yes, it’s a fish,” Meng Yao says as calmly and brightly as possible. “A-Xing, show baba and diedie the fish again.”

“Fish.”

Oh god. If there is anything that could make this moment better, it’s the little smile on Lan Xichen’s face, creeping up behind the dreamy look of awe. “Extraordinary,” Lan Xichen says. And then he kisses the top of A-Xing’s little black head of hair.

It is. A-Xing is extraordinary. Everything he does is extraordinary. Everything about this unexpected life is extraordinary.

My child is a genius, Meng Yao thinks as he kisses his cheeks and smiles himself giddy.

#mdzs #the untamed #xiyao #jgy #lxc #fic prompt #Object Permanence Prompts

[brooke0297]

Electric Hammer to the Heart (A Julie and The Phantoms Fic)

Masterlist

First work for JATP and inspired partially by how I go absolutely rabid when I hear "Now or Never". Also inspired by how I just wanted a little fluff with Julie being a sixteen year old girl listening to good music. Hope you like it!

Julie had basically forgotten about the CD.

In the grand scheme of things, it was an easy detail to fall through the cracks when one accidentally summoned three ghosts, started a band, then saved said ghosts from being destroyed by another villainous ghost. All in the span of about a month.

Needless to say, she’d had a lot on her mind since then.

But now, she held the case in her hands and examined it. It felt like a lifetime ago that she had first put the disc in her mom’s stereo and pressed play.

Carlos had inconspicuously placed it on her dresser at some point. He had told her that it was the key to solving the mystery of the Molina’s ghost problem and how he had discovered her “holograms” were just the ghosts of three seventeen year old band members from 1995. Now it seemed he was done with it and had given it back to Julie.

There was a lot of weight to the disc in her hand, she realized. It was what brought her “phantoms” and three new best friends into her life. It was how she finally found her way back to music after losing her mom. And it was the last connection the guys had to their lives before the unfortunate street dogs incident.

Knowing Luke, Reggie, and Alex; this was the culmination of years and years of hard work. This, as well as the Orpheum gig, would have launched Sunset Curve into stardom. 

She suddenly realized she hadn’t even listened to the first song all the way through.

Well she had been thinking about putting on some new music to study to. And the guys were God knows where. They had been relishing in their newfound freedom after the Caleb incident, staying out all hours to visit clubs and music venues. She wouldn’t have to worry about playing their old stuff and embarrassing them.

She gently pulled the CD out of the case and popped it into the disc drive on her laptop. As she pulled up her music player, she could hear the whiring of the drive as it prepared to read the disc. By the time her music theory review had been pulled up, the disc had loaded and was ready to play.

The familiar sound of Luke’s guitar erupted from her speakers in the intro and she heard Owen count them in. There was a small moment of anticipation before the music began and Luke’s voice filled the room.

Take off, last stop

Countdown till we blast open the top.

Face first, full charge

Electric hammer to the heart.

Julie realized in all the time she’d heard Luke sing, she had never really heard his voice this gritty and breathless. It was a classic rock sound and Julie could feel her head begin bobbing as the others joined in.

Clocks move forward

But we don't get older, no

Kept on climbing

Till our stars collided

And all the times we fell behind

Were just the keys to paradise

Don't look down

'Cause we're still rising up right now.

And even if we hit the ground

We'll still fly

Keep dreaming like we'll live forever

But live it like it's now or never.

Julie was smiling in spite of herself. The lyrics just screamed Luke. There was so much passion and excitement in each lyric. She’d written with him enough to know that Luke’s words were never frivolous. He poured his heart into each one.

Hear the noise, in my head

It's calling out like a voice I can't forget

One life, no regrets

Catch up, got no time to catch my breath

Clocks move faster

Cause it's all we're after now, oh

Won't stop climbing

Cause this is our time, yeah

When all the days felt black and white

Those were the best shades of my life

Julie had stopped paying attention to her homework and was instead listening carefully to Alex’s drum beat. She could distinguish Reggie’s bass line out of Luke’s furious shredding and she felt herself grinning with pride. These were her amazingly talented band mates. Despite not knowing the words well, she began mouthing along to the chorus.

Don't look down

'Cause we're still rising up right now

And even if we hit the ground

We'll still fly

Keep dreaming like we'll live forever

But live it like it's now or never

We ain't searching for tomorrow (Tomorrow)

'Cause we got all we need today (Today)

There was Alex’s solo and Reggie’s response. She grinned. Julie decided she needed to speak to Luke as soon as she could about giving the guys more lines.

Living on a feeling that's been running through our veins.

We're the revolution that's been singing in the rain.

As the clapping kicked in, Julie was dancing in her seat.

Don't look down

'Cause we're still rising up right now

And even if we hit the ground

We'll still fly

Keep dreaming like we'll live forever

But live it like it's now or never

It's now or never (Now or never).

Luke’s guitar and the guy’s voices drifted out as the song ended and Julie realized she was breathless. As the next demo began (“Late Last Night”, according to the jacket), Julie sat back in her chair.

She knew Luke was an incredible songwriter and all three of the guys were amazing musicians. But hearing how much passion and joy they put into their first song made her appreciate her boys even more. She remembered what Luke had once said about the connection between musician and audience and how it was his dream to form that bond with everyone who listened to Sunset Curve. He had lived for music. He still did.

Julie was hit with a wave of appreciation for her band. They had definitely saved her when she had felt like she was drowning. It had been Luke’s words that had coaxed her into entering the studio and given her the courage to play again. The three of them had jumped up on the stage at her school to have her back the day she reentered the music program. And they had chosen possible destruction over abandoning the Phantoms and playing for Caleb at his Ghost club. Luke’s words from the night of the Orpheum came back to her.

“No music is worth making, Julie, if we’re not making it with you. No regrets.” 

Man, she really wanted a group hug right about now.

She snapped back to reality as the song changed a second time. “Lakeside Reflection”, which she thought she remembered Luke saying was inspired by Alex and his journey with coming out to his friends and family, began. She shook herself out of her musings and tried to focus on music theory.

She was able to finish the worksheet as the final demo (“In Your Starlight”) faded out. The songs were phenomenal and, instead of ejecting the disc, she clicked play on “Now or Never” again. Her room filled once again with the sounds of Luke’s guitar and she began to bob her head along. 

I didn’t realize how catchy this song is. Julie thought to herself as she sang under her breath.

When the song finished, Julie didn’t hesitate to hit the repeat button. Over and over she found herself listening to the song until eventually she was dancing around her room and jumping on her bed, holding her phone like a mic and singing at the top of her lungs.

“Don't look down! 'Cause we're still rising up right now!” She strummed her imaginary guitar like she imagined Luke would and laughed. It had been a while since she had jammed out by herself.

*****

“Boys, we are rocking it!” Luke exclaimed. He and the boys had poofed into the studio from the last club they had been at and Alex could see the familiar glint in his friend’s eyes. It usually signaled a breathless speech full of highlighting their potential and how important it was to strike while the iron was hot. He and Reggie agreed 100%, but sometimes (most of the time) Luke got carried away and one of them would have to try and bring him back to Earth.

“I mean, we were ten times better than those guys on that stage. We need to seize the moment and book some more gigs. Hey maybe Julie-”

“Where is Julie?” Reggie interrupted. Alex sighed, grateful for his friend and his usual lack of tact.

Luke seemed to snap out of his tirade when he realized their frontwoman was missing.

“She must be in the house. C’mon let’s tell her about that Foxes band we heard tonight.”

The boys poofed into the living room of the Molina house and glanced around, No sign of Julie.

“She’s probably in her room-wait a second.” Reggie cocked his head and listened. Luke and Alex glanced at each other before doing the same. Alex could hear the music coming from the direction of Julie’s room. But there was something familiar about the beat he could barely make out. 

“Hang on,” Luke said, “Is that…?”

“I can’t tell.” Reggie said. The three boys bounded up the stairs and huddled together around the door to Julie’s room, listening.

“Clocks move faster cause it's all we're after now, oh!”

“That’s us! That’s our song!” Reggie exclaimed. 

Luke was astonished. Julie was clearly listening to their demo CD. The one they’d been handing out for weeks to every music executive and promoter they could hassle before booking the Orpheum. He remembered that one producer had a DO NOT ALLOW poster with his picture on it after he and Bobby had hounded the guy for a month straight. He’d forgotten that Now or Never had been on this demo. It had once been one of his favorite Sunset Curve songs. The energy was a great encore song and it had gained a huge following amongst their fans. The last time he had played that song was…

“Should we go in there?” Alex asked. When Luke didn’t answer, the drummer hesitantly knocked. 

No answer.

“Maybe we should just go in? I mean, she probably didn’t hear us.” Reggie reasoned.

“You remember what happened the last time we barged into her room without permission.” Alex retorted. Before Reggie could reply, Luke had phased through the door and into the room. Alex and Reggie followed and the three of them paused at the scene that awaited them.

Julie was jumping around on her bed and singing the lyrics at the top of her lungs into her phone. Her hair was wild around her face and her eyes were shut as she belted the chorus.

“But LIVE IT LIKE IT'S NOW OR NEVER!”

“Julie!” Alex called over the music. When their singer didn’t respond, the boys glanced at each other.

“JULIE!” they hollered together.

Julie’s eyes snapped open and she shrieked when she realized the guys were standing in her room staring at her. The surprise was enough to throw her off her balance and she tumbled onto her stomach on her bed. When she regained her bearings, the guys were still staring at her but Alex and Reggie had lunged out to try and catch her. The music was still blaring and she scrambled to press pause.

Silence filled the room.

“Uh..hey guys! How was the club? Anyone good play tonight?” she asked nervously.

“Was that our demo?” Reggie asked. Julie fumbled.

“Uh..well I mean...ugh yeah it was. But I wasn’t intentionally keeping it from you I swear! I just didn’t want to make you sad or anything. And the last time I tried to listen was when three ghosts dropped into my garage so I didn’t really get to actually listen and--”

“Did you like it?”

The question came from Luke. He was looking at Julie with thinly veiled vulnerability in his eyes. It had always felt like sharing a piece of his soul when he gave out their demo. The boys had worked day and night, scrounging money from odds and end jobs, birthday money, and selling Bobby’s dad’s old furniture from the garage in order to afford the studio time. But it had paid off. Having a demo had set them up for booking more higher paying gigs until they’d finally booked the Orpheum. Luke had a lot of pride when it came to that demo. And Julie’s opinion was important to him. 

“Hmm?” she asked, not sure if she’d heard right.

“Did you like it? The song?” Luke clarified. The boys turned their gaze back to Julie.

“Well, yeah of course I did.” Julie answered, “I mean you did just see me bust a move on my bed, right?”

And there it was. Luke’s 1000 watt smile lit up his face and Julie mirrored it.

“We didn’t know you were a Sunset Curve fan!” Reggie bellowed in delight. Alex found himself grinning as well.

“Well duh! I mean, I wouldn't say they’re as good as Julie and the Phantoms but...” she jokingly trailed off and Reggie laughed.

“You really like the songs?” Alex asked.

“You guys, they were incredible! I mean Luke; the lyrics are insanely good and holy moly Alex we need to hear you sing more! And Reggie too!” Julie gushed. She was still riding the adrenaline from her scare, but she wanted to make sure the boys knew how much she loved their songs.

Reggie and Alex moved to clamor onto her bed to hear more and she turned to Luke.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to them with you guys though. I didn’t want to bring up any bad memories for you.”

Luke shook his head.

“No it’s… I’m just really happy you liked them. It’s been a long time since we heard those songs. Especially since Bobby didn’t steal them.”

Julie exhaled in relief.

“Okay but now I want to talk about maybe sampling some of your other demos. The bass line from “Lakeside Reflection” would be really cool…”

Luke laughed and joined his bandmates on her bed as Julie began to dissect the demo. There was a warm feeling in his chest that wasn’t going away anytime soon.

******

Thanks for reading everyone! Let me know what you think!

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #jatp fanfic #jatp spoilers #julie and the himbos #julie molina #luke patterson #alex mercer #reggie peters #julie and the phantoms fanfiction #b's fanfics

[yuta-nakamots]

Groove - k.ji

Pairing - Idol!Jongin x Choreographer!Reader

Genre - Fluff

Warnings - None

Summary - You are a choreographer chosen to work with Jongin for his upcoming solo album. He’s an idol and you’re not, it’s as simple as that until you find yourselves dancing between the lines of business and something more intimate.

Word Count - 6k

A/N - This is the reworked version of ‘a dance to remember’ which I wrote when I was about 15 years old. That piece itself is based on a dream I had about EXO. This essentially is a fic written about a fic written about a dream so I’m sorry if it seems kinda disjointed.

When you were younger, you had discovered that you had an immense passion for dance and you had begged your parents to let you join the small dance studio near your school. Even if it was just an average dance school it wasn’t uncommon for the bigger entertainment companies to recruit backup dancers or choreographers from studios like yours, which is how you had met a handful of idols before. Each month, you had to go in and perform a short piece that you created in order to keep track of your progress. Normally, the room these progress videos were shot in are empty aside from you, the company director, and a couple of cameras set up to catch multiple angles.

However, this time around, there was a man standing next to your director. As you entered, you quickly greeted and bowed to your director and did the same to the guest. He was wearing a chocolate brown hoodie and light blue jeans along with a pair of rounded glasses and a face mask. He was quite tall and looked almost intimidating until you met his eyes that were warm and inviting but awfully familiar. Not wanting to be weird, you quickly turned around and made your way to the stereo equipment to plug in your phone and start the music. You finish your recording quickly and respectfully thank your director before leaving the studio to head home, your thoughts still preoccupied with the stranger who you were confident you had met somewhere before.

A week later, you received an email from the director: Good evening Y/n, From your video we recorded earlier this week, you’ve been recruited to work with EXO member Kai as a choreographer for his upcoming solo album. Congratulations on this achievement! We are looking forward to what you will create this time around. I will give you more details on this after your regularly scheduled class today.

The warm brown eyes that were all too familiar flashed inside your mind as you thought about all of his performances that you had watched before, wanting to learn from him and his style. The eyes of the stranger that had stood next to your director the day you recorded your video. No, it couldn’t have been him, you thought to yourself, there’s no way an idol would come to our dance studio. You shook your head to break yourself out of your imagination as you got ready to head over to the studio and teach your class.

You were going through your text message as you entered the room your class was in and walked right into your director. You immediately back up and profusely apologize, freezing once you recognize the person he was previously talking to. “Oh, y/n, this is Kai from EXO! I was just telling him how he should stay to watch you teach this class so he can get a taste of what your style is like.”

Kai looked from your director to you, offering you one of his signature smiles that have been known to melt hearts. “I’d love to” was all he had to say to make your stomach drop to the floor and your hands start sweating.

As you taught your class, you felt an intense stare on you the entire time, glancing over at Kai only a few times, finding him looking right back at you, causing you to suddenly jerk your head away only to hear Kai let out a quiet giggle from the corner he was sitting in. Eventually, you learn to ignore his presence and you continue teaching your class and wrapping up as you normally would. As your students begin filing out the door, Kai eagerly gets up and strides over to you. “Hey, y/n, I really liked the energy of that class and the genre of the piece you taught, I’m looking forward to working with you!” he said, the edges of his eyes crinkling as he smiled at you, “if you don’t mind, I’d like to get your number so we can talk more about the album” and he offered you his phone, already open to a blank contact page.

You quickly wipe your hands on your shirt before grabbing his phone, entering your number and handing it back to him with a shy “thank you, I look forward to working with you too”.

Later that night, you got a text from an unknown number.

Unknown > y/n 10:15pm: hi y/n, this is Jongin! ^^

You type a simple greeting back to him as you add him to your contact list and slip into bed. He immediately responds and starts asking questions about you, which you brushed off as him just being friendly. Your conversation continues for another half hour, consisting of mostly him asking about you and your interests accompanied by various cute emoticons until you finally grow tired of it.

y/n > EXO Kai 10:49pm: Why do you keep asking about me? What if I want to hear more about you?

EXO Kai > y/n 10:51pm: because I want to get to know you better （⌒_⌒）

10:51pm: I like to have a connection with the people I’m working with. even more so now, since this solo album is something new and special to me

10:52pm: besides, you can hear about me all the time from the fansites and media 

His response makes you pause and set your phone down for a bit as you realize that there’s more depth to Kai and his personality than you thought. Wow, not only is he an amazing performer, he has a kind heart and values his relationships, even if they’re only for work purposes. You were shocked, to say the least. From your experience working with idols, yes, you did get to know each other but they didn’t ask you about your hobbies or favorite foods like how Kai did. This just added to your list of reasons why this man is out of your league. No, he is not out of my league. We are not even in the same sport. He is an idol, he will not date you, stop it, you thought as you reprimanded yourself. However, you picked up your phone to message him back and continue your conversation, even though you dozed off not even five minutes later, failing to see the new texts you received from Kai.

EXO Kai > y/n 11:03pm: y/nnnnnn 

11:03pm: where did you gooooo >.<

11:04pm: ah, you must have fallen asleep

11:04pm: rest well y/n, goodnight (￣ε￣)

The rest of your week passes by uneventfully with you going to university and teaching your classes as usual. The only new addition to your schedule was a sort of ‘date’ with Kai on Thursday afternoon, your free day during the week, and also the day you were scheduled to meet with the other staff working on his album to get a sense of what kind of image they wanted. He had texted you asking if he could treat you to lunch at the SM Cafe after your meeting which you agreed to.

By the time Thursday comes around, you’re already feeling worn out from school, barely even able to put together an outfit and settling for a simple black t-shirt and jeans. You took the bus to the company building since you didn’t know where to park and you figured it would save gas anyways. The meeting was a nice refresher, as you were interested in the ideas the staff was putting out and you left the meeting feeling reenergized with tons of ideas flying through your head. You met Kai at the cafe as you had promised, finding him easily due to his large frame.  “You look nice, y/n” he commented, as you sat down opposite to him. You said a shy ‘thank you’ back while turning and looking out the window, hoping he didn’t notice the blush that had begun to show up on your cheeks. 

Lunch goes smoothly as he allows you to ask him questions this time around and he tells you about his hobby of playing with legos and putting elaborate things together to give to his nieces and nephews or how he has given up learning how to bake. You don’t miss the way his hands brush yours when you pass him a napkin after some of the coffee he was drinking spills out the side of this mouth or when both of you reach for your phone before it falls off the table. Maybe it’s because of all the times you’ve daydreamed about him after learning one of the dances he’s done, but to you, this ‘casual lunch’ is beginning to feel more and more like a date. Luckily, you two finish eating quickly and he asks if you’d be willing to show him some of the ideas you have so far. You eagerly told him yes along with a few details from the meeting and how you’re really excited to further refine them. 

Once both of you are in a practice room upstairs, you and Kai decide to sit in the middle of the room and talk about possible concepts and stories that could be portrayed, however, the conversation quickly strays off-topic due to Kai and his seemingly never-ending curiosity when it comes to you. “What do you do besides dancing and teaching your own classes?” he asks, looking more like a troublesome toddler than the idol you were supposed to be working with. 

You push that thought aside before responding, “I’m currently in university, majoring in business since I’m set to take over the dance school from the director.”

Kai keeps his eyes glued to you while you speak, the only movement coming from his fidgeting hands. After you finish speaking, he looks down in his lap before shyly speaking, “sometimes I like to think about what I’d be doing if I wasn’t an idol, you know? Would I have joined a dance studio like yours? Would I be in college right now? Would I have a girlfriend? Would I maybe even have a child?” He paused for a bit and ran a hand through his hair while moving to lie down. “I genuinely think that if I weren’t an idol, I’d still be in school. Being with animals and kids gives me so much joy, I’ve often thought about being a veterinarian or an elementary school teacher. Though they are drastically different, I find both of them to be so appealing” he said, letting out a sigh at the end of his sentence.

“Do you ever think that you’d be happier doing those things rather than where you are now?”

Kai looked over at you, not noticing you had laid down next to him as if both of you were outside looking at clouds. “Maybe...however, I’m still satisfied with the path my life took. Yes, there are drawbacks to being a public figure but I’m happy with all the experiences it has given me.” Sensing how the mood has become a little too serious for his liking, Kai decides to ask you another question. “Who’s your favorite member in my group?”

You let out a laugh, dumbfounded by his sudden question. “I’m not saying this just because you’re here, but it’s you and has been for a while now” you said sheepishly, keeping your eyes locked on the ceiling to keep yourself from looking at Kai and showing him your now pink-tinted cheeks.

“For a while now?” he asked, quoting your words. “How long have you been a fan of us?”

“Since your debut,” you said, throwing your hands on your face to hide your embarrassment before exclaiming, “ah, this is so awkward, I can’t believe I’m telling you this.” Fortunately, your embarrassment didn’t last long thanks to your roommate who had just sent you a text. You gladly moved away from Kai to check your phone, inwardly thanking your roommate for saving you from what could have become a shameful memory. Oh shit it’s already past 10? you thought to yourself, shocked at how quickly time passed while you were with Kai. “My roommate was just asking where I was since it’s getting kinda late,” you told him, “normally I don’t stay out this late since I have class tomorrow morning so I should probably get going now, especially since I have to catch the last bus which comes in a bit, I think.”

You stood up, but before you could so much as take a step towards the door, Kai stopped you. “I can drive you home” he offered, to which you vehemently refused, “you’re my choreographer and I’d hate for anything to happen to you when you haven’t even taught me the dance to my own song yet” he said, giving you the puppy eyes you’ve seen countless times through videos of him.

You can tell that he’s being sincere so eventually you accept his offer, but something about his words doesn’t sit quite right. You had told each other so much about yourselves and shown such an embarrassing side of yourself to him, yet he only regarded you as his choreographer. Because that’s what I am, you thought, trying to shove those thoughts out of your head, I’m nothing more than just his choreographer, a work acquaintance. This is simply a relationship based on our work together. He is an idol and I am his choreographer. Nothing more, nothing less. You internally slapped yourself for getting riled up over his words when he was only trying to be nice.

Once you were in his car, you told him your address as you put your seatbelt on. The ride home is mostly silent aside from little side comments made between the two of you, like when he tells you about how he and the members once went to the samgyeopsal restaurant you passed earlier and how Chanyeol proceeded to get absolutely wasted to the point where the members played rock paper scissors to decide who would be taking care of him for the night.

Time, again, seemed to pass a little faster than normal when you were talking to Kai and laughing with him. When he pulled up in front of your apartment building, you unbuckle your seatbelt and began to thank him, “Kai-”

“Why do you keep calling me that?”

“Calling you what?”

“Kai.”

“...Because it’s your name?” At this point, you were beyond confused as to what Kai was getting at.

“It’s one of my names, but it’s not MY name. My name is Jongin. Yes, Kai is my name as well but that’s who I am on stage...please, just call me Jongin from now on” he let out, sitting further back into his seat once he realized how aggressive he sounded.

“O-oh, okay. Goodnight Jongin.” Though you were used to saying that name while talking to your friends about his dancing or when they showed you pictures of him, this time it sounded foreign. Almost even forced, as if you shouldn’t be saying it.

Once you unlock the door and walk into your apartment, you receive a text from him.

EXO Kai > y/n 10:36pm: I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped like that, it’s just that being called Kai all the time makes me feel disconnected from people, you know? It’s like people see me only as Kai the idol and not Jongin, a regular person.

10:37pm: Kai is the side the fans and the media see and want while Jongin is just the sad guy behind the mask

10:37pm: Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have said that either. I’m just making this worse aren’t I?

You see the bubble pop up again, showing you that he was typing but before he can send you another message, you text him back.

y/n > EXO Kai 10:38pm: Jongin, it’s fine. I may not be an idol but I get what you mean

10:39pm: I didn’t know that even something like your stage name could have such a restraining feeling for you, and I’m sorry about that. But thank you for opening up to me

You see that he read your message but you don’t see him typing a response so you lock your phone and start your night routine, eventually forgetting to check your phone.

When you woke up the next morning, you saw that Kai, no, Jongin, you reminded yourself, texted you around midnight but you didn’t open his message until lunch when you were done with most of your classes for the day.

Jongin > y/n 12:16am: Goodnight y/n. I’m sorry I’m not the idol you always looked up to, but thank you for listening to me and respecting me as a person. Thank you, see you next week. I can’t wait to see what you have choreographed for me (⌒ω⌒)

And there it was again, the way he speaks so fondly towards you yet he still brings it back to work. You had to remind yourself that the relationship between the two of you is only because of work and that no matter what, you cannot develop feelings for him. It’s not like he’d have time for me anyways, I’m nothing special compared to those other girls he’s dated, you thought to yourself.

You spend the rest of the week doing your usual activities along with choreographing for the title track of Jongin’s album. Though the company sent you just the demo of the track, you could already tell that this sort of song was definitely his style. Sexy yet sweet. Hot but undeniably cool.

A month had passed since Jongin first confided in you about his idol dilemma. After teaching Jongin and the rest of the dancers the choreo you made for the title track, you were no longer needed quite as often in the practice room, which resulted in you seeing Jongin less as his preparations started to stack up in his schedule. He still made it a point to take you out for lunch or dinner, which surprised you since he didn’t necessarily need to keep up a relationship with you now that your part in the album production was over. It was at those times when you were reminded of the instance when he was dropping you off, that he’s human and has friends he hangs out with, you just might have gotten lucky and become one of them.

Your text message chat with him went back and forth between you two talking about the choreo and the comeback to deep late-night conversations like how Sehun saw a cockroach in the shower one night and ran out butt-naked, screaming. Just like your chat, your relationship with Jongin became more confusing as the line between business and friendship blurred even further. Jongin texts you late on a Wednesday night to come to the ‘cloud’ room, which you had mistakenly called it once after watching one too many of the old SM dance practice videos, tomorrow around noon. Similar to when the incident with his name occurred, his message didn’t have the cute emoticons you were used to him sending. You wondered if something in the choreo needed to be changed last minute and sent him a simple thumbs up to let him know you’d be there.

You spent the rest of your Wednesday night reanalyzing the choreo you made, trying to find any flaws that would have resulted in Jongin texting you so seriously and asking you to come in person instead of sending a video along with his questions as usual. By Thursday afternoon, you had a few things in mind that you could easily smooth over and your mind was flooded with different combos and formations to use as you walked through the building to the practice room you told Jongin you’d meet him at.

You entered without knocking since usually the whole team is at work and you don’t want to disrupt whatever they’re working on, so you quietly stepped in and closed the door but you yelped when you heard a loud bang from the area near the sound equipment. Glancing over, you spot Jongin with his balled-up fists on the table and realized the rest of the team wasn’t here. It was just you and him, which led to you being even more confused as to why he had asked you to come in. After hearing the noise you made, Jongin’s head perked up and found you, “oh, y/n, you came.” His tense features immediately relaxing into a loose half-smile where you could see just how tired he was. “I need help on the main part of the chorus. No matter how many times I do it, there just isn’t the right feeling with it and I don’t get it” he said, almost whining.

You sat against the mirror, watching him do it a few times until you got up and stood next to him, facing the mirror. “Jongin you’re treating it way too strictly. This is the chorus, not a dance break, just groove with it, have fun with it, you know?” You danced the part to further show your point.

“Groove with it? What do you mean ‘groove with it?’” He asked, confusion clearly evident on his face and in his voice.

“Relax and think about the song itself. Think about the meaning, the style of it, not the choreography” you responded. He did as you showed him and looked at you for approval. “Good, but keep that same intensity in your eyes from earlier.” He did it again, staring straight into your eyes through your reflection in the mirror, almost sending shivers down your body. You smiled to acknowledge that you liked it and Jongin’s face lit up, seeing as he finally perfected what he deemed to be the ‘killing point’ of the dance, as he had said when you first showed it to him.

After another hour, you and Jongin had gone over the entire dance and worked out any remaining questions he had for you. Just as the two of you were getting ready to leave and head over to the cafe, Jongin called out your name, coming to stand next to where you were packing up your bag.

“Hey Y/N...I-uh-wanted to tell you that I-um-I think-” he began, before you interrupted him, not wanting to hear him stuttering anymore.

“Jongin, do you want to go over something again? Is that what’s bothering you?”

“N-no, it’s just that I think, uh, I think I really like you...r dance...yeah...I really like your dance, the one you made for me in my album, uh haha yeah thank you.” His cheeks and ears started turning pink as he quickly turned around to go gather his things.

Did he just say what I thought he said, you asked yourself, no, he couldn’t have. There’s no way he’d say that. All it would do is hurt his career anyway, he wouldn’t do that. You silenced your thoughts and left the practice room with him to get dinner.

You ate with him at the cafe but your conversation didn’t seem to flow as naturally as it normally did. He kept looking at you like he wanted to say something but never did. The normal playful touches you usually shared weren’t there either and you hated yourself for noticing these things. This was probably just his way of nicely ending our relationship since he probably won’t be working with me again in the future.

As you both made your way down to your cars in the parking lot, Jongin stepped in front of you right after exiting the elevator, looking down at his feet like a little kid would when they’re being scolded.

“Y/N I’d like to thank you for working with me for my solo debut, it really means a lot to me,” this is where you think he’s going to just thank you and say goodnight, but he doesn’t, “I’d like to ask you if you’d come to the first broadcast next week Monday. I know you have class but I won’t be going on until later. You don’t have to if you don’t want to because I know you’re really busy being a student and all but-”

“Jongin, please, I would love to.” You said, saving the both of you from his endless ramblings.

When he finally meets your eyes he gives you a look full of cuteness and adoration be exclaiming, “Really?!”

“Yes, really.”

“Promise?!”

“Yes, Jongin. I promise I will be there.” He hugged you so tight you thought you were going to suffocate but before you could, he released you and skipped off in the direction of his car while happily giggling to himself, “goodnight y/n” he yelled, “see you on Monday.”

You slapped yourself for blushing at his cute outburst. He’s an idol, you’re not supposed to feel this warmth in your heart that yearned for him to hug you again, yet your mind constantly wandered to him during your whole drive back to your apartment.

As you were lying in bed, just about falling asleep, you got a text from Jongin.

Jongin > y/n 9:08pm: SHE SAID YES! (＠＾◡＾)

9:08pm: oh shit

9:08pm: sorry, that was meant for Baekhyun hyung

9:09pm: we were talking about a special girl (＃＞＜)

Your heart immediately dropped. It’s probably another girl he’s dating, seeing as how he’s dated other girl idols before. You knew that you shouldn’t be upset but you just were. It was at that moment that you realized your feelings towards Jongin. You quickly sent a simple ‘haha okay’ back, but his message left you wondering about the lucky girl he was talking about, hurt that you didn’t know who it was. He has no obligation to tell me anything, I’m only his choreographer, you told yourself, probably for the millionth time now.

Ever since that night, you hadn’t initiated a conversation with him though he still texted you occasionally. Sometimes it would be a goodnight message, other times it was just his late-night thoughts about how dogs would wear pants or what kind of sounds a koala makes. You didn’t want to admit it but that one text bothered you for the rest of the week, and as it got closer and closer to his first performance, the more you didn’t want to go. Almost as if Jongin was reading your mind, you received a text message from him.

Jongin > y/n 7:45pm: y/nnnnnn I can’t wait to see you tomorrow -\\3\\-

You were going to send another thumbs up again, but opted for a more cheerful ‘good luck!’ since you knew how much this meant to him and how hard he worked for this and you didn’t want to let your own feelings get in the way of his achievements. It’s not like you were going to be involved in his work much longer once his promotions ended. Maybe it was for the best if you just kept your feelings to yourself so he could go back to being just Kai, the idol, to you, and not the sweet and playful Jongin you had gotten to know and the one you had, unfortunately, fell for. Going to sleep that night was a huge struggle for you, constantly asking yourself if you were going to see him tomorrow or not. Eventually, you fell asleep before reaching a clear answer but knowing you’d have to decide tomorrow anyways

The next morning, you woke up to the sight of sunlight already filling your room, which was not a good sing. You quickly checked your phone and saw that you were already half an hour late to your first class along with noticing Jongin had sent you another message around 6AM though you didn’t read it since your first priority was to get to school. You turned your phone to Do Not Disturb mode and rushed through your morning routine, getting to school just as your second class was starting. After running in five minutes late and profusely apologizing to your professor, you took your normal seat in the back of the room, letting out a sigh of exhaustion.

Your lecture ended faster than you expected and as you waited in the line at the cafeteria you finally pulled out your phone to go through your notifications and saw that Jongin had sent you two more messages.

Jongin > y/n 6:13am: I’m so excited, i could barely even sleep! Good morning y/n, today’s the day! ＼(≧▽≦)／

Jongin > y/n 10:20am: We’re in the cafe ordering sandwiches to eat at the recording studio later. What do you want to drink? I can’t remember if it was the honey lemon tea or the honeydew milk tea (>_<)  

10:25am: y/nnnnn please answer meeeeee (╥_╥)

You couldn’t resist his cuteness and texted him back.

y/n > Jongin 10:27am: honey lemon :)

As soon as you hit send, you froze, realizing you had dug yourself into a hole, ultimately forcing yourself into going to the studio he would be performing at later. You were brought out of your dazed state when the person in the back of you cleared their throat loudly and you noticed it was your turn to order.

After you had ordered and received your food, you sat down and ate your lunch quickly, wanting to go to class and get your mind off of Jongin who was walking around up there as if he owned it.

The rest of your day went by quickly and as you got into your car, you let out a long sigh, not wanting to believe that you’d be going to the recording studio to support the man who not only held your heart in his hands but also unknowingly crushed it.

Once inside the studio, it was quite easy to find Jongin’s room, seeing all the staff rushing around with their SM lanyards on, similar to the one you had on. You walked into his room, expecting to be greeted by a loud Jongin, but instead, you were met with the blank stares of his fellow members, Chanyeol, Baekhyun, and Sehun. Baekhyun was the only one who acknowledged you while the other two simply looked back down at their phones, thinking you were another staff member. “Ah, so you must be the wonderful y/n that our Jonginnie is always talking about! That idiot is always telling us about you, we were just wondering when we’d be able to meet him. He may fall in love quickly but he does have good judgment if you know what I mean.”

Both of the other members immediately perked up upon realizing who you were as your cheeks turned a bright shade of pink after hearing Baekhyun’s words. “J-Jongin talks about me?”

Baekhyun let out one of his big laughs before responding, “All the time! I can’t believe it took him this long to ask you out.”

If it was even humanly possible, you swear you turned even more pink. “Oh, we’re not dating. I think you’ve got me confused with another girl.” Your mind flew back to the text Jongin had accidentally sent you and all your emotions were about to come flooding back to you.

At that moment, Jongin entered the room and walked right into you. Baekhyun caught you, preventing you from what would’ve been an embarrassing fall, however, he only took it as an opportunity to push you right back into Jongin’s arms while yelling, “Ya! Kim Jongin, you idiot! I didn’t raise you to be such a coward, just ask her out already!” He then proceeded to bulldoze both of you out of the room and close the door while Chanyeol and Sehun only laughed while recording the whole thing, probably to send in their group chat later for the others to see.

Once both of you processed what just happened, you and Jongin looked at each other and he immediately released you from his hold and looked at the ground. You took this moment to appreciate his stylists for doing such a good job. He was wearing a full navy blue suit, similar to the legendary red one he wore in the Love Shot music video, further accentuating the light brown contacts he had in his eyes. He brought his hands to your shoulders before taking a deep breath and meeting your eyes.

“Y/n-”

“Jongin-” you both said, at the same time.

“Oh, sorry, you go first.” You blurted out, your heart already racing.  

He lightly squeezed your shoulders before saying, “I don’t know how much they told you in there but I suppose you probably already know that I...like you.”

The look on your face told him otherwise. “Weren’t you texting Baekhyun about another girl? A ‘special girl?’ That text you accidentally sent me instead of Baekhyun...” You trailed off at the end, thinking about how stupid you must look.

Jongin dropped his hands to your waist as he threw his head back in laughter before looking back at you. “No, you silly, we were talking about you. You told me you’d come to my first performance, remember?” Everything began to come together for you and you couldn’t believe that Jongin, the perfect man in front of you, had been talking about you to his members and that he likes you. Jongin saved you from further embarrassment when his hands trailed off your waist to find your own hands as he intertwined your fingers and pulled you closer “I’ve tried so many times to do this but I was always too scared of what would happen.” Your eyes locked with his gorgeous hazel masked ones that made it even harder to look away. “I really like you but I didn’t know if you liked me back which is why I never had the strength to ask you out. I was afraid of rejection, but at this point, I don’t think I have much else to lose with what Baekhyun hyung just did. It’s okay if you don’t like me back, I just want-”

As usual, you had to stop his endless rambling, but this time you did it with a quick kiss on his cheek. “I like you too, Jongin.”

Your eyes briefly met his before he enveloped you in a bone-crushing hug. His lips next to your ear, whispering the words he never thought he’d be able to say to you. “Will you be mine?”

“Only if you’ll be my boyfriend.”

He let you go only briefly so he could cup your cheeks and land a light kiss on your lips, both of your eyes fluttering closed, only to reopen suddenly at the sound of the other three members cheering from the doorway, all of them holding their phones up and recording the scene in front of them. You tried to pull away from Jongin but he only grabbed your waist and pulled you even closer.

“Jongin what are you-” you began, already having experienced enough embarrassment for a whole lifetime.

“Shhhh, just follow my lead,” he muttered before kissing you again “come on, just ‘groove’ with it” he said, between kisses, imitating your own words, igniting a fire in you as you remember teasing him with it during one of your most intimate practicing sessions together and you started kissing him back, moving your lips with his, much to the members’ disgust.

“Ewww” Sehun whined, right before Baekhyun and Chanyeol made simultaneous coughing and gagging sounds.

Hearing their reactions, Jongin’s lips finally left yours, a playful smile on his face before pulling you into another hug, this one full of warmth and affection. “Thank you y/n, thank you for giving me this chance. I’ll make you happy, I promise.”

You pulled back to face him, “thank you too, Jongin. Maybe it’s just our thing to ‘groove’ together” you said, bringing a finger up and playfully booping his nose.

He rolled his eyes at you before pushing your head back into his shoulder and letting you both enjoy the feeling of each other’s embrace, momentarily forgetting about the other three men standing in the doorway until they started making repulsive noises again.

A/N - This is the reworked version of ‘a dance to remember’ which I wrote when I was about 15 years old. That piece itself is based on a dream I had about EXO. This essentially is a fic written about a fic written about a dream so I’m sorry if it seems kinda disjointed. Any feedback at all is welcomed :)

#EXO fanfic #kai fanfic #exo kai fanfic #exo fluff #kpop fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop fluff #exo scenarios #exo imagines #kai scenarios #kai imagine #kai fluff #exo kai scenario #exo kai fluff #exo kai imagine #fluff #exo #exo kai #exo jongin #exo kim jongin #jongin #kim jongin #groove

[thekillerssluts]

Will Butler explains how his Harvard degree developed into his second solo album

“Yeah, it’s terrifying,” Will Butler says, pondering how it feels to be releasing music away from the umbrella of Arcade Fire.

“It’s the classic thing about all writers,” he continues. “The creative process makes them wanna puke the whole time they’re writing something, then they read something back and it makes them feel worse, then a year later they read it and think ‘yeah, it’s okay’. It’s a glorious experience, but it really makes your stomach hurt.”

On the one hand Will Butler is well accustomed to this writing process, being a multi-instrumentalist in the Canadian indie-rock band fronted by brother Win - Arcade Fire. But on his own terms, it’s an entirely new process. Butler’s second solo album Generations arrives five years after his debut Policy, a collection that rattled with a ramshackle charm and what he describes now as a ‘consciously very unproduced’ sound. Arcade Fire wound down from their Everything Now tour in September 2018, leaving Butler with the last two years of playtime. Most musicians, particularly those accustomed to big album cycles, set aside their downtime for family or other musical projects. Somehow Butler’s managed to do both while also completing a masters degree in Public Policy at Harvard.

“I went to school for a variety of reasons but there was an artistic side to it too,” he says. “I have always tried to let music and lyrics emerge from the world that I’m in; you fertilise the soil and see what grows. It was a way to better understand where we are, how we got here and what's going on. You know, ‘where am I from? What's going to happen?’” Both of these questions explored in his degree are used as fuel for Generations.

It’s easy to imagine an album by somebody who’s just pursued a Public Policy MSt to form in reams of political commentary, probably set to an acoustic guitar. However, Butler instead engages character portraits soundtracked by a broad range of thrilling sonics. Opener “Outta Here” is shrouded by a monstrous bass that lurks beneath the depths of the instrumentation before bursting out midway through. “Got enough things on my plate without you talking about my salvation,” he screams.

While the cage-rattling “Bethlehem” is mania underpinned by a thrashing guitar and bubbling synths that help lift the track to boiling point.While there’s no current world leaders namechecked or any on-the-nose political commentary across the LP, the angst of its contents is instantly tangible, backed by the intellect of somebody who’s spent the past few years studying the ins and outs of government processes. A perfect combination, you could say.

This fuel was partly discovered through Butler reconnecting with the music that defined his teenage years: namely Bjork, The Clash and Eurythmics. While these influences certainly slip into frame across Generations, they were paired with something of an unlikely muse: “I got into this habit of listening to every single song on the Spotify Top 50 every six weeks,” Butler explains. “So many of them are horrible, terrifying and just awful but there’s something inspiring about how god damn avant garde the shittiest pop music is now. Just completely divorced from any sense of reality - it’s just layers upon layers upon layers - it’s amazing. It’s like Marcel Duchamp making a pop hit every single song.”

We turn from current music to current events. Navigating Covid-19 with his wife and three kids in their home of Brooklyn, a majority of 2020 has been caught up in family time for Butler. “The summer’s been easier because everybody’s outside, whereas in spring it was like ‘it’s family time because we have to lock our doors as there's a plague outside.’” While being surrounded by the trappings of lockdown since his second solo album Generations was completed in March, the album itself wriggles with the spirit of live instrumentation, which at this point seems like some sort of relic from a bygone era."I think eventually rediscovering this album back in the live setting would be amazing - we’re a really great live band, it’s a shame to not be in front of people."

The source of this energy can be traced back to the way the songs came together; they were forged and finessed at a series of shows in the early stages of the project. “It just raises the stakes. You can tell how good or how dumb a lyric is when you sing it in front of a hundred people,” he reflects. “It’s like ‘are you embarrassed because what you’re saying is true?’ or ‘is it just embarrassing?’ It’s a good refiner for that stuff. I think eventually rediscovering this album back in the live setting would be amazing - we’re a really great live band, it’s a shame to not be in front of people.”

Like his day job in Arcade Fire, Butler’s solo live group is something of a family affair - both his wife and sister-in-law feature in the band, alongside Broadway's West Side Story star, and the student of the legendary Fela Kuti drummer, Tony Allen. Together this eclectic mix of musicians conjures an infectious spirit through the raw combination of thundering synths and pedal-to-the-metal instrumentation; an apt concoction indeed for lyrics that are attempting to unhatch the bamboozling questions that surround our current times.

The timing for Butler’s decision to study Public Policy couldn’t have been more perfect, with his course starting in the Fall of 2016. “I was at Harvard for the election which was a really bizarre time to be in a government school, but it was great to be in a space for unpacking questions like ‘my god, how did we get here?!’” he reflects, with a note of mockery in the bright voice.

“I had a course taught by a professor named Leah Wright Rigueur. The class was essentially on race in America but with an eye towards policy. The class explored what was going to happen in terms of race under the next president. The second to last week was about Hilary Clinton and the last week was about Donald Trump. We read riot reports - Ferguson in 2015, Baltimore in 2016, the Detroit uprisings in the ‘60s and Chicago in 1919 - it's certainly helping me understand the last 5 years, you know. Just to be in that context was very lucky.”

As we’ve seen with statues being toppled, privileges being checked and lyrics of national anthems being interrogated in recent months, history is a complex, labyrinthine subject to navigate requiring both ruthless self-scrutiny and a commitment to the long-haul in order to correct things. The concept of Generations shoots from the same hip employing character portraits to engage in the broader picture.

The writing, at times, is beamed from a place of disconnect (“had enough of bad news / had enough of your generation”), from a place of conscious disengagement (“I’m not talking because I don’t feel like lying / if you stay silent you can walk on in silence”) and from a place of honest self-assessment (“I was born rich / three quarters protestant / connections at Harvard and a wonderful work ethic”).

“I’m rooted in history to a fault,” he says. “My great grandfather was the last son of a Mormon pioneer who’d gone West after being kicked out of America by mob violence. He wanted to be a musician which was crazy - he got 6 months in a conservatory in Chicago before his first child was born. He always felt like he could have been a genius, he could of been writing operas but he was teaching music in like tiny western towns and he had all these kids and he made them be a family band and they were driving around the American west before there were roads in the deserts - literally just driving through the desert! He would go to these small towns and get arrested for trying to skip bills and just live this wild existence.”

Butler’s grandma, meanwhile, was just a child at this point. She went on to become a jazz singer with her sisters and married the guitar player Alvino Rey. “The fact that me and my brother are musicians is no coincidence,” he smiles. “It’s not like I decided to be a musician, it’s down to decisions that were made at the end of the 19th century that have very clearly impacted where I am today. The musical side of it is very beautiful, it is super uncomplicated and a total joy to have a tradition of music in our family...but also in the American context - which is the only context I know - it's also these very thorny inheritances from the 19th century and beyond that influence why my life is like it is.

“For me it’s like, ‘I made my money because my grandpa was a small business owner’ or ‘my grandpa was a boat builder and got a pretty good contract in WW2 and was able to send his kids to college’. Both of which are so unpoetic and unromantic but it is an important thing to talk about, that's a personal political thing to talk about; there's horrifying and beautiful aspects there.”

The lament of “I’m gonna die in a hospital surrounded by strangers who keep saying they’re my kids” on “Not Gonna Die” could well be croaked by somebody on the tail end of a life lived on the American Dream. At times, Butler plays the characters off against each other, like on “Surrender,” which chronicles two flawed characters going back and forth played by Butler’s lead vocals and his female backing singers that undermine his memory; “I remember we were walking” is cut up with the shrug of “I dunno” and “maybe so”. “I found having the backing voices there gave me something to play with,” he explains. “Either something threatening to the main character or something affirming to the main character, just providing another point of view.”

Elsewhere, “I Don’t Know What I Don’t Know” explores the feeling of being unsuitably equipped to unravel the complexities that surrounds us day-to-day. “The basic emotion of that song is very much ‘I don’t know what I can do’ which is an emotion we all have,” he ponders. “There’s also the notion that follows that, like ‘maybe don’t even tell me what to do because it’s going to be too overwhelming to even do anything’.”

Some of these portraits materialised in the aftershows Butler began hosting while on Arcade Fire’s Everything Now tour which found him instigating conversations and talks by local councilman, politicians and activists on local issues. “On some of the good nights of the aftershow town halls, you’d feel that switch away from despair and into action,” he says smiling. “The step between despair and action is possible, that sentiment isn’t spelled out lyrically on the record but it’s definitely there spiritually.”

“I learned anew what a treasure it is to have people in a room. Getting humans in a room can be absurd. And we were having from 5,000 to 15,000 people in a room every night, most of them local. I’m very comfortable with art for art’s sake; I think art is super important and it’s great people can like music that's not political. It was sort of like ‘well we’re here and I know a lot of you are thinking about the world and you’re thinking about what a shit show everything is. You want to know what we can do and I also want to know what we can do!’ So I put on these after shows.”"The dream lineup would be to have a local activist and a local politician talking about a local issue because that’s the easiest way to make concrete change."

Butler would find a suitable location near the Arcade Fire gig through venue owners who were often connected to the local music and comedy scenes to host these events. “The dream lineup would be to have a local activist and a local politician talking about a local issue because that’s the easiest way to make concrete change. Arguably, the most important way is through the city council and state government. The New York state government is in Albany, New York. The shit that happens in Albany is all super important so I wanted to highlight that and equip people with some concrete levers to pull.

“In Tampa we had people who were organizing against felon disenfranchisement, like if you’ve been convicted of a felon you couldn’t vote in Florida, and something absurd like 22% of black men in Florida couldn’t vote and there were people organising to change that - this was in 2018 - and you could just see people being like ‘holy shit, I didn't even know this was happening!’

“These were not topics I’m an expert in - it’s like these are things that are happening. The thought was trying to engage, I’m sad to not be doing something similar this Fall, I mean what a time it would have been to go around America.”

Understandably the looming 2020 election is on Butler’s radar. “It doesn't feel good,” he sighs. “I’ve never had any ability to predict, like 2 weeks from now the world could be completely different from what it is today. There was always a one-in-a-billion chance of the apocalypse and now it's like a one-in-a-million chance which is a thousand times more likely but also unlikely. It’s going to be a real slog in the next couple of years on a policy side, like getting to a place where people don’t die for stupid reasons, I’m not even talking about the coronavirus necessarily just like policy in general. Who knows, it could be great but it seems like it's going to be a slog.”

There’s a moment on the closing track “Fine”, a stream-of-consciousness, Randy Newman-style saloon waltz, where Butler hits the nail on the head. “George [Washington], he turned to camera 3, he looked right at me and said...I know that freedom falters when it’s built with human hands”. It’s one of the many lyrical gems that surface throughout the record but one that chimes with an undeniable truth. It’s the same eloquence that breaks through as he touches on the broad ranging subjects in our conversation, always with a bright cadence despite the gloom that hangs over some of the topics.

The live show is without a doubt Arcade Fire’s bread and butter. While Butler questions how realistic the notion of getting people in packed rooms in the near future is, he reveals the group are making movements on LP6. “Arcade Fire is constantly thinking about things and demoing, it's hard to work across the internet but at some point we’ll get together. It probably won’t be much longer than our usual album cycle,” he says.

You only have to pick out one random Arcade Fire performance on YouTube to see Butler’s innate passion bursting out, whether it’s early performances that found him and Richard Reed Parry adorning motorbike helmets annihilating each other with drumsticks to the 1-2-3 beat of “Neighbourhood #2 (Laika)” or the roaring “woah-ohs” that ascend in the anthem of “Wake Up” every night on tour. It’s an energy that burns bright throughout our conversation and across Generations.

https://www.thelineofbestfit.com/features/interviews/arcade-fires-will-butler-new-solo-record-generations

#Arcade Fire #generations #will butler #interview #hq

[i-write-sometimes-blog]

Dinner with the Solos (Rey x Reader High School AU)

Request: this was not. But people asked for more highschool AU.

Words: 1,735

A/N: just a bit of fluff and a lots of Solo reader and big brother Ben content.

The sun was already setting as you walked down the streets, keeping Rey’s hand secure in your own. The closer you got to the house the more nervous you were, this was the very first time you were taking someone to dinner with your family, the very first time with Rey as your girlfriend.

“You okay?” she asked you seeing the concerned in your face.

“Yeah” you sighed and give a tiny squeeze to her hand, stopping in front of your house noticing a very particular car that wasn’t there this morning, your dad’s car.

The nervous feeling in your body grew with the discover of this new information, usually he was not home but when he was the days would become fights and screams between your brother and father. You didn’t need this right now.

“Listen, my family can be a little too… chaotic sometimes” you told her. “And they ask a lot of questions… and...” Rey placed her hands carefully on your shoulders.

“Calm down, Y/N” she told you with a happy face “We have been through a lot, babe. This is just a dinner, we’ll be fine” she said trying to comfort you.

“Okay” you said. She always knew how to cheer you up, couldn’t wish for a better girl. Together you took the final steps to the door and just when you were about to open it the door opened from the inside and you caught your dad’s face.

“Dad!” you rushed to Han and pulled into a hug. You haven’t seen him in at least a month, always busy with his work, you didn’t always had the chance to see him, or at least not as often as you’d like to, but being a pilot meant traveling all the time and you knew it.

“I’m happy to see you too, kid” he chuckled and then he look at Rey smiling for the sight of you being happy with your dad, secretly wishing she had a connection like that with the father she never got to meet. Your old man extended a hand to pull Rey into the hug with you.

“How you been doing, Rey?” he asked when the hug was over and you started walking towards the table.

“Great” she said “I had some trouble with some school subjects but Y/N is alway there to help me” she said giving to that heartwarming smile of hers that made you blush slightly.

“Mom, we’re here” you yelled.

“Coming” you heard her voice from the kitchen and moments later she was there greeting Rey with a warm hug. Oh yes, your family really liked your girlfriend.

“It’s good to see you, Rey” she said. “I’m just finishing some things up, dinner will be ready soon” she informed.

“Do you need a hand?” Rey offered with a kind smile, she was like that always trying to help people, what a kind soul. “I can help”

“No, don’t worry” Leia told her “Why don’t you wait with Y/N until I’m done”

“Alright” she said turning to you. Giggling you both rushed to your room, her feet walking fast through your house well knowing the way to your room from memory of the thousand times she had been there with you.

Both dropped your bags as soon as you reached the privacy of your room, the idea of this dinner to be a disaster still spinning inside your head. You just wanted a nice night with your family and the girl you loved. Rey stared at you trying to understand the things going on with you, her precious hazel eyes desperately searching for answers.

“Babe, you sure you’re okay? You seem a bit worried” she finally said sliding her hand to cup the side of your face.

“I’m fine, just thinking” you told her with a chuckle “Never thought I’d be able to bring you here as my girlfriend without starting a war” you look at her. “A part of me sometimes thinks I’m dreaming and I fear…” you stopped for a moment. “I fear my family won’t accept me, accept us” you said.

“Y/N, your family loves you. There’s no way they would do a thing like that, and even if that happen, which won’t, I’m gonna still be here for you” she told you. She more than anyone understand you and that sometimes a bit of anxiety could hit you with negative thoughts, fortunately she made sure to always comfort you. “I love you, Y/N” she said looking you into your eyes.

“I love you, Rey” you said a smile finally adorning your face. What would you do without her? she was everything you could ever have asked for and so much more. You closed the distance between you with a sweet kiss, savoring every moment. Her free hand reaching for you hips to pull you closer to her warm body.

“Gross” said a deep voice leaning on the door frame of your room that made your brake the kiss and turn to find your brother with an annoyed expression on his face.

“Fuck! You ever knock?” you yelled to him, your face going red.

“The door was open” Ben said.”If you two wanted to make out at least close the damn door, for fuck’s sake!” he said in a very irritated tone.

“What do you want?” asked Rey serious.

“Dinner’s ready” He said before walking away, as soon as you didn’t hear his heavy boots anymore Rey and you bursted laughing before making your way to the dinner table.

The things there started very quiet, a bit of tension on the air that made you slightly anxious again but thanks to Han it slowly left your body. Engines and mechanic, that’s how the conversation started Rey and your dad seemed to have a thing for the way the oil could get in their hands and you already knew that but seeing them laughing over some mechanic joke was heartwarming so you relaxed and enjoyed the sight.

“So, how is it to be a pilot, Mr. Solo?” asked Rey with that light of curiosity in the eyes.

“Just Han” said your dad with a wink “It’s awesome, nothing compares with the beauty of the sky” he said winning a laugh from your mother. “Except my wife, of course” he said with a smirk that made Leai shook her head.

“How romantic, laser brain” she replied with sarcasm in her words.

“It’s a big responsibility, your flying with a lot of lives on your hands and the smallest wrong move could be terrible” said Han looking back at Rey “I love flying, but sometimes when I’m up in the clouds I just want to get back to my family” he said.

“Oh do you?” said Ben with a anger on his voice.

“Ben speaks! This is a miracle!” joked your dad only making your brother a bit more angry.

“You’re not here most of the time” he declared “If that would be really true you’d be here”

“Ben, don’t start now” said Leia looking him with a warning gaze.

“Yeah, Ben. Dad has alway been here when we needed him” you said giving your dad a warm smile.

“He missed your birthday” your brother hastened to respond and then he took a big bite of his food.

“He missed your birthday?” Rey asked very surprised her eyes went from you to Han and then stayed on you waiting for the answer.

“Of course not!” you shook your head and sipped your drink before you started to explain the story to Rey. “I was like nine and I was having this amazing superhero themed party. Dad was in the other side of the planet and was supposed to be here the night before”

“She waited for him in the couch till midnight” interrupted Ben “Y/N was so excited for him to be in her party. Then he called and said he was not gonna be here because the idiot lost the fly”

“Ben” your mother tried to stop him.

“I was the one who had to see her cry, the one who comforted her because her stupid dad couldn’t make it home” Ben almost yelled, that was a memory you couldn’t forget one of the most lovely you kept from your childhood when Ben and you were close, some years before he became Kylo Ren and built a wall between him and the rest of the world, a wall that was slowly breaking down as you two started to talk more.

“So you do have a heart” said Rey looking at your brother “I thought you didn’t care about anyone else than you”

“Nobody makes my sister cry” he responded “That counts for you too, Rey, you better not break her heart” he said and then he gave you a tiny wink and you smiled back at him

“As I was saying” you raised your voice “He called and apologized. And I went to bed all let down and sad because of that. The next morning when I woke up he was home” you said giggling.

“Hell yeah I was” chuckled Han.

“He had to catch a fly at 4 am and made it just in time. Sometimes he does have a brain” explained your mother.

“I was so happy when I saw him, I believe it was the best party I’ve ever had” you continued. “It was awesome”

“Yeah, it was” Ben admitted. “Specially when you fell on the cake” he laughed, an authentic laugh, you rolled your eyes and throwed a piece of bread to him, provoking a collective laugh that filled the room with a sensation of happiness. Your eyes lied on the brunette girl by your side as her precious laugh kept sounding, a beautiful melody to your ears. This girl had changed your whole life, everyday you spent with her was always filled with joy and love, she gave you the chance to be yourself by loving you, adoring every insecurity you had and helping you get through them. Never imagined she would also help your family too, right there laughing it felt like it used to be in the past and you couldn’t thank her enough.But for that moment you just took her hand that was resting on the table, entangling your fingers with hers as you gave it a slight squeeze, happy to have her on your life.

#rey of jakku #rey star wars #rey x reader #rey x y/n #i-write-sometimes-blog #rey of nowhere #rey x you #star wars imagine #star wars #rey #rey imagine #solo reader #ben solo #ben's sister #ben #kylo's sister #kylo #kylo ren #han solo #general leia #leia organa #rey high school #high school au

[thorne93]

Inside The Criminal Mind (Part 21)

Prompt: You’re married to Dr. Spencer Reid of the BAU, and are a distinguished doctor yourself on the team. You’re sent down to Miami, Florida for teaching and as a side request from the FBI, to investigate a string of missing persons. When you think you’ve figured out who the unsub is, your life becomes more complicated than you ever could’ve imagined.

Word Count: 1831

Warnings: (throughout the fic –>) death, blood, gore, killings, language, disturbing mental notions, mentions of rapes/murder/etc (You know, Dexter and Criminal Minds related business)

Notes: Thank you so much to @arrow-guy​​​​​​, @carryonmyswansong​​​​​​, and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​​​ - without each of you, I couldn’t have finished, written, or properly navigated this story. Each of you helped me fish out details that were incredibly important to me. Beta’d by @carryonmyswansong​​​​​​ and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​​​… Aesthetic by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​​​

This is a crossover of Criminal Minds x Dexter. First time writing Dexter.

Also, the timeline is after Season 1 of Dexter, but during season 14-ish of Criminal minds into Season 15. Enjoy!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was several days early, nearly a week. You stopped by Dexter’s work before leaving, giving him a hug, telling him you’d update him as soon as you could. He nodded and thanked you for being a good friend and apprentice. 

You boarded a civilian plane back home. You worked it out with the university to have your last exams proctored by someone else. You grabbed everything you could, packed it in your suitcases, and headed home. Spencer wasn’t expecting you, and he might even be angry but right now, you were being selfish, so you didn’t care if he was ready for you or not.

You texted Emily, asking if they were in town or not. She might’ve wondered why you didn’t just ask Spence, so you prefaced it with it being a surprise and that you and Spence weren’t talking much since you were busy with finals. She informed you everyone was at the office, and expected to wrap up around six. 

To this, you went ahead and headed home. You dropped your suitcases inside the dining room, out of sight, so that when Spence came in, he would see you first. 

You waited for what seemed like centuries. You had no idea how he would react. He might even try to throw you out of the house, which you wouldn’t even know how to respond if he did. 

Finally, a key turned in the lock and he came in. Your heart was all but hammering out of your chest as your palms got clammy. You got up from the couch and walked to stand in the archway between the foyer and the living room. Spence turned, dropping his keys in the bowl, his face forlorn before he caught you out of the corner of his eye. 

He slightly jumped. “Y/N? What are you doing here? I thought you had more classes?” he asked evenly. 

“I do. I… I got another professor to proctor them,” you explained, wanting to close the gap between you two so badly that it hurt.  

Spencer frowned. “So why are you here?” 

“I was… I was having dinner with Dexter, and he said that if you were going to turn me in, that I should use my last days doing what I want, whatever makes me happiest. I thought about it, about what I’d want to want to do with my last days of freedom,” you informed, taking a few steps closer, wringing your hands nervously. You couldn’t help it, wanting to be closer to him. If he didn’t like it, he was going to have to shoot you, because you couldn't stand it any more. “And I want you. I want to be with you. Spend time with you. I don’t care if you have to pretend to like me, swallow your hate for me. I just want you, I want us, again, for a few days. Just before you turn me in. I know you don’t owe me anything but I’d have these days anyway, according to you. And… and that’s what I want from them… time with you,” you told him, a little bit out of breath.

You braced now for his total rejection. That’s all that was logical. Spencer wouldn’t, he couldn’t possibly entertain this idea. But you felt he had to know. 

“I’m not turning you in,” he suddenly started, dropping his bag on the floor casually.

“You’re not?” you asked, stunned. “Why not?” 

He let out a breath and said, “I’ve thought about it… and I understand where you’re coming from.”

Shock, more than joy flooded your system. Sure, you felt relieved, but this was certainly a surprise. 

“You… you do?”

He gestured towards the couch and you followed him.

“When I was in prison and I saw them kill Luis right in front of me… something in me snapped. I think between being falsely accused, watching the violence unfold, and the stress of our job, I just snapped. I wanted revenge. I’d never felt that before, but here was my friend, who got murdered in front of me. It’s like when we wanted revenge on Foyett, or Doyle. I felt that, sure. Morgan did too. That’s why we exhausted everything to find them. But we didn’t plan on killing them. Part of me wanted them gone, with no chance of getting out of prison but I knew that wasn’t right and it would make me the same as them.” 

“So… then why in prison…” 

“I guess because I felt trapped. In there, there is no law. It’s favors, bribes, nepotism. It’s about who knows who. Telling guards wouldn’t have mattered. Telling the team wouldn’t have mattered. It’d be just another prison shanking. But inside, I could do something about it, give Luis some sort of justice. In there, I wasn’t Spencer Reid BAU agent - I was Spencer Reid, wrongly committed felon being targeted. So I turned into something else, and when I listened to the part of me that said Luis deserved justice…. Well I gave it to him the only way I knew how.” 

“That’s… kind of what I’ve been doing with Dex. You wondered why he doesn’t just turn it over to the cops? Well he doesn’t exactly use legal channels. He breaks into homes to find proof, checks their cars, fakes identities, he goes through great lengths to prove their guilt. Things we can’t do on this side of the system. There’s no way we’d ever be granted a warrant for some of the people he’s found. Like, this one guy was a car salesman right, these two brunettes went in trying to buy a car from him. He had their home address, their name, he knew they were single…Dexter discovered that Hicks ran credit checks on the women to get insight into their private lives, finding out if they lived in homes or apartments and if they had any pets, making it easier to identify which women would be easier targets. Hicks covered his tracks by getting the women a deal at another car dealer, thus hiding his own presence in the paper trail.” You bit your lip as you tried to muster the courage to say the next part. “Spence, he went in their homes and brutally raped and murdered them. Cops had no real leads. They had DNA, sure, but this guy wasn’t in the system. Dex went, pretended he was a customer, and there, he met Hicks’ probable next victim. So he struck that night. The guy confessed to it all.”

Spencer sat there nodding. “I don’t doubt that he’s got a solid means of finding and disposing of these people, Y/N. And you’ve explained he’s just… built this way.”

“Yeah, without the code his cop father gave him, he’d be another one of our unsubs.”

“Y/N, he is one of our other unsubs,” he stressed as a reminder. “But what I want to know is… what about you? Is this just how you are or is this just the job getting to you or… where does this newfound compulsion come from?”

“Well, it’s not a compulsion. I could stop, if I wanted to,” you explained. “I just… feel good knowing that ultimately we are saving lives. Like I said, we can’t get all of these people over to the cops and even if we did, most would just bail out of jail until their trial and possibly kill again. I honestly feel like I am just doing my job without all the red tape and chance for them to do it again.”

He sat across from you, pressing his lips together. 

“I know, I sound like every delusional unsub we’ve ever had. That I have a cause and mine’s worthy, but if you say you could go to a darker part of yourself when you were in prison, feeling like your back is against the wall, then I feel like I’m doing the same thing. My back is against the wall with my hands tied out here, waiting on warrants, hoping juries find them guilty, and so… this is what I turned to. Vigilante justice.” 

“And I understand that. I thought about it and I can’t… I can’t really judge you when I did the same thing.” 

A long awkward pause filled the air before you finally spoke, the waiting killing you.

“So… what do we do now?” you asked, holding your breath. 

“Seeing as I attempted murder in jail, and you did it out here… I think we’re even.” 

“And Dex?”

“He’s free to live in Miami. We all will just forget the whole thing and go back to our lives. You give up everything you know, everything he taught you, and he can go back to his life down there.” 

You eyed him up and down. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

He took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah. I can’t say I blame you. Since prison and Cat, and the whole Ben’s Believers and getting abducted… I can’t say homicide hasn’t crossed my mind a time or two.” 

You bobbed your head. “Right… And what about us? Are we going to go back to normal? Do I need to sleep in the guest room for a while?” 

“I have… no idea. I look at you and see my wife, then I remember what you did… and how you lied to me about it for months…” 

All you could do was nod, biting your lip as you kept the tears back. 

“I know, that was the worst part.” 

“Lying to me?”

You raised your head to face him properly. “Yeah. I know, it sounds fucked up and twisted. I was killing people. But honestly, coming home to you, seeing you, and lying about what I was doing, who I was… It was horrible. Regardless of what I did, what I am, I do love you. I’d take a bullet for you. I still miss your smile, I still love your laugh, I still pray for you to tell me random facts. Whether you believe me or not, I am very much in love with you.”

He smiled slightly. “I believe you.” 

You chewed your lip before adding. “Even if you turned me in, I wouldn’t fault you or hate you. I’d love you all the same.” 

He merely nodded his head a few times. “I know.”

A faint smile ghosted your lips. “Well… you’ve had a long day at work. I’ll, uh, I’ll let you get ready for bed and I’ll go put my things up in the guest room.” 

He nodded and you two went your separate ways for the most part. You put the items in your suitcase up while Spencer readied himself for bed. 

It wasn’t ideal. And his coolness towards you stung to your core.

But at least you weren’t going to prison or getting a divorce. So, all in all, this was the best case scenario.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tagging:

Forever Tag:

@essie1876​

@magpiegirl80​

@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​

@iamwarrenspeace​

@marvel-imagines-yes-please​

@superwholocked527

@missinstantgratification​

@thejemersoninferno​​​​​​​

@rda1989​​​​​​​

@munlis​​​​​​​

@thefridgeismybestie​​​​​​​

@bubblyanarocks3​​​​​​​

@igiveupicantthinkofausername​​​​​​​

@kaliforniacoastalteens​​​​​​​

@feelmyroarrrr​​​​​​​​

@kaeling

@friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo​​​​​​​

@damalseer​​​​​​​

@heyitscam99​​​​​​​

@yknott81​​​​​​​

@thelittlebigirl​​​​​​​

@glitterquadricorn​​​​​​​

@xxqueenofisolationxx

@little-dis-kaalista-pythonissama

@bittersweetunicorm​​​​​​​

@alyssaj23​​​​​​​

@sea040561​​​​​​​

@princess76179​​​​​​​

@thisismysecrethappyplace​​​​​​​

@sarahp879​​​​​​​

@malfoysqueen14​​​​​​​

@ellallheart​​​​​​​

@breezy1415​​​​​​​

@marvelmayo​​​​​​​

@paintballkid711​​​​​​​

Spencer Reid

@camigt1999​​​​​​​

@ultrarebelheart​​​​​​​

@lenawiinchester​​​​​​​

@esoltis280​​

ITCM

@arganfics​​

#inside the criminal mind #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid #dexter #dexter morgan #dexter fic

[weekendwarriorblog]

The Weekend Warrior Christmas - New Year’s Edition – WONDER WOMAN 1984, NEWS OF THE WORLD, PROMISING YOUNG WOMAN, ONE NIGHT IN MIAMI..., PIECES OF A WOMAN, HERSELF, SYLVIE’S LOVE and More!

Welcome to the VERY LAST Weekend Warrior of the WORST YEAR EVER!!! But hopefully not the last column forever, even though I already plan on taking much of January off from writing 8 to 10 reviews each week. It just got to be too much for a while there.

Because it’s the last week of the year, there are a lot of really good movies, some in theaters but also quite a few on streaming services. In fact, there are a good number of movies that appeared in my Top 10 for the yearover at Below the Line, as well as my extended Top 25 that I’ll share on this blog sometime next week. I was half-hoping to maybe write something about the box office prospects of some of the new movies, but after the last couple weeks, it’s obvious that box office is not something that will be something worth writing about until sometime next spring or summer.

(This column is brought to you by Paul McCartney’s new album “McCartney III” which I’m listening to as I finish this up… and then other solo Beatles ditties picked for me randomly by Tidal.)

First up is easily one of the most anticipated movies of the year, or at least one that actually didn’t move to 2021, and that’s WONDER WOMAN 1984 (Warner Bros.), Patty Jenkins’ sequel to the 2017 hit, once again starring Gal Gadot as Diana Prince. I reviewed it here, but basically the sequel introduces Wonder Woman arch-nemeses Barbara Minerva aka Cheetah, as played by Kristen Wiig, and Pedro Pascal’s Max Lord and how an ancient artifact gives them both their powers, as well as helps to bring Diana’s true love Steve Trevor (Chris Pine) back despite him having disappeared presumed dead in WWI. As you can see by reading my review, I thought it was just fine, not great and certainly not something I’d make an attempt to see a second time in a 25% capacity movie theater. Fortunately, besides debuting in around 2,100 movie theaters across the nation, it will also be on HBO Max day and date, which has caused quite a stir. Being Christmas weekend with no work/school on Monday, I can see it still making somewhere between $10 and 12 million, but I can’t imagine it doing nearly what it might have done with most theaters only 25-30% full at the maximum and that theater count being roughly half the number it might have gotten during the “normal times.”

Paul Greengrass’ Western NEWS OF THE WORLD (Universal) reteams him with his Captain Phillips star Tom Hanks, this time playing Captain Jefferson Kidd, a Civil War soldier who travels from town to town in the Old West reading from newspapers to anyone who has a dime and time to listen. After one such reading, he discovers a young girl (Helena Zengel) on her own, having spent the last few years with a family of Native Americans who were killed by soldiers. Together, they travel across America as Kidd hopes to bring the girl to her last surviving family members.

I already reviewed Greengrass’ movie for Below the Line, and I also  spoke to Mr. Greengrass, an interview you can read that right here (once it goes live), but I make no bones that this was one of my favorite movies I’ve seen this year, and it’s not just due to the fine work by Greengrass and his team. No, it’s just as much about the emotion inherent in the story, and the relationship between the characters played by Hanks and Zengel.  

I’ve watched the movie three times now, and I’m still blown away by every frame and moment, the tension that’s created on this difficult journey but also where it leaves the viewers at the end that promises that there can be hope and joy even in the most difficult and turbulent times. It’s a wonderful message that’s truly needed right now.

Listen, I’m not gonna recommend going to a movie theater if you don’t feel it’s safe – I’ve already spoken my peace on this at a time when COVID numbers were much lower – but this is a movie that I personally can’t wait to see in a movie theater. I honestly can’t see the movie making more than $3 or 4 million in the open theaters considering how few people are willing to go to movie theaters. Obviously, this isn’t as big a draw as Wonder Woman, but it is a fantastic big screen movie regardless.

Also opening in theaters this Friday is Emerald Fennell’s directorial debut PROMISING YOUNG WOMAN (Focus Features), starring the wonderful Oscar-nominated Carey Mulligan as Cassie Thomas, a woman who has revenge on her mind. Cassie spends her nights picking up guys in bars by pretending she’s so drunk she can barely walk, then humiliating them and presumably worse. When she encounters an acquaintance from med school in the form of Bo Burnham’s Ryan, the two begin dating, though he ends up awakening a darker side to Cassie that seeks revenge for something that happened back during their school days. (Honestly, if you’re already sold, just skip to the next movie. That’s all I want you to know before watching it.)

I was ready to love Fennell’s movie when it opened with a disgusting shot of gross stock market bros in loose-fitting suits gyrating in slow motion before one of them tries to pick up a totally soused Cassie at the club. It’s a scene that really plays itself out quite well, and then leads into Mulligan’s character allowing another clear scumbag (played by Christopher Mintz-Plasse, maybe as a slight-older McLovin?) before turning the tables on him as well.

There’s going to be a lot of talk about this movie after people see it, since it’s one of those great films that begins a lot of conversations. I imagine most women of a certain age will love it, but some men might see themselves in some of the characters (even Burnham’s) and wonder whether Cassie just won’t take crap from any man or if she’s a full-on misandrist. One thing we do know a lot is that she does this sort of thing a lot, and there’s something from her past that has driven her involving something that happened to her female friend in med school. I’m going to stop talking about the plot here, because I definitely don’t want to spoil anything who hasn’t seen the movie, but the second half of the movie is as deeply satisfying as Tarantino’s Kill Bill in terms of the surprises.

You’ll realize while watching what a treat you’re in for when you first watch Mulligan’s amazing transformation from pretending to be drunk to being completely cognizant and just all the emotions we see her go through after that. Of course, we never really know what she’s actually doing to the guys she lets pick her up -- she keeps a notebook with guy’s names and a quizzical counting system, so we can only imagine.

Fennell’s screenplay is fantastic but her work as a first-time director in maintaining the the tone and pacing of the movie is really what will keep you captivated, whether it’s the amazing musical choices or how Cassie dresses up to lure men. There’s also a great cast around Mulligan whether it’s comic Burnham in a relatively more serious role, but one that also allows him a musical number. (No joke.) Fennel’s amazing casting doesn’t just stop there from, Jennifer Coolidge as Cassie’s mother to Laverne Cox as Gail, her workmate/boss at the coffee shop – both of them add to the film’s subtle humor elements. Alfred Molina shows up to give a show-stopping performance, and Alison Brie also plays a more dramatic role as another one of Cassie’s classmates. I can totally understand why the Golden Globes might have deemed the movie a “comedy/musical” (for about two days before going back) , but putting so many funny people in dramatic roles helps give Promising Young Woman its own darkly humorous feel. All that darkness is contrasted by this sweet romance between Cassie and Ryan that’s always in danger of imploding due to Cassie’s troubled nature.

The biggest shocking surprise is saved for the third act, and boy, it’s going to be one that people will be talking about for a VERY long time, because it’s just one gut punch after another. I loved this movie, as it’s just absolutely brilliant – go back and see where it landed in my Top 10. As one of the best thrillers from the past decade, people will be talking about this for a very long time 

Promising Young Woman hits theaters on Christmas Day, and presumably, it will be available on VOD sometime in January, but this is not one you want to wait on. If you do go see it in theaters, just be safe, please. No making out with random men or women, please.

Regina King’s narrative feature debut, ONE NIGHT IN MIAMI... (Amazon Studios), will ALSO be in theaters on Christmas Day, and though I’ve reviewed it over at Below the Line, but I’ll talk a little more about it here just for my loyal Weekend Warrior readers.

Yet another movie that made my Top 10, this one stars a brilliant quartet of actors --  Kingsley Ben-Adir, Leslie Odom Jr., Aldis Hodge and Eli Goree—as four legendary black icons: Malcolm X, Sam Cooke, Jim Brown and Cassius Clay, on the night after the last of them wins the World Boxing Championship against Sonny Liston in February 1964. The four men meet in Malcolm X’s hotel room to discuss what’s happening in their lives and the world in general, as well as Clay’s decision to join the Nation of Islam, just as Malcolm X is getting ready to leave the brotherhood due to philosophical differences with the group. In fact, all four men have philosophical differences that are discussed both in good humor and in deep conflict as they disagree on their place in a white-dominated world in a year before the Civil Rights Act would be signed.

First of all, there’s no way to talk about this movie without discussing the Kemp Powers play on which it’s based, and we can’t mention that without mentioning that Powers also co-wrote and co-directed Pixar’s Soul, which will be available on Disney+ this Friday. It’s a fantastic script and King put together a fantastic cast of actors who really give their all to every scene. In the case of Leslie Odom, Jr., you really can believe him as Cooke, especially in a number of fantastic performances pieces. Likewise, Goree looks a lot like Clay both in the ring and out, carrying all of the swagger for which he would become more famous as Ali.

I’ve seen the movie twice already and if you’ve looked at my Top 10, then you already know this is another one that made my cut, so I don’t think I need to give it a much harder sell. I’m sure you’ll be hearing a lot about this one on its journey to Oscar night when hopefully, King becomes the first woman of color to be nominated in the directing category. Or rather, she’ll probably tie for that honor with Nomadland director Chloé Zhao.

If you don’t feel like going to theaters for this one, you’ll be able to catch it on Amazon Prime Video on January 15, too… you’ll just have to wait a little longer.

Also, the new Pixar animation movie, SOUL, directed by Pete Docter (Up, Inside Out) and co-directed by Kemp Powers (remember him?), will hit Disney+ on Christmas Day, and I reviewed it here, so I probably don’t have  lot more to say about it, but it’s great, and if you have Disney+, I’m sure you’ll be watching it.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t get a screener for Matteo Garrone’s PINNOCHIO (Roadside Attractions), which also opens in about 700 theaters on Christmas Day. This adaptation stars Robert Benigni as Geppeto, who famously starred as Pinocchio in his own version of the classic fairy tale from 2002. That other movie was “Weinsteined” at a time when that just meant that a movie was ruined by Harvey Weinstein’s meddling, rather than anything involving sexual assault.

Another great movie hitting streaming this week is Eugene Ashe’s SYLVIE’S LOVE, which streams on Amazon Prime Video today. It stars Tessa Thompson as Sylvie and Nnamdi Asomugha (also a producer on the film) as Robert, who meet one summer in the late 50s while working at Sylvie’s father’s record store. He is a jazz musician who is on the rise, but their romance is cut short when he gets a gig in Paris but she refuses to go with him. Also, she’s pregnant with his child. Years later, they reconnect with her now being married with a young daughter (clearly Robert’s) and they realize that the love between them is still very real and true.

This is the first of three movies I watched this week where I went in with very little knowledge and absolute zero expectations. Like everyone else on earth, I am an avid fan of Ms. Thompson’s work both in movies like Thor: Ragnarok and smaller indies. She’s just a fantastic presence that lights up a screen. While I wasn’t as familiar with Asomugha’s acting work – he’s produced some great films and acted in a few I liked, included Crown Heights – there’s no denying the chemistry between the two.

What’s kind of interesting about the movie is that it combines a few elements from other great movies released this week, including Soul and A Night in Miami, but in my opinion, handles the music business aspect to the story better than the much-lauded Netflix movie, Ma Raimey’s Black Bottom. Frankly, I also think the performances by the two leads are as good as those by Boseman and Davis in that movie, but unfortunately, Amazon is submitting this to the Emmys as as “TV movie” rather than to the Oscars, so that’s kind of a shame.

This is a movie that’s a little hard to discuss why I enjoyed it so much without talking about certain scenes or moments, or just go through the entire story, but I think part of the joy of appreciating what Ashe has done in his second original feature film is to tell the story of these two characters over the course of a decade or so in a way that hasn’t been done before. That alone is quite an achievement, because we’ve seen many of those types of movies over the years (When Harry Met Sally, for instance).

What I really liked about Sylvie’s Love over some of the other “black movies” this year is that it literally creates its own world and just deals with the characters within it, rather than trying to make a big statement about the world at the time. Maybe you can say the same about Soul in that sense, but you would be absolutely amazed by how much bigger an audience you can get by telling a grounded story in a relatable world, and then throw in a bit of music, as both those movies do.

So that’s all I’ll say except that this will is now on Amazon Prime Video , so you have no excuse not to check it out while you wait for Regina King’s equally great One Night in Miami to join it in mid-January.

Hitting Netflix on Christmas day is Robert Rodriguez’s WE CAN BE HEROES, his sequel to his 2005 family film The Adventures of Shark Boy and Lava Girl – not his best moment -- which follows the kids of the Heroics, a Justice League-like super group. They’re all in a special school for kids with powers but they have to step up when the Heroics are captured by aliens. Want to know what will happen? Well, you’ll just have to wait for Christmas Day for when my review drops to find out whether I liked it more or less than Rodriguez’s earlier film which SPOILER!! I hated.)

The first thing you need to get past is that Shark Boy and Lava Girl are now man and wife, and just that fact might be tough for anyone who only discovered the movie sometime more recently. There are other familiar faces in the Heroics like Pedro Pascal, Sung Kang, Christian Slater, Priyanka Chopra Jonas and more, so clearly, Rodriguez is still able to pull together a cast.

The movie actually focuses on YaYa Goselin’s Missy Moreno, daughter of the Heroic’s leader (Pascal) who has also retired. Just as aliens are invading the earth, Missy is put into a school of kids with superpowers, all kids of various Heroic members. Sure, it’s derived directly from The X-Men and/or Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children, so yeah… basically also the X-Men. We meet all of the kids in a great scene where we see them using their powers and learn their personalities, and honestly, they really are the best part of the movie.Probably the most adorable is Guppy, the very young daughter of Shark Boy and Lava Girl, played by Viven Blair. Oddly, Missy doesn’t have any powers so she feels a bit fish-out-of-water in the group even though, like her father, she proves to be a good leader.

As much as I really detested Rodriguez’s Shark Boy and Lava Girl movie, I feel like he does a lot better by having a variety of kids in this one, basically something for everyone, but also not a bad group of child actors. (There’s also a fun role for Adriana Barraza​.) There are definitely aspects that are silly, but Rodriguez never loses sight of his audience, and wisely, Netflix is offering this as a Christmas Day release which should be fun for families with younger kids who might see this as their first superhero movie.

More discerning viewers may not be particularly crazy about visual FX, all done as usual in Rodriguez’s own studio but some of them look particularly hoaky and cheap compared to others. (I mean, that’s probably the appeal for hiring Rodriguez because he’s able to do so much in-house. In this case, he got all four of his own kids involved in various capacities of making the film.)

We Can Be Heroes is clearly a movie made for kids, so anyone expecting anything on part with Amazon’s The Boys will be quite disappointed. It’s probably Rodriguez getting slightly closer to Spy Kids than he has with any of his other family-friendly movies, but one shouldn’t go in with the expectations that come with any of the much bigger blockbusters released these days. Personally, I enjoyed that fact, and I totally would watch another movie with this superteam.

Michel Stasko’s BOYS VS. GIRLS (Gravitas Ventures) is a fun retro-comedy that follows a war between the male and female counselors at Camp Kindlewood, which has just gone co-ed. At the center of it all is Dale (Eric Osborne) and Amber (Rachel Dagenais) as two teens who are in the middle of a meet-cute romance in the middle of a inter-gender competition called “Lumberman vs. Voyagers,” which I have no idea whether it’s a real thing or not.

I probably should have known I’d like this one from the catchy New Order-ish song in the opening credits, but listen, Wet Hot American Summer is one of my all-time favorite movies, and that was basically made to satirize ‘80s movies like Meatballs. This one falls more towards to the latter in terms of humor, but it also feels authentic to the ‘80s summer camp experience.

It helps that the grown-ups at the camp are played by the likes of Kevin McDonald from New Kids on the Block, Colin Mochrie from Whose Line is It Anyway and others, but it’s really about the younger cast playing teen boys and girls in the throes of puberty, something we all can in some way relate to. The young cast play a series of stereotypical young but there are a lot of funny tropes within them, as each of the cast is given a chance to deliver some of the funnier gags. This isn’t necessarily high-brow humor, mind you, but I love the fact that you can still make a movie about a time where you could still make fun of girl’s periods in school. (I’m kidding. I just put that in there cause I feel like I need to throw things like that into this column just to see if anyone is ACTUALLY reading it.)

The presumably Canadian Stasko is another great example of an independently-spirited filmmaker who has an idea for a fun movie and then just goes about making it, regardless of having big stars or anything to sell it besides many funny moments that can be featured a trailer, so that those who like this kind of movie will find it. Listen, Wet Hot American Summer wasn’t a huge hit when it was released. I still remember it having trouble getting a single screening at the multiplex in Times Square when it was released but over the years since it became sort of a cult hit (kind of due to Netflix having it to rent on DVD, I think).

Besides a fun script and cast, Stasko also find a way to include tunes that sound so much like real ‘80s songs we would have heard on the radio but aren’t quite the big hits that would have cost him thousands of dollars, but I really just enjoyed the heck out of the tone and overall fun attitude that went into making this movie.

Also on VOD now is Ian Cheney and Martha Shane’s fascinating and funny doc, THE EMOJI STORY (Utopia), which I saw at the Tribeca Film Festival when it was called “Picture Character.” (That’s what “emoji” in Japanese means, just FYI.) As you can guess it’s about the origins and rise of the emoji as a form of communication from its humble beginning in Japan to becoming one of the biggest trending crazes on the globe. I’m not that big an Emoji guy myself – I tend to use the thumbs up just for ease, but I do marvel at those who can put together full thoughts using a string of these symbols, and if you want to know more about them, this is the movie you should watch.

Now let’s cut ahead to some of the movies that will be opening and streaming NEXT week…

Hitting select theaters on Wednesday, December 30 and what really is my “FEATURED FLICK” for this column is Hungarian filmmaker Kornél (White God) Mundruczó’s PIECES OF A WOMAN (Netflix) before its streaming premiere on Netflix January 7.

Written by Kata Wéber, who also wrote Mundruczó’s earlier film, it stars Vanessa Kirby (The Crown) and Shia Labeouf as Martha and Sean Weiss, a Boston couple who lose their baby during a particularly difficult home birth and follows the next year in their lives and how that tragic loss affects their relationship with each other and those around them.

As you can imagine, Pieces of a Woman is a pretty heavy drama, one that reminded me of the films of Todd Field (Little Children, In the Bedroom) in terms of the intensity of the drama and the emotions on screen from the brilliant cast Mundruczó put together for his English language debut. I’m not sure I could use the general plot to sell anyone on seeing this because it is very likely the worst possible date movie of the year after Netflix’s 2019 release, Marriage Story, but it’s just as good in terms of the writing and performances.

At the center of it is Kirby – and yeah, I still haven’t watched The Crown, so shut up! I’ll get to it!!! – who most of us fell in love with for her role in Mission: Impossible - Fallout, but what we see her go through as an actress here really shows the degree of her abilities. But it also shows what Mundruczó can do with material that (like many movies) started out as a play. For instance, one of the first big jaw-dropping moments is the home birth scene that goes on for a long time, seemingly all in one shot, and Kirby is so believable in terms of a woman going through a difficult birth, you’d believe she has had children herself. (She hasn’t.)  I also don’t want to throw Shia Labeouf under the bus right now just because that seems like the trendy thing to do. (Without getting it, I believe FKA Twigs… but that doesn’t deny the fact that Labeouf is just the latest great actor that everyone wants to cancel.)

Anyway, to change the subject, we have to talk about Ellen Burstyn, who plays Martha’s meddling mother, who is quite clingy and overbearing, so when the couple lose their baby, she steps in to take to task the midwife she deems responsible (played by the highly-underrated Molly Parker). Or rather, she hires a family lawyer (Sarah Snook) to take her to court to get compensation for the loss of her daughter’s baby. The film’s last act culminates as their case goes to court.

Again, the film covers roughly a year after the tragedy and deals not only with how Martha and Sean’s relationship is affected and how it emotionally affects Martha in particular, but also how others around them start behaving towards them. It feels so authentic and real that you wonder where the screenwriter was drawing from, but Mundruczó has more than prove himself as as filmmaker by creating something that is visually compelling and even artsy while still doing everything to help promote the story and performances over his own abilities as a director. Doesn’t hurt that he has composer Howard Shore scoring the film in a way that’s subtle but effective.

Listen, if you’re looking for a comedy riot that will entertain you with funny one-liners and pratfalls than Pieces of a Woman is not for you. This is a devastating movie that really throws the viewer down a deep spiral along with its characters. The first time I watched it, I was left quite broken, and maybe even more so on second viewing.  (As we get closer to Oscar season… in four months … I hope this film will be recognized and not just thrown under the table due to Labeouf’s involvement. That would be as big a tragedy and misjustice as much of what happens in the movie.)

So yeah, in case you wondered why this also made it into my prestigious Top 10 for the year, that is why. :)

Also in theaters on Wednesday, December 30 is another terrific drama, the Phyllida Lloyd-directed HERSELF (Amazon Studios), co-written and starring Clare Dunne, as Sandra, a mother of two young girls, trying to get out of an abusive marriage, while making ends meet and providing shelter for her kids. One day, she learns about a way that she can build her own home, and one of the women she cares for offers a plot of land

Another movie that I really didn’t know much about going into, other than Phyllida Lloyd being a talented filmmaker whose movie The Iron Maiden, which won Meryl Streep her 500th Oscar, I enjoyed much more than the popular blockbuster hit musical, Mamma Mia! This is a far more personal story that reminded me of Ken Loach’s I, Daniel Blake, a smaller and more intimate character piece that shines a light on British actor Clare Dunne, who as with some of the best and most personal movie projects, co-wrote this screenplay for herself to act in.

There are aspects to the film that reminds me of many other quaint Britcoms in terms of creating a story where one person’s challenge is taken up by others who are willing to help, and in this case, it’s Sandra’s desire to build a house for her two quite adorable daughters while also trying to keep it secret from her abusive ex.

Dunne’s performance isn’t as showy as some of the other dramatic performances mentioned in this very column, but she and Lloyd do a fine job creating an authenticity that really makes you believe and push for her character, Sandra, surrounding her with characters who can help keep the movie on the lighter side despite very serious nature of spousal abuse (which also rears its ugly head in Pieces of a Woman). Oh, and don’t get too comfortable, because this, too, leads to an absolutely shocking and devastating climax you won’t see coming. (Well, now you will… but you’ll still be shocked. Trust me.)

Still, it’s a really nice movie with the house being built clearly a metaphor.  I know there’s a lot of truly fantastic movies discussed in this week’s column but don’t let this wonderful British drama pass you by, because you can tell it’s a labor of love for everyone who made it.

Herself will be in theaters for roughly a week starting December 30 before streaming on Prime Video on January 8.

In select theaters and on VOD on New Year’s Day is Roseanne Liang’s WWII thriller SHADOW IN THE CLOUD (Vertical/Redbox Entertainment), starring Chloë Grace Moretz as Flight Officer Maude Garrett, who is assigned to deliver a top-secret package on the B-17 bomber “The Fool’s Errand” with an all-male crew that throws her into a turret “for her own safety.” She ends up getting trapped down there as the plane is attacked by a creature that no one believes is out there, as they fight back against the unseen enemy, many secrets are revealed.

This is yet another movie I didn’t know that much about other than it has Moretz on an airplane, but there’s so much about the movie that both had me scratching my head but also has me quite deliriously amused that filmmakers could get away with some of the craziness that we witness. Maybe it’s not a surprise that the movie was co-written by Max Landis -- not exactly the most beloved screenwriter in Hollywood these days, and certainly not a critical favorite.

Again I really didn’t know what to expect so after Moretz’s character gets on the plane and is trapped in the turret under the plane, I thought that maybe I was seeing something similar to the one-location thriller 7500, starring Joseph Gordon-Levitt, which I wasn’t too big a fan of even though the actor was good. Moretz continues to be quite a phenomenal actor, but the mix of Mahuia Bridgman-Cooper’s music, which borrows as much from Soulwax (look ‘em up on Spotify) as John Carpenter, and the sexist attitude by the male crew towards Garrett made me unsure of what the movie was meant to say.

Much of the movie just has Moretz on her own with the men’s voices over the comms, which is not something that could possibly sustain a whole movie. Part of it is borrowed from a very well-known episode of “The Twilight Zone,” in fact.

but fortunately, it breaks from out of that deceit but then just starts getting crazier and crazier. I’m not even gonna tell you about what happens or what’s in the box Garrett is carrying or where things go, because honestly, I don’t think you would believe me.

I haven’t seen any of Ms. Liang’s previous films but when you realize how much crazy stuff she’s able to get way with, I’ll be really interested what she does next. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen any movie that’s quite as crazy as Shadow in the Cloud or one that makes me want to watch it again for that very reason.

Oscar-winning Icarus director Bryan Fogel’s doc THE DISSIDENT (Briarcliff), which opens in theaters Friday then will be On Demand January 8, follows the horrific assassination of Washington Post journalist Jamal Khashoggi in Turkey in September 2018, thought to be the work of the Saudi kingdom and Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman aka MBS.

I’m really fascinated by movies like this one and Ryan White’s recent Assassins – both which could be in the Best Documentary race at the Oscars in April, by the detective and investigative work done by both filmmakers to get to the bottom of murders that shouldn’t be possible and find those that are responsible. I’ll admit that I didn’t really pay much attention to this story when it was happening a few years back, so I don’t know how much of the details are new and exclusive to Fogel’s doc. He does get access to Kashouggi’s fiancé Hatice who had gone with Jamal to the Saudi embassy in Turkey to get proof that he was single and could marry when he vanished for days and then turne up dead.

Fogel also meets with another Saudi dissident now living in Quebec who goes through the events that led up to Kashouggi’s murder that involved a social media campaign against the journalist within a country where 80% of the population is on Twitter (!).

This is another fascinating doc by Fogel that I’m sure some will be more interested in due to its subject, but when it comes to investigative pieces that really take a deep dive into news from the headlines, Fogel has created another unforgettable doc.  (Also, it was absolutely little surprise to me that Fogel’s film is co-written by Mark Monroe, who has been involved with some of the best docs I’ve seen over the past 15 years or so…  just look up his IMDB credits!)

Opening at the Film Forum Virtual Cinema in New York for a one-week qualifying run is Russia’s movie for Oscar consideration, Andrei Kochalovsky’s DEAR COMRADES! (NEON), a black and white dark dramedy set in 1960s Kruschchev-era Russia. It involves a strike by locomotive workers when the government raises food prices, leading to chaos and a massacre that leaves a Communist party loyalist,  Lyuda (played by Julia Vysotskaya) who the film then follows. Unfortunately, I had a choice of either writing this column or watching this two-hour movie. I opted for the former (obviously) but I do hope to get to this later in the week and should be adding more on this movie once I do.

Also streaming in Film Forum’s Virtual Cinema starting next Wednesday, December 30, is Mario Monicelli’s 1960 film, The Passionate Thief.

Unfortunately, I also wasn’t able to get to Two Ways Home (Gravitas Ventures), In Corpore or Fire Will Come, which will open in Metrograph’s digital ticketing system.

Metrograph will also continue showing Tsia Ming-Liang’s Goodbye, Dragon Inn, Fruit Chan’s Made in Hong Kong, and lots of great programming over the holidays. It would be a great time to get yourself or a loved one a digital membership for just $50! (James Gray is also programming some of his own films like Little Odesssa and other favorites, like Richard Quine’s Strangers When We Meet, over the holidays.)

By the way, if you read this week’s column and have bothered to read this far down, feel free to drop me some thoughts at Edward dot Douglas at Gmail dot Com or drop me a note or tweet on Twitter. I love hearing from readers … honest! 

#TheWeekendWarrior #Movies #Reviews #WonderWoman84 #OneNightInMiami #NewsOfTheWOrld #PromisingYoungWoman #PiecesOfAWoman #SylviesLove Herself TomHanks

[neonlaynes]

fic + writer appreciation post !!

 @ritahaeworth is /everything!!!/ any time she uploads/updates? the speed at which I drop everything to read her fic is incomprehensible. her work is evocative, raw, rips out your heart and I adore every second of it. lipgallagher on ao3.

@flippyspoon //The Buddy System 

I remember reading this back when I got into Harringrove in Feb 2018, Billy and Nancy friendship combo is something I never knew I needed but they are absolutely savage and a Menace!! love that for them. flippy is fantastic at serving up that sweet sweet fluff with a dash of angst!

@tracy7307 // Take Me with U

another fluff master; they go CAMPING!! tracy captures the tentative first few steps before a relationship so well for steve and billy; that slow burn is so rewarding!! imagining them under the stars, gazing into each others’ eyes...how blissful!

@granpappy-winchester // cherry 

full disclosure I do and I Will love everything sara does ... be it art or fic. cherry brings forth such a lovely imagery of a soft billy getting in touch with who he is and who he wants to be, and as always the interactions between him and steve are delightfully bantering!!

Little Beast by retoxification // the first few chapters broke my heart with how they wrote the tenuous relationship blossoming between steve and billy after how much billy hurt steve, and how billy navigates his guilt. lots of tender, raw moments.

@twobrokenwyngs // the only thing constant

the quintessential fic of “show, don’t tell”. they weave enough of an image of what billy and steve were like -- and leave just enough holes for you to fill in the gap, to wonder about their past. it’s what keeps you on the edge of your seat and waiting with bated breath. billy’s pining is so palpable, I just want that boy to be happy!!

@yolo-contendre​ // east of eden (and going west)

childhood friends AU.......and billy forever pining.......my god. it’s unhealthy af for him to be so over the moon on steve and dependent on him that he’s self-sabotaging in order to gain a scrap of steve’s attention....but I live for it. I’m anxious as to what will happen!! 

@pretendimstraight // i haven’t forgotten you yet

looks like I have an inclination for “lost love regained” relationships......ugh!! steve admitting billy was the best thing to ever happen to him ... billy’s rightful indignation at steve’s departure, them reconciling!! the dialogue is so well written!!

 @eternalgoldfish // tides will bring me back to you

I should Not spoil anything so basically: ghost billy. the interactions between characters and the characterization of everyone is just pure joy! so excited to see this fic update in my inbox, and I’m holding onto the hope that...it’ll all work out in the end. 

Yourself or Someone Like You (aka Steve and Billy are In Love) series by halfempty // currently 700k of slow, simmering tender love. I am so amazed at their dedication and the fact that when they update it’s usually 10k+ a chapter? so it’s always a treat to get comfortable and savor their writing!! I promise this series is well worth your time.

@highon85 // Kill me with your smile

this was so so sweet!! always love the secret admirer leaving gifts trope, and v did such a lovely job with billy’s pining -- my favorite kind of billy!! also, of course if you’re more comfortable with it -- I would LOVE to see more of your art too, your work is exquisite!!

@hoppnhorn​ + @the-copperkid // if you don’t like the company, let’s just do it you and me 

🔥🔥🔥 what a combo, what a duo. billy’s gross pining + steve indulging the man - chef’s kiss. both authors also have stellar portfolios of solo works, so please check them out!! some personal favs: rachel with her motogp AU, and the-copperkid with a modern missed connections AU!

@brawlite +  @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger // Wicked Game(s)

another dynamic duo!! I LOVE it when ABO tropes are subverted!! as always, they excel in crafting such a heady and sensual air whenever billy and steve interact in any capacity beyond being just friends. some personal favs: lane with and plenty of seeds in a lemon where billy pretends to be steve’s weed dealer and cass with Under the Covers which is Basically a classic now? and also there’s nothing wrong with me (loving you, baby) , which I only NOW discovered?? coworkers steve and billy is just so good!!

come on (you stranger, you legend, you martyr) and shine by buckyjbarnnes

post-s3 tender goodness -- billy’s got some powers! you feel as if you’re a present bystander during scenes - you can feel the train of thought running through both billy and steve’s heads -- and isn’t that something!

@hexlikesramennoodles // This Jelly

super hot and heavy, mysteriously attractive man turns up and is Practically a neighbor with how often he’s there for work anyway, and gradual falling in love? sign me up!! I also have to thank hex for the imagery of billy covered in beautiful tattoos as well...what a vision!!

@ihni // we stan a multitalented star...what can moa NOT do?? fic, art(both realistic/stylized/cartoon), poetry, sewing....wowow!! check out her art here and her writing here ; you can feel the love she puts into all her work!!

truly, this fandom has been so wonderful to share in!! there’s a plethora of amazing fics and writers that I simply cannot fit all my thoughts into one post -- I appreciate every single one of you. happy fic writer appreciation day!!

#rambles #harringrove #fic

[shadowversejc]

THE DESTINY OF SKYWALKER: The Rise of Skywalker Ending Reimagined

Chapter 1: The Rise of Skywalker

EXEGOL

Ben was running. Running, running, running as the sweat limped off his arms and face. Running through the darkness, which pervaded everywhere. But like many times before, the darkness was almost physical. But unlike those times, its strength was impossibly strong. The Dark Side was truly everywhere in this place, and it crept outward like an unstoppable slug.

He knew she would've known what to do—that Force bond just saved his life. He almost started laughing, but scolded himself for nearly falling for that temptation. Yet, he really couldn't help it—everything she did made him smile. He could barely keep focus each time they had fought before. Even being in her presence made his heart jackhammer to the point he thought faintness overtook him. Except for when she cut off a piece of his face. Not the finest moment by any stretch. He would always hold a grudge for that. Especially when his kids ask, "Dad, who gave you that?"

"Oh, your mother," he mumbled, still sprinting through and towards Rey's location. He was getting way too ahead of himself.

Priorities, Ben, priorities, he thought. Sometimes—well, more like all the time—he wondered why he loved her. And that he did, she just didn't know or hear him say it. Yet. She was a scavenger, truly a nothing from nowhere. Maybe it was the Force. Maybe it was destiny. Maybe it was simpler than that, though. Maybe, just maybe, for the first time in his life, he met someone who was also alone. Someone who needed another to make life bearable. It was all very poetic.

His mind was still reeling from the conflict with his former squad, the Knights of Ren. Those savages had been working behind the scenes for the Emperor this whole time, yet he never even caught a glimpse of their machinations. And now, the end neared as the fate of the Force teetered on the edge of an abyss. If they don't succeed and destroy one of the greatest Sith of them all, those kids won't even exist. If Darth Vader now apparently couldn't kill him, who could? But he had to try. Even if it meant giving up the greatest thing of all—life.

He would have to save the galaxy. When he imagined saving the entire galaxy, though, only one thing came to mind—Rey. She was his galaxy. He hoped she always would be. No matter what ensued, death could never hope to separate them.

I will finish what you started, grandfather.

After an eternity of running and jumping like a madman through the terrain of Exegol, he finally made it to the arena. Sith loyalists were everywhere, filling his ears and eyes with horror. The First Order itself was originated in various forms of evil. But this was different. It was pure evil, unlike anything he'd ever seen.

He looked around and spotted Rey in the center; just standing there, Leia's blue lightsaber blade casting a small pool of light in this dark dungeon. And there...was the Emperor. He was attached to the gigantic apparatus he had seen beforehand, flailing about like a zombie. It scared the crap out of him.

"Every master I have grown beyond is now with me," the Emperor said. "There is no escape. I will not just rule the galaxy. We all will!" His voice now seemed to be a multitude of voices. Darth Nihilus, Vitiate, Maul, Malgus, Bane, Plageuis, Exar Kun—the Dark Lords of the Sith from eons past all sounded their victory.

"The Force is not with you, grandfather!" Rey retorted. He laughed, drawing it out so that it echoed everywhere. "Young fool...good. Come and witness the full power of the Dark Side!"

Ben walked up and stood inside the arena. Rey noticed the commotion and looked. She smiled. Not a big smile, just a slight grin. He was overcome with joy. She had never smiled at him before. And boy, did it feel damn good.

Suddenly, he was hit by a truck of courage. He would kill Sheev Palpatine if it was the last thing he did. If only to see her smile one more time.

Glaring at Sidious, the newly-reborn Ben Solo stepped next to Rey, wielding the lightsaber of legacy, the saber used by Luke Skywalker and his father before him—Anakin Skywalker, the Chosen One.

"Your coming together will be your undoing," the Emperor said. "You will not stop me. I spent years planning. I destroyed the Jedi. Now, I will destroy you."

"'You'?" Rey snapped. "You won't kill me. You will have to kill us." Ben glanced at her and smiled. The time was at hand.

Out of nowhere, Palpatine shot his hands forward and ripped a translucent mist from both Ben and Rey's bodies. He had sucked something out of them. Something Ben knew he took. Something that horrified him. Years ago, he read the stories of all the powers the Dark Side lords possessed—one of them being life force manipulation. It's how this very Palpatine kept his grandfather, Anakin Skywalker, alive after a quick dip in the fires of Mustafar. In doing so, he took the life of his grandmother, Padme Amidala.

"The life force..." the Emperor muttered, almost astonished. He sneered with the smile of a devil and repeated the prior motion. Kylo and Rey were frozen by an unparalleled Force power as their very life left them and instead served the Emperor. His face began to brighten, his fingers reform, and soon enough, he fell to a knee. He felt more alive than ever—like he was back in the game. He dropped Rey and Ben to the unforgiving, cold ground.

Ben looked to Rey. She was unconscious. He shifted and glared at the Emperor, who slowly stood up. When they locked eye contact, Ben discovered a terrible truth: His eyes were now reddish-orange. The color of the Sith.

"No!" Ben shouted, mustering every ounce of strength to at least stand up to this monster in the Force. To pose a threat. To do something.

"Vader betrayed me," Palpatine said. "So I will start off by destroying the last Skywalker!" He telekinetically lifted Ben into the air once more. "I am your Emperor." He thrust Ben away and he fell into a pit deemed no bottom.

The reborn Darth Sidious sat on the throne. The ceiling began to part, displaying the vast fleets from everywhere in the galaxy consumed in an absolute spectacle of war.  Rey began to awaken and turned over. She groaned and looked to her grandfather, who pointed his fingers upward. What followed was a deep moan from the very Force itself, letting out an expulsion of Force lightning previously undreamed of straight into the sky, where it branched off like a thunderstorm. The fleets shorted out and began to go deadstick.

Horrified but powerless, Rey inched up. "Be with me," she choked. "Be with me."

"There is no one coming to help you," Palpatine growled. "No one will be with you. No one is coming, just like no one came to save your parents. Once more the Sith will rule the galaxy! And we shall have...peace. And this time, there is no Vader, no Skywalker to stop us."

She connected to the Force, her rage rising. The Skywalker lightsaber lifted off the ground in front of her. On one knee, she reached out to grab it. But it flew right past her and into the outstretched hand of someone, or something, else.

A slightly glowing, blurry figure stepped into an iota of light. Igniting the lightsaber, it began to walk forward. She squinted. The figure's features were now apparent. It wore long, Jedi robes and boasted long, wavy hair. Yet, she had no clue who he was.

"I believe you're in need of my assistance," he said. "I will be with you, Rey. Because I am all you need. And it's time I finish this. I will finish what I started."

Just then, Ben Solo crept out of the pit...somehow. He pushed himself up onto the ground that was riddled with energy and a nightmarish cyan glow. His eyes widened when he made out some kind of Force ghost. The ghost turned around and smiled at him.

"This was never your destiny, Ben! This is mine. I will balance the Force forever. One last time. Not as Vader, as Anakin Skywalker...the Chosen One."

***

I hope you enjoyed reading it! I never write fanfics but I was so pissed after what happened in TROS that I had to do something about it.

#the rise of skywalker #reylo #star wars #kylo x rey #kylo ren #ben solo #rey #anakin skywalker #palpatine #reylo shippers #tros #tros spoilers

[anotherkindofmindpod]

Listener Mailbag - Sept. 30, 2019

Listener feedback is valuable to us, and we love it when someone takes the time to reach out and engage us in conversation!  

This listener offers several compelling and interesting counter-points to the previous listener-letter’s assertion that the imbalances regarding McCartney’s critical reputation (and fandom toxicity regarding McCartney in general) have been redressed.  We don’t agree that they have, and this listener has made many similar observations.

Please feel free to email us at akompodcast at gmail dot com, send us an ask, or a Tumblr message. We love hearing from you!

Listener’s letter:  

Thank you guys so much for all of your hard work on this podcast! I’ve had an absolute blast listening to all the episodes, and I’m sure there are many who look forward to it just as much as I do. My letter is partially in response to another listener’s letter (the one who stressed that the jean-jacket narrative is no longer as prevalent as it once was).

I really loved your response, and I simply wanted to express that, whatever their experience with the Beatles’ narrative might’ve been, mine has been the exact opposite. I’m pretty young and my parents never really listened to the Beatles. I knew about the Beatles and Paul McCartney, but I was so naive to their story that it never really clicked that Paul was even in the Beatles until I became immersed in their lore (I had never even heard of George Harrison. Whoops, sorry Georgie). So, I was as blank a slate as they come.

I’ve been absolutely devouring Beatles media for the past three months. And being a Paul fan in 2019? Still really difficult due to the toxicity of the fandom. Obscure books about John Lennon or the group as a whole are far easier to track down than Paul books.

It took an embarrassingly long time to discover that Paul even had an authorized semi-autobiography. (The cringeworthy lack of attention toward Ringo and George hasn’t escaped my notice, either. Their legacy has been seriously neglected) And a lot of the books I’ve managed to get my hands on tend to take unprovoked jabs at Paul’s legacy: two of the “Paul books” I’ve bought recently were prefaced, essentially, with “I’ve never liked Paul because I resented the way the women in my life so obviously enjoyed him.” Both the Norman and Clayson biographies began this way, and it just seemed so unnecessary.

Now I have to do extensive research before purchase to avoid wasting money on books that disdain Paul for qualities outside of his control. It was baffling that these men thought, despite their personal jealousies, that they were qualified to not only write biographies but to include their personal issues in the preface without having their legitimacy questioned. I’d never seen anything like it.

When books or media praise him, the majority of it seems to be for his appearance. Even Cynthia Lennon, bless her old lady heart (loved her book John, by the way, read it ‘cause you guys recommended it), when it came to describing each Beatle in an interview, described a man who had been a true friend to her for decades as ‘Pretty… so, so pretty.’ The other three Beatles consistently get remarks as to their wit and talent, but few people, even some of his close friends, seem to get past Paul’s looks.

To the untrained, twenty-something eye, Paul comes across as something of an adorable, grandad figure, kind of oddly amorphous in his legacy, rather than the musical genius and powerhouse he actually is. When I started to seek out his music, I was shocked at all the familiar melodies that I’d heard hundreds of times before without ever knowing the artist. His music feels really fresh and relevant to me, not at all dated, a huge contrast to the affable, aging persona I’ve been fed by the media.

Paul is my favorite Beatle, but I’m not looking for media that overtly glorifies Paul in relation to his former bandmates. I just want to have historically factual, fair media that pays respect to the people who have shaped my life and occasionally comforted me with their art. And I don’t want to feel like I should have to be ashamed of my enjoyment just because a group of men found my appreciation vapid and aggravating, for one reason or another.

That’s why I’ve so thoroughly enjoyed the AKOM podcast: it feels like, in a room full of toxic men screaming at the top of their lungs about nothing at all and demanding it become truth, that women (and other varying genders) can still bravely sit down amidst it all, have tea, and breathe some sanity into the stupidity. Thanks again!

Our Response:

Thank you for your wonderful letter. We appreciate the feedback. We love long letters and certainly understand having a lot to say on the subject!

We have had very similar experiences to yours and agree: 

“Paul comes across as something of an adorable, grandad figure, kind of oddly amorphous in his legacy, rather than the musical genius and powerhouse he actually is.” 

This bothers us as well. Paul does not get the artistic credit he deserves. 

Paul himself has shown frustration with the label “the cute Beatle” —can you imagine having written some of the world’s most famous songs and being labeled “cute” while you partner is labeled “smart” or “intellectual” or “genius”? It must be hugely frustrating. Perhaps so much so that he has taken to giving HIMSELF the label of genius recently! We’re all for it!

Unfortunately, it a label and bias that exists. Problem is, Paul is cute and charming! But he is also deep and complex and brilliant and sexy, yet so many writers and observers aren't able to see beyond the surface-level read of him. This hasn’t always been the case though, when we examine contemporaneous reviews of the Beatles, we find that in the 60s Paul’s genius was taken more seriously by some (yes, he had the label “the cute Beatle” but his talents were also taken seriously, especially in the UK); the break-up seems to have altered his critical evaluation.

You said: “When I started to seek out his music, I was shocked at all the familiar melodies that I’d heard hundreds of times before without ever knowing the artist.”

 We are thrilled that you have discovered them. I felt this way about Paul’s solo work as well—I  had been led to believe, by critics, that Paul’s solo music wasn’t up to par with his Beatles work, so approached it with trepidation. What a pleasure it was finding out they were so very wrong. Paul’s post-Beatles work is a joy to explore. It is a treasure chest of incredible music. 

“His music feels really fresh and relevant to me, not at all dated, a huge contrast to the affable, aging persona I’ve been fed by the media.”

Exactly, and Paul’s post-Beatles story is very romantic and relevant as well. Paul’s post-Beatles period hasn’t been significantly romanticized or mythologized….yet. 

The McCartneys themselves do a good job of it, but it hasn’t taken hold in the popular imagination. Based on Paul’s "persona" as it is portrayed in popular culture, one would think Paul spent his entire post-break-up career pining for the Beatles and writing sub-standard but commercially popular music rather than having inspired a whole other music genre and created a goldmine of incredible music.

“Paul is my favorite Beatle, but I’m not looking for media that overtly glorify Paul in relation to his former bandmates. I just want to have historically factual, fair media that pays respect to the people who have shaped my life and occasionally comforted me with their art.”

Wouldn’t that be lovely! But it’s tough to find. It seems some of these biases are so deeply ingrained and embedded in the Beatles story that it colors the view of everything Paul-related. For example, what is this so-called “granny music”? This isn’t even a thing! It’s not a genre, yet Paul’s music is continually given this label. It's time to stop letting John’s labels, which were given in a fit of anger and defensiveness, define Paul and Paul’s music. Again, there are some deep underlying assumptions in this fandom that need to be challenged. 

“And I don’t want to feel like I should have to be ashamed of my enjoyment just because a group of men found my appreciation vapid and aggravating, for one reason or another.  That’s why I’ve so thoroughly enjoyed the AKOM podcast: it feels like, in a room full of toxic men screaming at the top of their lungs about nothing at all and demanding it become truth, that women (and other varying genders) can still bravely sit down amidst it all, have tea, and breathe some sanity into the stupidity. “

 Ha! Well, we are thrilled to have inspired enjoyment and relaxation with a good cup of tea! We understand the pleasure of not wanting to constantly throw your cup at the speaker!

“Can't wait for the next episode!!”

We hope you have enjoyed our latest episodes on the Break-up and LIB. We think we managed to challenge some deeply held believes and assumptions with our analysis. 

Thanks again for the letter, we really enjoyed it! Please continue to share your thoughts if you are inspired!

Best, 

Diana and the AKOM Crew 

#listener mail #fan letters #podcasts #thank you listener #mailbag #paul mccartney #beatles narratives #narratives #beatles fandom #john lennon #beatles myths #mythology #publicity #linda eastman #linda mccartney #beatles history #please write in! #[email protected] #We love feedback!

[doomedandstoned]

Wasteland Coven Summon Doom From the Rust Belt

~Doomed & Stoned Debuts~

By Billy Goate

You're about to meet a true blue, dyed in the wool doom band from Ohio, which I discovered just a few weeks ago. This is WASTELAND COVEN, aptly named considering the industrial devastation that has visited the midwest, accentuated now even more in a time of pandemic. 'Ruined' (2020) is their debut EP and it features a singer, Susan Mitchel, that I would rank with Susie MacMullen of Brume and Dorthia Cottrell of Windhand. Sometimes vocalists try to pull off that coveted, full-bodied range, but end up sounding thin and wobbly. Not here.

Performing double duty on bass, Susan is joined in this Toledo crew by guitarists Bill Anderson and Brandon Collins, along with drummer Jason Wilcox. This is meat and potatoes doom, too, each of the three tracks on Ruined bearing the formative influences of Candlemass and Saint Vitus (the vocal cadence and guitar solos of "The Great Colossus"), Trouble and My Dying Bride (the mysterious and dramatic "Endless Night"), and the aforementioned Windhand (the riff laden intro to "Midsummer Days").

This mix of beauty and beast works well for Wasteland Coven. Susan's vocals take wings with sad urgency, rising above the dense, darkly downtuned procession of smoke and fire. Bittersweet leads break through the haze here and again, too, if for no other reason than to accent the gravity of the moment.

I've listened to the EP multiple times in a row and it is substantial enough to keep my appetite for doom satiated, without overstaying its welcome with an overly-familiar taste. Look for its release on Friday, April 17th (pre-order CD here), and listen to the record whole right here, right now via Doomed & Stoned!

Give ear...

Ruined by Wasteland Coven

A Chat with Wasteland Coven Guitarist Brandon Collins

Take us back to the band's origins. How did it all begin for you guys?

Things got started in late 2018, when our drummer Jason posted on Facebook asking if anybody wanted to play something dark and heavy. He was already playing in a punk band (The Old Breed) and a noise rock band (Sog City) so he was really looking to start more of a Manilla Road inspired band - he's a big Manilla Road fan. Sue (bass and vocals) and I (guitar) were both interested in Jason's pitch but style shifted a little bit as we all got together. By the first time we met up, he said to aim for Candlemass meets My Dying Bride (which I declared sorcery) and from there we drifted into the doom menagerie that we're at now.

Jason quickly roped in another guitar player, but after a month or two he lost interest, so we spent some time looking for another. During that search period we sketched out our first songs and booked some studio time for later in the year - we were going to record what we had regardless of who we had. Eventually Sue reached out to Bill who solidified the lineup midway through 2019 and we were officially a band. We practiced, finished up the songs as a four piece, and went to Lakebottom Recording House in September 2019.

How about a walk-through of the songs on 'Ruined' (2020)?

Midsummer Days

I think we all agree that this is the best song on here. It was going to be a shorter and simpler song originally, but it really kind of blossomed with all of us adding new bits to it. Lyrics mainly involve the imagery and feelings of a dying world. Really it's a sad, poetic veil over the changing of seasons, summer to fall to winter - seeing everything in nature fade and decay as seasonal depression kicks in. Admittedly, "Midsummer Days" isn't really a doomy title, but when you realize that they're dead. That'll teach you to judge too quickly! Kinda had to push Sue a bit to do the "trailing off into the void" vocals right at the end. She was reluctant, but I'm really glad she did them. It really adds some resonating loneliness.

Great Colossus

So originally, I came up with the riffs for this, played them for Jason, and when he added drums, his style immediately put Sue in mind of robots -- giant robots. And that drove us to make this our weirdest song lyrically, about falling in love with a giant robot with sexual overtones. Sue and I went back and forth on the lyrics for this one a lot, tweaking it to put just the right sultry spin on something cold and mechanical. This song sort of prompted the cover art. Around the time we were recording songs Sue was at an art show and saw the piece. Made her think of the song and said we needed it on our EP!

Endless Night

This was our first song, so I like to say it has first song syndrome -- not quite as strong as the others and maybe sticks out a little more 'cause you're trying to find your direction. But the main riff and the solos are still fun, so why not? Since it was going to be the first song for our doom band, the lyrics hit on a pretty typical doom metal topic: death. But I suppose the twist is that it's more about setting aside your fears and finding peace in your demise -- even as the music kind of betrays that peace and hints at the dread and dark thoughts behind it all. Solos here were fun to do. I take the first half of the solo section and Bill takes the second half, so we each get a chance to go our own direction just meeting for a moment to hand it off in the middle.

What was the recording process like for the band?

The bulk of it was done over the course of two weekends, September 27-29 and October 4-6 in 2019 (with a bit of touch up and review a few times afterwards). We went to Lakebottom Recording House in Toledo owned and operated by J.C. Griffin. Jason had recorded with J.C. many times before and refused to go anywhere else. But for the rest of us, it was our first time there and it was fantastic.

It's hard to imagine how it would have worked out with anyone else. J.C. is super encouraging and immediately invested in making sure you're getting a great sound - he's gives great direction for process, equipment, and performance. Really great weekends overall hanging out and playing music the whole time. The hardest part might have actually been the work week in between those two weekends -- coming down from all the joys and excitement with days full of music made "regular" life such a dull slog where we were just desperate to go back and do it again. Easily the most fun and best experience I've had recording.

In retrospect, maybe it was a bit weird that we were all so happy and having such a great time producing this melancholy music, but I don't think we put any thought into it at the time. Susan was extremely nervous and self-conscious when it came time to do her vocals, but with enough liquid courage she nailed it.

It looks like you had the album cover commissioned?

Artwork was done by Jackie McKown who lives here in Toledo. Sue saw the piece at an art show where Jackie was showing her stuff. These giant robot creatures wrecking shit was pretty in line with the initial themes of Great Colossus - it was lacking the sex/love angle, but it still fit just fine with the kind of destructive war-machines that could inspire love. Sue was very taken with it right away, so we went with it.

There's also presumably death and longing for better times involved in that kind of city-wide rampage, so you can tie into the other tracks as well. We sort of let that guide us, having the artwork inspire the title "Ruined." We had a city being ruined on the cover and we could find some form of ruination in each song. Then when it came time to lay everything out, we decided to ruin things a little more, adding wrinkles and dirt marks and imperfections.

This last question is just for the gearheads! Tell us what you're sporting these days?

Brandon: Epiphone Les Paul Studio guitar with an Orange Crush CR120C amp (frequently used to accidentally drown out everyone else), and for pedals: Big Muff Pi (with Tone Wicker), MXR EVH Phase 90, Cry Baby Wah.

Sue: Ibanez BTB 5 String Quilt Top bass, DR Dragon Skin strings (allergic to nickel), with a Fender Rumble 500 Combo amp and Big Muff Pi pedal.

Bill: ESP LTD Viper-256 w/Gibson 498T bridge guitar, ESP LTD EC-100 w/EMG 81/85. Amps include Peavey Valveking 2x12, Carvin X100-B 100 watt head*, and Carvin 4x12 Cab (used as needed). Pedal of choice: Digitech GNX4 Multi-Effects.

Jason: Tama Rockstar Drums.

Follow The Band

Get Their Music

#D&S Debuts #Wasteland Coven #Toledo #Ohio #Doom #Metal #D&S Reviews #HeavyBest2020 #Doomed & Stoned

[thisguyatthemovies]

Why so quirky?

It took more than 14 years to get around to it, but the other night I watched the 2005 Cameron Crowe train wreck “Elizabethtown,” a film that sometimes shows up on Worst Movie Ever lists. It’s bad, but its “worst” status is more about disappointment, given the writer-director’s previous track record {“Say Anything…,” “Almost Famous,” “Jerry Maguire,” “Fast Times at Ridgemont High”). Still, did I mention it’s bad? A ridiculous premise, plot lines that go nowhere, obvious and heavy-handed symbolism, multiple and sickeningly sweet (and annoying) “meet cutes” and quite possibly some of the worst casting in a major motion picture ever all add up to a movie that deserves much criticism.

“Elizabethtown” also is notorious for inspiring the term “Manic Pixie Dream Girl” (or MPDG). The phrase usually is credited to Nathan Rabin, who wrote a piece about the movie, “The Bataan Death March of Whimsy Case File #1: ‘Elizabethtown,’” for AV/Film nearly 15 months after its release. In it, he describes Kirsten Dunst’s character, Claire, the inexplicably bubbly love interest of suicidal-but-handsome protagonist Drew Baylor (Orlando Bloom), as the embodiment of the Manic Pixie Dream Girl. Rabin describes the type as such:

“The Manic Pixie Dream Girl exists solely in the fevered imaginations of sensitive writer-directors to teach broodingly soulful young men to embrace life and its infinite mysteries and adventures.”

By that definition, applied retroactively, Dunst’s Claire isn’t the first MPDG in movie history (some include Katharine Hepburn’s early roles on MPDG lists), nor is she even the best example of one (think Natalie Portman in “Garden State,” or Zooey Deschanel in “Yes Man” or the TV show “New Girl”). And the term, which Rabin reportedly now regrets coining, has become better defined with attributes that don’t necessarily fit Claire, even though she will forever be considered the epitome of the trope.

In case you have not seen “Elizabethtown” (and you’ll probably be just fine never seeing it), Bloom plays a shoe designer who works for a company not unlike Nike. Somehow, he is saddled with all the blame for a shoe that is so bad that it is recalled and will cost the company (somehow) nearly a billion dollars. Bloom’s Drew Baylor is fired and decides to off himself, but a phone call about the unexpected death of his father interrupts him during his first attempt. Drew, a West Coaster, is enlisted by his family to travel to Elizabethtown, Ky., his father’s hometown and where the elder Baylor has passed away, to bring the body home for cremation. Relatives in Kentucky have other plans for his final resting place.

Drew takes a flight to Kentucky and – wouldn’t you know it? – is the only passenger on the plane. That’s where Claire comes in. She apparently is the lone stewardess, and she is a talkative one at that. She won’t leave Drew alone from the get-go, and she (somehow) senses Drew is troubled and needs help because, for a guy who had a relatively important position with an internationally known shoe maker, he has no idea how to live this thing we call life. She does what any upstanding MPDG would do – she makes the repair of his damaged soul her sole purpose in life.

Claire would seem to vary from the standard trope in that she has a life of her own, at least when she and Drew meet. Her career would afford her at least a modest independent existence. She seems to have a nice place. She even has a boyfriend, though it is not clear if the guy really exists or, if he does, he is all that into her. But Claire quickly becomes a genie let out of the bottle; Drew’s every wish is her command. She just happens to show up wherever Drew is so much that if the roles were reversed, Drew would be accused of stalking. She says all the right things, even as Drew continues to hint at ending his life. She even (somehow) has the availability to, within a brief period of time, piece together a scrapbook (including hand-drawn illustrations) that will help Drew navigate a soul-discovering solo cross-country road trip AND (this being a Cameron Crowe movie) has provided the soundtrack via mix CDs that are (somehow) timed perfectly to coincide with landmarks during Drew’s travels. So omnipresent, so magical is Dunst’s character that some have suggested she was written to be a guardian angel sent to save Drew’s life. That interpretation at least makes some of Claire’s story semi-plausible and almost tolerable.

Claire is selfless to a fault, and she certainly is strange, maybe unstable. But, if anything, Manic Pixie Dream Girls lost even more sense of self and picked up more strangeness as the stock character turned into a full-fledged trope. Think Deschanel as Allison in the 2008 Jim Carrey vehicle “Yes Man.” As is always the case in these things, Carrey is a cynical, disillusioned man looking for meaning in life. He happens upon Allison, who hits a lot of stock MPGD notes. She zips around town on a moped. She wears mismatched clothing from vintage stores. She performs avant garde (and awful) music. Her primary means of supporting herself (?) is by teaching a class that combines jogging and photography. She is everything Carrey’s Carl Allen is not, mostly carefree. They, of course, engage in romance, even though Carl is notably older than Allison (that’s the case in many films, not just MPDG movies).

In 2010’s “Scott Pilgrim vs. the World,” two characters combine for the role of MPDG. The titular character, played by Michael Cera, is a slacker musician a few years removed from high school. That doesn’t stop him from dating a high-schooler, Knives Chau (Ellen Wong), whose sole purpose is as a superfan for Scott’s band. Then Scott meets the girl of his dreams (literally), Ramona Flowers (Mary Elizabeth Winstead), who is at least older than Knives but still is quirky (she works delivering packages while on roller skates) and impulsive (she often changes her hair color) but is too aloof and serious to be a full-on MPDG. She does, however, end up being a sort-of trophy, to be won if Scott can defeat her seven evil exes. So, her existence still is minimalized.

Some movies have addressed the MPDG thing head-on. Though sometimes cited as a MPDG, Kate Winslet’s Clementine in 2004’s “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” is actually the anti-MPDG. Sure, she wears orange hair and gloves with the fingertips cut off, and she’s impulsive. But she also is flawed, sometimes dark and independent (MPDGs typically don’t get any of those traits). And she says this, which seems like a direct response to the trope, even though the term didn’t yet exist, as written by Charlie Kaufman: “Too many guys think I’m a concept, or I complete them, or I’m gonna make them alive. But I’m just a fu**ed-up girl who’s looking for my own peace of mind. Don’t assign me yours.”

Those are sentiments Claire in “Elizabethtown” never would have expressed, her focus being on a lost, sensitive young man and his happiness, not hers. Nor would she be allowed to even think such, given she and MPDGs like her are the products of writers and filmmakers who want to believe that this idealized version of young women is out there. That will probably be the case as long as men are writing movies, just as the male equivalent of the MPDG – the ridiculously handsome man with washboard abs who manages to accumulate much wealth despite always being around to tend to a woman’s needs and whisk her off to beaches on his private jet – will always exist as long as women are fantasizing about them and flocking to see them in rom-com-drams and reading about them in romance novels.

A little healthy fantasy is fine, but movie tropes and stereotypes are not, if we believe they can shape how we live in real life. Manic Pixie Drew Girls, though not totally a thing of the past (Joi, the A.I. girlfriend in 2017’s “Blade Runner 2049,” comes to mind as an updated version), are becoming outdated as more and more females are having their voices heard in Hollywood. MPDGs are being replaced by independent women who are the focus of the story and don’t have to be bubbly if they don’t feel like it, who aren’t required to be quirky and can chase their own happiness. These characters, unlike Manic Pixie Dream Girls, are multidimensional. They give a movie depth, not just gloss.

Imagine if that’s the kind of character Dunst’s Claire could have been. “Elizabethtown” wouldn’t show up on so many Worst Movie Ever lists. And it wouldn’t have been forever linked to a tired movie trope and the terminology to describe it.

#movies #movie review #movie tropes #manic pixie dream girl #elizabethtown #kirsten dunst #eternal sunshine of a spotless mind #kate winslet #yes man #zooey deschanel #ramona flowers #scott pilgram vs the world