#not nearly enough guitar guys in later seasons :(

[tommodirection]

Miss You More

Louis Tomlinson x Singer! Reader

Masterlist

Word Coung: 2.5k

Warnings: swearing, death, cancer, mentions of death

Disclaimer: Miss You More is an actual song that I wrote, and it isn’t published or anything, but it’s one I wrote about the loss of my grandfather, and so I may link it here if I feel like it so you know what the song is and what it’s about, there are just a few words you’d have to change, but anyways!

A/N: Heylo! I’m going to be honest with you, this is not my favorite thing I’ve ever written, and it’s a little corny, and poorly worded, but eh. It’s one am, I’m going to sleep after this! Anyways, I hope y’all enjoy! Thank you, and have a nice day!

——————

Ever since you were a child, you knew you wanted to sing.

It all started with your mum. When you were little, she’d always sing to you, every night before you went to bed.

Soon enough, you began singing back to her, and she loved every second of it.

You sang together every chance you got, singing in the car, in the house, at parties, even when you walked the dog together through your neighborhood.

She had encouraged you to make a YouTube channel for your music, knowing you’d make it big. At first, you were hesitant, not confident enough to post your voice on the internet, but you finally agreed weeks later.

You mostly did covers at first. Of course, your 14-year-old self didn’t know what she was doing. All she knew was that she was doing something she loved.

About a year after making the channel, you began making custom content. You learned to play the guitar and you’d use it almost every second. You took it everywhere. Well, everywhere you knew you’d be able to show off.

The songs were mostly about crushes and school and friends, the main things circling around your life at the time.

But it all changed when you were sixteen.

It was no secret your mother had cancer. She had since you were little, yet she had kept fighting it, succeeding for a few years.

The doctors had said she was getting better, on her way to becoming cured, well, as cured as she could be.

But out of nowhere, it plunged. She was coughing up blood, and could barely stand, needing assistance to go the bathroom. It just kept getting worse.

One of the worst parts of losing your mum was the fact that it was the holiday season, ruining the time of year for your family for years to come.

You remembered her final day alive. She was laying in the hospital bed, lips chapped and all colored drained from her face. Her lips were bloodied as well, reminisce of the blood she had hacked up minutes ago.

Your father and siblings were there beside her. Your father held your little brother, he was four at the time, and your younger sister was standing next to you, she was twelve. Alex didn’t fully understand what was happening, he just knew his mum wasn’t well, and he mostly hid his face in your father’s shoulder.

Morgan, however, understood exactly what was happening, and she was crying beside you. She was trying her best to hold back, maintaining a straight stance and trying to hide her shaking hands. You watched as tears flooded down her face, making small wet patches on the sheets.

You looked at your mum, studying her. She had done so much for all of you, but there was nothing you could do for her as she layed in the bed, motionless, save for her eyes, darting between all of you.

You knew how much singing meant to your mother, and so you did the only thing you knew you could do. You sang.

Her favorite holiday song was Silver Bells, so you started the song, your family soon joining in. Your mother smiled gratefully at all of you.

She joined in towards the chorus, her voice still weak, but just as beautiful as when you first heard it.

Those were your last moments with your mother.

She passed away hours later, the anticipated news crushing your family.

You had all slept together that night, knowing you couldn’t be apart. Alex didn’t know what had happened, and you knew your father couldn’t handle it, so you had stepped in, trying to explain to the boy that his mum was gone, and she wasn’t coming back.

—

After she passed, you had stopped uploading to your channel, getting emotional every time you even tried singing.

But months later, you had decided not to give up. Instead, you chose to move forward. You started writing again.

The song you were writing was about your mother, it seemed fitting. You knew no amount of words could ever sum up your relationship with her, nor your grief, but you tried your best in the song.

You had spent a few months writing the song, not it a rush. You were pouring your heart into this song, and if it was rushed, you knew it’d have no meaning, just some words with a few riffs thrown in.

A few days after your seventeenth birthday, you uploaded the video onto your account, the first video uploaded since your mother had died.

After uploading it, you decided to turn your computer off for the night. You knew how obsessive you got with checking your feedback, you normally refreshed the page until your fingers were sore.

Instead, you walked into the kitchen, guitar forgotten. You hadn’t shared the song with your family yet, and you knew you needed to do acapella, it was much more fitting.

You were scared of how they were going to react, especially your dad and Morgan.

Immediately after finishing the song, Morgan tackled you in a hug, burying her head in your shoulder, “Thank you,” she mumbled and you pelt tears pricking your eyes.

Your dad stood, his hand over his mouth. Alex was sitting at the table, eating his cereal. You waited in silence for a few moments, waiting for your dad to say something, but nothing.

Alex interrupted the silence, “That’s the first time I’ve heard you sing in a while, sissy,” he said, a wide grin. You don’t know where your family would be without Alex. He knew exactly how to light up a whole room, he knew how to make people feel better.

“I know, bud,” you smiled and he gave you a toothy grin, turning back to his cereal.

You dad finally let out a small, choked sob, “I miss her so much,” he said, opening his arms. You quickly collapsed in them. He was the one you wanted approval from the most.

“I do too, Dad,” you whispered.

—

Years later, you found yourself at Triple Strings Record Label.

A man sat in front of you, shuffling through some papers at his desk. He sighed loudly, and shoved the papers aside, giving you his full attention, “So, miss L/N, we’ve heard some of your work, and were quiet big fans,” he said, folding his hands in front of him.

“Thank you,” you smiled nervously, and he glanced at the clock.

“Well, my name is Bryan, Bryan Detreon. I’m an agent here for all the upcoming stars in the music industry, although I can’t take credit for finding you, that goes to the creator of the label himself,” he chuckled and you froze.

“Wait, the owner as in, like, Louis Tomlinson?” You asked, suddenly sitting up in your chair.

Of course you knew who Louis Tomlinson was. You were a year younger than him, grew up with him on the screen and on the radio.

He let out a small laugh, “Yeah, as in Louis Tomlinson, he found you personally and requested you be brought in. He’s offering you a contract, I’ve emailed it to you, but I’d like to go over it now, just to point out some things! Now, he said to take as much time as you needed to decide. You can have a lawyer look over this if you’d like, and just back to us when you have an answer! Although, he’d probably prefer to have it before the beginning of his tour! Oh yeah! He wants you as his one opening act!” He finished, pushing a copy of the document towards you.

You took a second to process what he had said, and when you finally had. You nearly fell out of your chair. “He wants me to open for him?!”

“Yup,” he continued as if it were nothing. “Now, in the first section…” you tuned him out, you’d read it at home.

Louis fucking Tomlinson wanted you to open for him. How were you supposed to say no? Your dream come true, after years of posting on YouTube and going to school to study music, hoping someone would find you, and it had all led to this.

Twenty-six years of your life, all leading up to this moment.

“Any questions?” Bryan asked, locking eyes with your

You quickly shook your head, gathering your stuff and standing up. “Nope, thank you so much for this opportunity, I will definitely look it over and email you as soon as I know! Thank you!” You rambled, and ran out the door, trying to rush home.

“I got fucking signed!” You screamed into the empty household. You had your own place, but you felt the need to run to your family’s home to share the news.

Your dad walked in from the kitchen, Alex trailing behind him. Alex was fourteen now, which now meant he was starting to call horn father out on his bullshit, not that there was much.

“Welcome home to you too,” your Dad teased, and Alex looked up, his face instantly lighting up. He ran and wrapped his arms around you, he was beginning to tower over you.

“I missed you,” he grumbled, trying to hide his face.

You laughed and patted his back, “I missed you too bud.”

“What’s this about being signed?” Morgan strolled into the room, she was still living at home, finishing her last semester of university. She had grown into a beautiful woman, looking almost identical to your mother.

“Right! So, I got a call and email about an interview, and it said to meet at the Sony label here, and to go to the Triple String label office! I get there, and the guy tells me that they’re huge fans and want me to sign a contract with them! Turns out, LOUIS FUCKING TOMLINSON WANTS ME TO OPEN FOR HIM!” You screamed, not caring about the neighbors.

Morgan swooped you into a hug, you hated being the shortest. “Aw, my big sis is going to be a pop star!”

—

Months later, you stood backstage, picking at your sleeve. You glanced behind the curtain and saw hundreds of people standing and an endless chatter.

It was your first show of the tour, you had rehearsed hundreds of times, but that did nothing to settle your nerves.

Louis only had one opening act. You. You were all the crowd got before him, so you had to impress them.

You felt someone grab your waist from behind, as you nearly jumped out of your skin. You heard a small giggle in response, recognizing the voice.

You turned to playfully glare at Louis, your boyfriend of four months. You had bonded during rehearsals, and bonded over your similar life experiences, and soon enough, you had begun dating.

Only a handful of people knew, his family, and the crew on tour with you. You weren’t prepared to tell your family yet.

“What are you lookin at?” He asked, wrapping an arm around you. You rested your head on his chest.

“Just looking at the crowd, it’s huge,” you mumbled and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“It’ll be alright, they’ll love you,” he assured, and you smiled at him, grateful for his company.

“Thank you Lou,” you went to give him a proper kiss, but you were interrupted by the stage manager, telling you it was time for you to get in your position.

You quickly waved Louis goodbye, and ran to your platform under the stage, the one that you’d be rising up on in seconds.

They gave you a countdown, and a crew member handed you a mic.

On one, they hauled you up, your hand already in their places.

You were met with a roar of cheers and applause as you surfaced, singing one of your most popular songs, ‘Don’t Start With Me Now,’ written about an old, toxic, best friend.

It was thrilling, hearing the people singing your lyrics back to you, you were shocked they knew them. Being on stage gave you adrenaline you’d never experienced before, and soon, all your nerves flooded away.

As you finished your song, you heard the crowd erupted into cheers, whistles being scattered throughout the crowd. Monologue time.

“Hey guys!” You greeted. “My name is Y/N L/N, and I have been chosen by the honorable host, Louis Tomlinson, to open the show up for you guys! I won’t be up here for long, just enough time to play a few more songs, but don’t worry, I’ll be back soon enough!” You hinted, the crowd screaming in response.

You played through all of the songs you’d written, well, except for one. You hadn’t played Miss You More yet, there was a surprise to come later on.

You gave a farewell to the audience, and stepped off stage, the hair and make-up people touching you up before you could even regain your footing.

Louis didn’t particularly like breaks, so the second you were off the platform, he was getting on.

You stood by, waiting for your cue.

The stage manager nodded, and you stepped onto the platform, your dress changed into a skirt and a nice blouse, courtesy of the costume department.

“Now, I have a special guest here to be with me on stage tonight. We both lost our mothers, when they were both remarkably young, and both to cancer. We’ve both written songs about it, and we thought we’d make a mash-up for you guys tonight!” He exclaimed, and the crowd's cheers nearly popped your ear.

Your platform began moving up, revealing you to the crowd. The cheers echoed through the stadium, and you smiled, waving at them, taking your place beside Louis.

You were counted in, and your mashup of Two of Us and Miss You More began. It was one of your favorite things you’d ever taken part in creating, having input from both you and Louis, not just some producers telling you what to do. This was all you.

The last chords of the song bellowed throughout the stadium. The audience’s cries and shouts of praise filled the room once again.

You looked over at Louis, who was busy admiring the crowd, his blue eyes lit up, a genuine smile on his face. It was at this moment that you realized something; you were in love with this man.

His eyes finally caught yours, and he gestured to the crowd, who was still burning as bright as before.

You smiled and whispered, “I love you.”

You knew Louis had gotten great and lip readings he had basically mastered it.

He quickly out his mic back on the stand and pulled you into a hug, leaning down to say something into your ear, just loud enough so you could hear, “I love you too.”

—

The next day, Louis was pulled into an interview before you headed to the next location. The questions were pretty simple ones, mostly openers for him to promote the movie, but there was one question at the end that made you both smile.

“What song did you fall in love to?”

You knew the answer.

A/N: Let me know if you wanna be added to my permanent taglist! Just send an ask or a message!

Permanent Taglist: @everything-is-alrightt

#louis tomlinson fanfiction #louis tomilson #louis tomlinson x reader #louis tommo #louis tomlinson #two of us #fanfic #i’m bored #sorry for being depressing #one direction x reader #one direction

[vaguely-concerned]

The Mandalorian Chapter 11; the rewatch edition

I have found a bit more enthusiasm for this one on the rewatch, so here goes!

- din snapping ‘I’m trying my best here!’ in a vaguely annoyed tone as his entire ship is going up in flames around him because he mostly doesn’t get angry as much as sulky... the height of cinema 

- I love frog husband’s clothes, because they’re in a very similar style and colour scheme to frog lady’s but also incorporate the knitwear we see on the people of trask, so it both underlines his belonging with her and implies that he’s been on this moon for quite a while, they may have been apart for some time  

especially his scarf is a darling detail and there’s a bit of contrast in texture to it next to his wife’s, it’s nice. he’s wearing a similar kind of vest to what we see on the fishermen later, too 

- I think my favourite part of this entire episode (well second after din cradling the baby against him after nearly drowning) is just the design and Vibe of the planet and especially this harbour

for one I LOVE that it’s shown that even in the middle of the day it’s dark enough that the electric lights are still on when it’s overcast (it reminds me a bit of norway during the winter, actually, when dawn just never quite breaks and then slinks off in embarrassment before it’s even noon). and there’s also the... sails? nets? hanging around looking almost like flags, which are very Aesthetic but god knows what they’re for. maybe for drying fish on in the summer? 

I think the building in the distance behind frog husband’s back here is a lighthouse? or it could be one of those towers for loading you see when they scout out the empire ship too, I suppose!

and one for my strange obsession with Texture on this show: these fabric-covered crates!!! they look exactly as dingy and moldy as you’d expect them to be in this climate, I wonder what they’re for (& I vaguely want to touch them) 

- from the sound of it din’s vibroknife is uh ‘on’ when he pokes the squid thing, and he also goes for the tentacle the furthest away from the baby <3

proof the calamari flan have been scratched up a bit during all that time in din’s pockets! (the attention to detail in this show sometimes istg) 

- this is 100% me reading too much into things again, call the overthinking police I’ll do my time meekly lol, but the boat looks a little bit like the mudhorn signet from this angle: 

again din keeps his hand on or sooo close to his blaster in this entire scene, he knows this is sketch as all hell 

a) once again I want to praise the effects team for how GOOD the aliens look in this episode holy shit and b) the hell is this dude wearing on the straps of his overalls tho 

- the dude mando (axe woves) uses his little... wrist launcher thing to shoot with to finish two off the fishermen, so my theory that they can be loaded with other things than the whistling birds for slightly less effective use (maybe without the level of honing we’ve seen din’s be able to do?) is looking good!

- din actually has quite good form when diving into the water, I’m guessing he can swim at least tolerably when not in full armour, being stabbed at from all directions, having just had his son eaten by a sea monster and also being trapped in with said sea monster (I’m a strong swimmer and I can tell you that there’s a reason they make you swim with clothes on from time to time to see how hard it is, it sucks. with metal plates strapped all over you as well? yeah good luck) people don’t tend to hit the water that gracefully without some kind of training in my experience lol. might be some of the training with the jet pack has carried over too, considering he throws himself off that cliff in chapter 12 with similar confidence?

it’s interesting that they’re once again showing us a threat where the armour doesn’t help and even hinders him. we’re so used to the ways it can make him near-invincible, but it can also drag him down (literally, in this case. aha ha ha. well if I’m not here for my own entertainment then what am I here for honestly)

- din’s voice sounding like he’s just on the verge of crying as he cradles the baby (and the sound he makes as he realizes the baby’s alive) is my kryptonite, turns out. fucking breaks my heart into tiny pieces every time, I would die for this man and he wouldn’t let me

- in support of din’s paranoia: so far this season we haven’t been able to go five minutes without someone talking about peeling the precious beskar off a mandalorian corpse, I can see why his mind was primed to move in one particular way there

- I think the fabric of din’s cape has been treated with something that makes it waterproof; the water seems to pearl on top of it rather than soak in! can you imagine how heavy it would get if it did absorb water tho christ

(a bit hard to see at this size but that’s what it looked like to me close up anyway! could also be that it’s wool and that’s why it looks that way but I prefer an elaborate sci-fi explanation here, because it doesn’t look particularly weighed down afterwards) might also explain why he doesn’t seem worried about it catching on fire when he uses the jetpack haha, maybe this is something the mandos do with fabric they’re going to use for a long time 

I also enjoy part of the gambeson/undersuit thing poking up from under the shoulder pauldron and cape; I think this is about as disheveled as we’ve seen him since immediately post-mudhorn 

- the sound mixing in this scene, where din’s breathing is layered a bit over everything else so you almost feel like you’re in the helmet with him listening to what the others are saying........ oh my GOD, it embeds you so deeply in his POV but so subtly 

- not to be biased or anything... but din and the armorer’s armour design is so vastly superior to these guys it shouldn’t even be a competition lol 

din looks like an honest to god knight in shining armour except also sci-fi western and the armorer looks like a fucking war goddess from a time beyond memory; the clone wars mandos look like high end cosplayers (eh maybe it’s just my dislike for the boobplates that has me so 😒 lol. also a lot of dudes were very shitty about that whole thing and I don’t say anything but the ‘vaguely-concerned will remember this’ telltale message pops up in the corner every time) 

moment of saltiness over: I do like the differentiation between their individual character designs 

the differences in body type and helmet design is nice! they look like a unified team, but with individuality. I suspect the ladies have those belts and their armour plates on the hips instead of the front of the thighs to emphasize the ‘female’ silhouette, which. okay fine whatever

- bo katan looks very pointedly down at the baby after saying ‘a group of religious zealots who want to return to the ancient ways’ which makes me VERY nervous for reasons I can’t quite articulate

- the mournful guitar version of the mando theme as din watches the sunset...... hmmmmngh (this might be some Symbolism happening to us folks strap in for the identity crisis he still hasn’t processed) 

- I Cannot get over din being so unimpressed by and uninterested in bo katan’s ‘retake mandalore’ sales pitch from literally the first moment dfhasdkjfhsad sorry lady kryze this man just does not do main quest shit, he’s all side quests all the time and that’s why I love him  

- as someone who after chapter 8 wrote a whole-ass fic that was wholly & exclusively about din telling the baby he’ll always come back for him... some of the shit he’s been saying this season does feel like it’s been written to mercilessly victimize me, personally and specifically 

- guessing this structure in the background is the traffic control tower! doesn’t really matter, I just thought it was neat

- this part of the soundtrack is called ‘ship o hoj, mandalorians!’, which I found incredibly charming haha (it’s ‘ship ahoy’ except how you write it in swedish, good one herr göranson)  

- bo katan is vague about who exactly the new mand’alor would be if they took back mandalore to begin with, she doesn’t specify she is planning to be the ruler until she’s already got din on the ship and in no position to refuse to help. gotta respect the grift at least lol  

I do love her voice, though, it reminds me a bit of jennifer hale as shepard

- “I need to get back to my ship, with the foundling” your honor I uh love him so fucking much 

- frog lady stroking the baby’s back a bit as she holds her hand behind him to make sure he doesn’t fall backwards while playing with the tadpole ;___________;

and also frog husband and frog lady reaching out to hold hands and frog smooching as din and yodito leave ;____________________________________________;

- when din says the exasperated “mon calamari. unbelievable” line, the baby makes that little blowing a raspberry sound he does as if to agree ‘uh-huh unbelu -- unbelly -- unbelievable dad smh’ and it is very very adorable 

- there’s quite a bit of Stuff in the concept art that didn’t make it in this time around; I wonder if maybe they cut some stuff for pacing or whatever and that’s why this episode is so short? water leaking into the cockpit of the razor crest, something that looked a bit like whaling going on on the docks and more spaceships taking off (maybe there were originally meant to be some smaller ships defending the big empire one?), there’s quite a bit here  

#star wars #the mandalorian #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian meta

[popculturebuffet]

Ducktales Review: The First Adventure! or Baby Donald Says Eat the Rich

Welcome back. I’d been looking forward to this one for some time in the hopes of getting one thing i’ve been waiting for.. sadly that thing didn’t come, we’ll get to that, but this was still a fun episode so let’s hop right in. Spoilers in a second but my tag is spoiler tagged soooo.  ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

We open in the 1960′s. Austin Powers just went into Cryo Freeze to prepare for Dr. Evil’s eventual return, The Marvel Universe was in full swing, a teenager in baltimore was battling racisim via a dance show, and Black Heron had just been caught by Agent 22, aka Beakly when she was young and just as gorgeous then as she is now. Heron once again engaged in her usual cartoonish supervillian, and now SHUSH has her.  Meanwhile in a nearbye room a young accountant by the name of Bradford Buzzard is outlining his plan for Director Von Drake: The way he sees it every time a villian costs chaos Shush “Wastes” billions causing MORE chaos to stop it without controlling things. He proposes taking over the world, weeding out the chaos and ruling from the shadows. Naturally, Ludvig isn’t on board with any of this and points out they aren’t super villains. It’s here this episode fully defines something about Bradford’s character. Back in “Let’s Get Dangerous!” when Huey called him a villain, he said he’s not one... at least from his point of view. It’s here, in his youth we get a clear understanding why he dosen’t think so: So far most people we’ve seen in the world of Ducktales take the chaos and insanity of the world in stride: Either just numb to it like most of the citizens, Rolling with it like Daisy and Violet, or diving straight into it like.. pretty much the majority of the cast, either for the love of adventure and treasure like the McDuck/Duck family, or for their own ludcrious ends like Glomgold, Mark Beaks or Magica. To them the world’s fine the way it is and there’s to explore, take or whatever.  To Bradford.. this is madness... he feels all these people are just a bunch of overgrown children, and in some cases actual children, are just making the world worse and worse until one day their going to break it. One day skill, intuition, wit, and knowledge just wont’ be enough. Someday Scrooge, SHUSH or whoever’s standing in the way of evil will fail and the world will fall. This simply can’t go on, and SOMEONE has to control this, someone has to take this world, shake the chaos out of it and MAKE it sane. Make it work the way it’s SUPPOSED to. And to Bradford that’s him. Someone has to, no one else will, so he will. To him SHUSH doing this is just the logical thing: They want peace right? Their fighting for good right? Then what’s better than making the world a utopia? Ending these conflicts and remaking it.  The thing is.. that’s not what Heroes do. As we’ve seen in various stories where the superheroes, the Good Guys take over they do improve things.. but at the cost of free will. At the cost of free thought. At the cost of their morals. They become what they were fighting all those years and have to bloody their hands and keep them bloody just to make THEIR world right. And that’s not Utopia, that’s a dictatorship. The example I always come to, even though there were ones before and after this including Marvel’s incredible Squadron Supreme maxi-series, is Justice League the animated series’ two parter, like most of their episodes really but that’s not the point, a Better World, about an alternate reality where Superman kills Lex Luthor after Luthor kills the flash and hte League take over the world. The thing is.. the world isn’t BETTER. It’s just crime free. You can sweep the chaos and the crime under the rug.. but your not making a better world, your just making YOUR version of it. No one person is a god even if they have a power of one and no one person can or SHOULD be able to decide what’s best for everyone. It’s up to each of us to MAKE the world better, to fight for a better world. That’s what Ludvig knows full well and what Bradford just can’t see. You can’t control the world, you just have to accept the things you can’t change like it being chaotic and change the things you can like injustice. 

Bradford however, who was hired as a favor to his grandmother, can’t though Von Drake lets him off with a warning.. and a laugh about an accountant being able to be a super villian. Bradford however realizes ther’es some truth to that.. he needs someone to teach him out to operate outside the law, and if SHUSH won’t take the world and remake it.. maybe it’s time someone else did.  So in the prison cells of SHUSH, which are conveniently empty outsdide of Heron, Bradford outlines his plan to her. To create a massive orgnization to steal the world and give it the order it needs. To combine their skills: Heron’s for grandeur and crime, and Bradfords for strategy and focus, to take the world. The Orginzation for World Larceny, or OWL, fitting bradford’s hatred for theatrics. Heron objects, adding an F for fiendish, and Bradford relucntantly agrees to get her on board, lets her loose and fakes like he just saw her escape. FOWL is born. And the world would never be the same. Cue credits and cue the rest of the review under the cut. 

After the opening we cut to 1994-5.. sometime around then as it’s hard to get an exact year, and that’s how the crew likes it. Point is it’s the 90′s, and Scrooge is.. busy running his company. We’ll get into the weeds of that in a bit, but this is a different Scrooge, one who while no less capable, has no thirst for adventure or drive. He’s not nearly as miserable as the Scrooge we saw back in Woo-Ooo but he’s still a much less complete man. Anyways alongside him for his planning is Duckworth, whose very much alive at this time, and who tells his boss his sister Hortense left something in his office for him.  To no one suprise, that thing is the twins, at the tender age of i’m guessing 10. Since your probably curious, Della is still voiced by Paget Brewster, just using a slightly different voice like the Triplets and Webby’s voice actors do. It’s just a bit more jarring here since unlike those characters, we’ve seen adult della and thus are used to this voice coming out of a grown woman. It’s not bad and I got used to it eventually but it was jarring at first especially since once again Donald has a completely diffrent voice ACTRESS doing his voice.  This time around it’s cristina valenzuela, of Miraculous Ladybug fame, who I know more for her song work and twitter than her actual work ,but am delighted to see her here and she does a terrific job. I genuneily did not realize it was her, and while not exactly like the late great russi taylor, it is just similar enough to work. 

So we get to see what the Twins were like when they were the Triplets age: Della is about the same, but with more of Dewey’s impulsiveness, and Donald, much like he’d be a few years and some dead parents later, is a bitter, grungey musician whose constantly on his guitar and railing against the man.. which is Scrooge in this case which is fair. Hortense left a note.. which bothered me as I genuinely expected her to show up and was majorly disappointed she did not. We are in year 4 of this series, season 3 and STILL no appearance of Hortense or mention how she died, as she and Quackmore are still alive by the end of this. Given she’s easily my faviorite part of Life and Times, this bothered me, and the only reason i’m not more upset.. is the clever way they wrote around actually using her. The letter she leaves for Scrooge explaining things is the same one Della herself used in the comic strip, and using a bit of the postcard she left in the cartoons, when leaving Huey, Dewey and Louie with Donald, down to the Twins having left a firecracker in their fathers seat, thus leaving him in the hosptial. As disappointed as I am my favorite Ginger is completely absent once again, this is a brilliant reference, and I have to give them credit for it, so it’s a fair enough trade off.  As for his “Angel Nephew and Niece”, Della wants to dive into adventure while Donald struggles to write a song, singing throughout the episode. It varies in tolerablity, though mostly due to the writing, Cristina is doing fine. Della however is disappointed to find her legendary uncle views his past exploits as merley a means to an end to get his fortune and now he has it he can just focus on building it in the boardroom. This is an intresting take.. and one I could easily have seen happening to the Don Rosa version seen in Life and Times. The Scrooge there himself saw building his wealth as the most important thing until his encounter with Teddy Rosevelt, who taught him experince was what mattered and the having isn’t as fun as the getting. It works for me: This is a scrooge who never got that lesson so once he got to be richest duck in the world, having achieved his life’s goal nothing was left. He’s not miserable like the Scrooge we saw at the start of the series, having lost his love for adventure after loosing his niece/daughter, and having lost his fight. This one has retired.. but because he likely just sees no point in going on. He’s the richest duck in the world, has a vast empire.. no amount of treasure is really going to add to that like it used to, and as he points out in a second Shush has tons of agents at this point to clean up what’s left of FOWL. He’s the man who has everything, so why keep going. It’s weird to see a scrooge without the hunger to keep going, but it makes sense when his belly is full. Without someone to get him to see there’s always another rainbow, he just stopped chasing them. Also a fun nod to the comics I almost forgot to mention is when hearing about the “Gift”, i.e. the twins, Scrooge dreads it’s another surprise party, a nod to life and times where Hortense threw Scrooge one that went.. badly and lead to their entire relationship collapsing. Though Donald did get back at Scrooge for screaming at his parents and Auntie Matilda

However his busy day is disrupted with a call from Beakly. They’ve found the last known cordinates of Captain Yellowbeak, but FOWL is on them and Scrooge is the only one Beakly trusts for this since they have a leak. Beakly is also director of SHUSH at this point, with Von Drake having retired or died or both at this point. Scrooge reluctantly accepts, while Della is excited at the prospect of a real adventure and Donald ends up sharing her enthusasim as it’d make a good song. Scrooge, naturally, has no intention of bringing them with him to their disapointment and leads Donald to sing another “Suck it the man song” which totally isn’t about Scrooge.... spoilers: It entirely is, he’s just a little dumbass grunge baby and I love him.  We then get a cute sequence of Della popping up in Scrooge’s Luggage and Trunk to try and convince him to let them tag along, before we cut to the Limo, driven by Duckworth at this point, which solves that mystery. Scrooge is firm in having his butler take them back and have them work with him and Duckworth’s fine with that.. but wants overtime, which is fair. Scrooge, being Scrooge, grumbles about not being made of money, proven wrong by gold spilling out of him. Though I do like the update of Scrooge’s classic cheapness when it comes to pay: INstead of barely paying his employees like a monster, he’s simply reluctant to pay extra if he dosen’t have to, and would rather drag two 10 year olds with him on a dangerous adventure than pay overtime, which tracks. It’s also clear if he had to he WOULD actually pay it, either due to legal reasons or his moral standards, he just isn’t happy about it. So he agrees, though he wants Donald to leave the guitar behind which.. given the most Donald’s been able to come up with is “Suck it THE MAN” and “This guy’s a greedy asshole”.. he’s extremely correct and when Donald tries to pull a “YOU CAN’T CENSOR ME MANNNN”, Scrooge just chucks it out of the car.  At the airfield while Della is excited like an rabid chipmunk, and genuinely thinks she can fly a plane because she’s played Outrunner 2.. which I have only vaguely heard of before now. And is apparently just a pc game where you run a lot so I genuinely do not get where Della gets piloting from that.. but she IS Dewey’s mother. So with that in mind the family take off and Scrooge explains what their after: The Papyrus of Binding. It’s a dangerously powerful magical artifact from Ancient Egypt that will make whatever’s written on it happen. The dangerous part is that it’s incredibly literal: As Bradford puts later in the episode, ask for unlimited power, it might zap you dead with a million volts, ask for infinite wealth, prepare to be crushed underneath it. It’s a nice twist on a Monkey’s Paw or Jackass Genie situation. Instead of either the source of the wish granting magic just being inherently evil, or some dickhead screwing with the hero.. it’s just an object that has no ability to interpret nuance, just like your phone with the goddamn autocorrect. It can’t judge intent or tone or meaning, it just gives exactly what it’s asked. It’s a thoroughly interesting concept. 

Something I really like about this episode is the fact it answers some little questions. While none were Hortense related, and I am still grumpy about that even with this coming out a good 17 hours after I watched it due to getting caught up with other stuff, it does have little touches that explain small parts of the lore: Who drove Scrooge? As just mentioned, Duckworth. Who flew scrooge? Paid pilots. Did he have a plane before the sunchaser? Yup. It fills in some small gaps in the world. Stuff we weren’t dying to know but’s stil lintresting. Said pilots in this case however are Heron and Bradford. This episode also fills in Heron’s character, as while we’ve already seen bits and pieces this season she LOVES being a classic, take over the world james bond type villian, like she stepped out of a duck version of kim possible.. and i’m just now realizing there probably IS a duck kim possible somewhere in this world as while far after disney afternoon, it fits too neatly to not be wedged in there with your tailspins and goof troops. I wouldn’t be suprised if there were brid versions of every human based disney afternoon and one saturday morning show. My.. my head’s swimming from this. I could be, and probably am wrong but the sheer idea of this... it’s amazing.  Back to Heron, she just LOVES being evil and destructive, letting the world know she exists and operating on a grand scale. Now we’ve seen more of her while she’s Beakly’s nemisis.. she’s really an evil scrooge.. yes another one. Like Scrooge, at least how he normally is,  she simply gets how the world of Ducktales operates and can take advantage of that to the best of her ablility. Just like adventuering, cartoonish supervilliany is about risk and reward.. sometimes you faceplamnt hard, that’s the risk, but the rewards and rush is worth it. She’s as addicted to grandoise villiany as Scrooge is to adventure by this point. And like Scrooge, and unlike her partner Bradford, she sees the world as it is: Chaotic and one big sandbox to play in. She contrasts Scrooge by the fact that while Scrooge is willing to bust down doors, he still has morals, as well as the wisdom to not go overboard Heron often lacks. It also makes her a good contrast ot the equally skilled Beakly: While Beakly is taciturn, controlled in all things especially her emotions, Heron is bombastic, gloating and borderline insane, and while deadly in a fight, dosen’t exercise any control in her plans, preferring it big and loud despite her partner usually being right about reiging it in.  So Heron evacuates dramatically, taking a grumpy Bradford with them, and sending the plane into a tailspin. 

I can’t wait for Next Year’s Tailspin episode. I swear to god. I’m hoping for Shere Kahn but this episode has taught me to be okay with disapointment, if a grumpus. Della however shows her natural talent and despite having no real experince with planes, lands it gracefully. While that’s going on, Bradford berates Heron for her plan, pointing out that they COULD have simply landed the plane, then captured the McDuck family and executed them quitely, versus leaving a chance they’ll survive which they do. They AREN’T supervillains.. or at least he thinks he isn’t. Heron does show off her competence though, pointing out that this way they can simply stay low, and FOLLOW the Ducks to the treasure. Bradford is impressed for a second.. till Heron’s evil shows as she plans to use the Papyrus. Bradford loudly objects to this, listing the possible risks shown before. If not used CAREFULLY, it could kill them, and she balks and wants him to just embrace being the Villian already. It’s what I love about their dynamic set up here: While they are equals, Bradford is a better strategist, able to think and plan way in advance, and prefers subterfuge, and if present day is any indicatoin probably used Heron’s flash to distract from the real mission or goal often or to do something on the down low while she kept SHUSH busy. His last two plans, while again requiring some pizzaz, relied on misdrection: having the ducks take care of an immidate threat like their used to.. while he gets exactly what he wants while their busy and whatever they get out of it is either nothing (Impossibin) or something he couldn’t use just yet and thus if he didn’t get it, no loss, but if he did it just moves up the timetable. Not only that but he’s outlasted all three other big bads, lying in the shadows till it was too risky to leave scrooge and play and even THEN, only coming out into the open when forced out. IT’s why he’s Scrooge’s most dangerous opponent: He knows how Scrooge’s other enmities operates as well as Scrooge himself. And since he knows everything he can maneuver Scrooge exactly where he needs him to do exactly what he wants. It’s unknown how the family will beat him, but he’s easily the biggest challenge they’ve had. 

But back to the show and the past, Scrooge bonds with his niece and nephew, retelling stories of his past as they get closer, with Donald ending up high at one point and thus seeing the ship stranded on a mountain. As he recounts a fight with El Capitan, the villian from the ducktales 87 pilot, he counts the story as as a loss: He didn’t get anything from it, no treasure no new contracts. But Della shows him the point he’s been missing; He got a story. Sure he lost.. but he got experince, a tale to tell and a legend grown.Just because you don’t get everything dosen’t mean it wasn’t worth the experince and you can’t hold it in your heart. And this episode shows why this scrooge needed his family: Without Teddy to mentor him, he simply never got that adventure wasn’t about gains or what you get.. it’s about the thrill of it, the enjoyment of discovery and the memories you make.. it’s about the Journey not the destination. 

As Scrooge starts to warm up to that, he finds a gap, with Della volunteering Donald to jump but Scrooge just having the kids hop on his back and pogo caneing across. The family find the Papyrus, and find out why the ship is all the way up here: Captain Yellowbeak, who’s a character from one of barks stories and the one who had the scroll last, wished to escape.. but that just stranded them. He asked for water.. and it drowned his crew.. and finally with the document hteir reading he asked for release... and thus is now a skelington. The kid are happy to have reached the goal.. while Scrooge is back on his Zack Morris phone trying to reschedule things and schedule a SHUSH evac, to the kids annoyance. However Scrooge raining on their parade gets interupted by Heron and Bradford, as Heron can’t resist popping out dramatically and Bradford is UTTERLY furious since she blew his cover, and Scrooge recognizes him from his christmas party, a nice callback. Scroog being scrooge figures out he’s the mole and Bradford runs , furious at Heron. Their conflict is an intresting one: Both have a point but both will not back down. Bradford is right this showboating nonsense has only hindered Heron’s plans.. and Heron is right that Bradford needs to accept he’s the bad guy. Even if he has well meaning motives, he’s the villian, he works with them, he leads them.. he is one.  He just can’t accept he’s wrong or dosen’t have the answers... huh.. I wonder who that reminds you of. And that’s 100% intentional as Frank has outright compared Huey and Bradford and like last season it’s neat to have the main vilian contrast our chosen Duck for the season. 

Heron outfoxes the kids and gets the papyrus and being just an enitrely black hearted bitch, plans to kill them just to spite scrooge.. writing that “his sidekicks will perish on this mission.”.... but Scrooge’s character development, and her choice of words, means nothing happens. As Scrooge outlines, “Their not my sidekicks their my FAMILY, and this isn’t a mission, it’s an ADVENTURE”. Scrooge has finally accepted his life for what it really is.. and the thrill of the chase over what lies at the end. There’s always anothe rainbow.. and he’s finally become the man who will chase every last one. 

OF course this is interupted, and Heron escapes with the papyrus, when a skeletal pirate attacks.. why is Yellow Beak alive, why’d the scroll do this?

But we get a neat fight as Scrooge fights the skeleton while he sends the kids after Heron. Scrooge gets a cool looking swordfight, while Bradford gets the papyrus, and Yellowbeak even terrifies me what with his bestial roll and fucking centepede crawling out of him.. jesus those things freak me out.  Meanwhile the kids battle Heron, who throws della overboard... and thus for the first time, Donald taps into his beserker rage, snikty snoink, and easily incapaciates the more experinced and fully grown adul, though Della since we’eve been following her kids for the past three seasons, is fine, if suprised by her brother being the goddamn wolverine. 

While heron is out for a second, Scrooge heads after Bradford, and vows to tell Beakly and chase him all across the world. However Bradford gets an utterly awesome moment.. he admits scrooge may be right and probably would.. but since he has the papayrus and is careful in everything he writes his request carefully and perfectly “As far as the ducks are concerned, I was never here.” Grante dit COULD have left scrooge out.. but since he didn’t sday duck family or specificy, and likely knew it’d do that, it instead just means the three bilogical ducks. Bradford dissappears, turning invisble and leaving the papyrus for scrooge, who foils heron by simply writing that this scroll will be lost until one day found by his heirs.

So Heron takes a fall and looses an arm, again.. or for the first time.. the family is triumphant and despite loosing his goal, Scrooge is convinced he and the kids will find it again. See above. Scrooge then pulls out his phone and tells Duckworth to rework his schedule.. but it’s so he can find someone to run his comapny so he can spend more time with the kids. As for why Hortense would allow this before her still mysterious passing.. i’m guessing A) she notices her brother is happier and more alive than he’s been for a while and B) they just blew up their dad’s ass with a firecracker, and she won’t be able to use it for a while, so she’s double mad, so if it means she gets a moment’s peace and is with someone she trusts.. why not?

So we end on Scrooge packing up, preparing for further adventures.. i’d love a spinoff of this one day. I mean Disney plus needs it, and since Frank is probably going over to Darkwing.. maybe matt could take a crack at this. Just saying. You have the cast ready, a giant world to explore, and 15 years worth adventures. Run that baby damn you! But yeah the inevitble happens and Bradford further proves his magificent bastardry.. by appling for the position of running the company as head of Scrooge’s board, and setting up said board. So now FOWL has unlimited resources, he has a direct eye on what he now realizes is his greatest threat, and the complete trust and faith of both Scrooge and Beakly. It also puts Beakly’s breakdown in context: We now see WHY she went as far as she did: While the revelation was bad for Scrooge, finding out one of his most trusted allies was a traitor the whole time and knew everything about him, for Beakly.. it had to be worse. Finding out one of your best employees, one of the FEW people you ever trusted, and someone you DIRECTLY RECOMMENDED TO SCROOGE, was not only the man who set up your greatest enemies, but had compromised your organization for most of your career. IT’s no wonder she broke down so hard.. while I already gave several reason adding “This level of betrayal and self doubt to the list” only makes it that much harder on her. But for now a partnership is started.. one that very well may end scrooge. 

Final Thoughts: A pretty good episode overall. It’s well paced, to the point I probably forgot a LOT, has some good jokes, and fills in a lot of the gaps in the lore, while giving us a nice insight into bradford and heron. Even without hortense this was a pretty good episode. 

Upcoming Reviews: LIfe and Times; Master of the Mississippi Ride of the Three Cabbleros: The Three Cablleros (House of Mouse) Tomtrospective: Lava Lake Beach

#ducktales #ducktales spoilers #scrooge mcduck #bradford buzzard #della duck #donald duck #black heron #bentina beakley #the first adventure! #the first adventure #cristina vee

[dustedmagazine]

Dust Volume 7, Number 5

Sarah Louise

A week or two before this Dust’s deadline, we got our first tour announcement by email in more than a year. It was the first of deluge, as live music looks to be coming back with a vengeance starting this summer and really picking up steam around September. Meanwhile, we celebrate our newly vaxxed (or for our Canadian correspondents half-vaxxed) status with tentative steps outside. Your editor had her first beer at a brew pub in mid-May, and it was stupendous. Also stupendous, the onslaught of new music, which has, if anything, accelerated. This month, contributors include all the regulars plus a few new people: Jennifer Kelly, Bill Meyer, Patrick Masterson, Ray Garraty, Tim Clarke, Andrew Forell, Ian Mathers, Bryon Hayes, Jonathan Shaw and Chris Liberato. Happy spring, happy normal and happy listening!

Amulets — Blooming (The Flenser)

Blooming by AMULETS

Like a lot of us, Portland-based noise artist Randall Taylor discovered the solace of long walks during the pandemic. His work, which has always used tape degradation to explore the intersection of time, loss and technology, shifted to incorporate another source of decay: the natural world. So, in opening salvo, “Blooming,” alongside blistering onslaughts of eroded guitar sound, it is possible to hear the sounds of a fertile garden — birds, insects, air movement. You can nearly smell the flowers and feel the sunshine on your skin. “The New Normal” explores sounds of creaking, friction-y word and metal, alongside pristine chimes of synthetic tone. It is uneasy, with skittering string-like squeaks and swoops, but also deeply meditative; it shifts from moment to moment from anxiety to provisional acceptance, much as we all did last year, staring out our windows. Overall, the tone is elegiac, gorgeous, but Randall does not hesitate to introduce dissonance. “Heaviest Weight” thunders with frayed bass tones, a weight and a threat in their subliminal pulse. The contrast between that ominous sound and purer, clearer layers of melody, makes for unsettling listening—are we at war or peace, happy or sad, agitated or calm? And yet, perhaps that’s the point, that the past year has been swirl of feelings, boredom alongside anxiety, hope lighting the corners of our listlessness, the smell of flowers pleasing but faintly reminiscent of funerals. Blooming decocts this mix into sound.

Jennifer Kelly

 Astute Palate — S-T (Petty Bunco)

Astute Palate by Astute Palate

Astute Palate is a hastily assembled group of rockers summoned to support David Nance in Philly on a date when he couldn’t bring the David Nance Band. Participants included Richie Records proprietor Richie Charles, Lantern’s Emily Robb, Writhing Squares/Purling Hiss/all around Philadelphia regular Daniel Provenzano on bass and, of course, Nance himself, all huddled together in Robb’s recording studio for a weekend together. None of this origin story does justice, however, to the pure liquid fire of this one-off musical collaboration, dominated by Nance’s viscous, distorted blues-inflected guitar wail, but knocked sideways by brute force drumming, wild hypnotic bass lines and the ritual incantation of Nance (and later Robb) singing. The long “Stall Out” does anything but, rampaging free-range in unbridled Crazy Horse/Allmans-style abandon for close to ten minutes without a single sputter. “A Little Proof” is somehow simultaneously heavier and more country, spinning out the soul-blues jams like a younger, unrulier cousin to MC5. “Treadin’ Schuylkill” gives Provenzano the spotlight, opening with a growling bass solo soon joined by heavy psych guitars (a nod, perhaps, to the illustrious locals in Bardo Pond). If Nance et. al. can pull stuff this fine out in a stray road warrior weekend, what are the rest of you doing with your lives?

Jennifer Kelly

 Axis: Sova — Fractal (God?)

Fractal - EP by Axis: Sova

Axis: Sova is a combo of three Chicago guys plus one drum machine, which had already been inactive for two or three seasons before the initial COVID lockdown. This digital EP is their way of clearing up some business that could no longer remain undone. The title tune, “Fractal USA,” is a remake of a song from the early days, when the “band” was Brett Sova’s solo project, to full-on, no your pants aren’t tight enough rock band. They just needed you to know about the evolution, you see, so go ahead, do some scissor kicks and gurn while they windmill away; you have enough money saved up from not seeing live music to pay the inevitable chiropractor bill. “Caramel” hypothesizes that a Cluster song that’s played twice as loud and twice as long is twice as good; not sure if I agree, but it’s still not bad at all. Maybe you got a little weird after a few months of putting on your best mask for your daily trip to see if the stimulus check was in the mailbox? The Brenda Ray-meets-Old Black mash up, “(Don’t Wanna Have That) Dream,” is proof that while you were alone, you weren’t alone. If you’ve made it this far, you don’t need to have the fourth track described, so let’s just say that it’s longer.

Bill Meyer

Mattie Barbier — Three Spaces (self-released)

three spaces by mattie barbier

While perhaps best known as half of the trombone-centric new music duo RAGE Thormbones, Mattie Barbier is a member of several other combos and a sonic researcher under their own name. Three Spaces, which is a single, album-length sound file, has the air of experimentation about it. “What do I do,” one can imagine Barbier asking themself, “when I can’t play with other people?” Make music at home, and out of what’s at home, is the obvious answer. But doing isn’t the only point here; the outcome also matters, and while what Barbier has accomplished with Three Spaces sounds quite different from the RAGE Thormbones live experience, it registers quite strongly. Barbier has combined long tones and melodic fragments played on euphonium, trombone and reed organ, that were recorded both inside and outside of their home. Carefully layered, the source material combines into a sound rather like a bell’s toll, which over the course of nearly 39 minutes swells and recedes, but never quite decays; it ends with an imposed rather than natural fade-out. The sound is as deep as it is expansive, inviting the listener to let themselves fall ever father into its realm.

Bill Meyer

 Beneath — On Tilt EP (Hemlock Recordings)

On Tilt EP by Beneath

One of the more pleasant surprises this year is the resuscitation of Untold’s Hemlock Recordings imprint. A vital voice in the post-dubstep fracas at the turn of the ‘10s thanks to releases from Hessle Audio’s Pearson Sound (when he was still Ramadanman) and Pangaea, James Blake, FaltyDL and Hodge to name but a handful, the label went dormant following a Ploy 12” in 2017 before the surprise announcement of Londoner Beneath’s On Tilt, which sounds every bit the sensible alliance in practice it looks on paper: These are low-end rumblers with irregular rhythms and spare melodic tics that worm their way into your brain in the best bone-humming fashion (see “Shambling” or “Lesser Circulation” for a good example). Who knows how long the return will last, but for a certain stripe of DMZ-damaged devotee and pretty much no one else, it’ll feel good to have some Hemlock in your life again. Tilt back, pour in.

Patrick Masterson

 Black Spirit— El Sueño De La Razón Produce Monstruos (Infinite Night Records)

More metal comes from South America than Spain, but these Europeans clear the high bar set by Latin America scenesters. The album’s title states that it was inspired by “El Sueño De La Razón Produce Monstruos.” That can testify both to lasting influence of Goya’s art and to the laziness of the current culture which seeks inspiration only from the most popular pictorial art of the past. The track “Ignorance and The Grotesque” perfectly captures the whole mood of the disc: it balances ignorant speeds, undecipherable vocals and grotesque parts with piano interludes and doom-ish atmosphere. It would be better without the grotesque, but that’s probably part of the baggage.

Ray Garraty

 Burial + Blackdown — Shock Power of Love EP (Keysound Recordings)

Shock Power of Love EP by Burial

You might worry, occasionally, that Burial was becoming a victim of diminishing returns. Here, as ever, he uses a narrow palette to create tracks that few can emulate. However, even though the music has its rewards, it doesn’t clear the very high bar that his previous work has set. Thus “Dark Gethsemane” rides a 4/4 beat, angelic murmurs, vinyl crackle and a tightly ratcheted build that morphs into a sermon led by the repeated invocation “We must shock this nation with the power of love.” As his vocal samples become more explicit, the mystery of his music fades. This is all promise and no real resolution. “Space Cadet’ likewise sounds both gorgeous and minor with its soul gospel refrain “Take Me Higher” over an old-school jungle beat. At six plus minutes it would have been enough. It continues another three with an almost cartoonish second movement that lacks the subtlety that characterizes Burial’s best work.

Andrew Forell 

  Colleen — The Tunnel and the Clearing (Thrill Jockey)

The Tunnel and the Clearing by Colleen

While COVID messed with most people’s lives, it was both an endgame and an opportunity for Cécile Schott, the Frenchwoman who records under the name Colleen. She was just coming out of a series of health and personal dislocations, which resulted in her being newly healthy but alone in a new town just as the lockdown came down. Clearly, this was not a time for half measures, so she selected an entirely new instrumental set-up and settled in to make a record that reflected what she’d been through. Out went the viola da gamba and melodica that have figured prominently on her last few albums; in came a Moog synthesizer, a Yamaha organ, a tape echo and a drum machine.  

Colleen’s voice, of course, remains the same. Airy and precise, her delivery doesn’t match the gravity of the experiences her songs describe. But that sense of remove is, perhaps, a reflection of one of adversity’s lessons; if you don’t stay stuck, you can wind up somewhere quite different. Between the keyboards’ cycling melodies and the drum machine’s fizzy beats, the music on The Tunnel and the Clearing imparts a sense of motion that carries her light voice along for the ride, dropping painful sentiments and letting them fall behind.

Bill Meyer  

 Current Joys — Voyager (Secretly Canadian)

Nick Rattigan has been releasing music under the name Current Joys since 2013, and Voyager is his latest offering. It’s a dramatic and often brilliant collection of songs, bringing to mind the urgent rhythmic drive of Spoon, the dour grandeur of The Cure and the unapologetic emotional heft of Bright Eyes or early Arcade Fire. On Voyager’s standout, “American Honey,” a simple strummed backing and Rattigan’s vocal delivery are potent enough, but it’s the string section that proves devastating, cycling around for multiple punches to the gut. While more stripped-back songs such as “Big Star” and “The Spirit or the Curse” offer some respite along the way, Voyager does prove a little unwieldy. With 16 tracks clocking in at nearly an hour, the album’s execution doesn’t quite live up to its ambition. The wonky tom-tom rhythms of “Breaking the Waves” are more distracting than interesting; a serviceable cover of Rowland S. Howard’s “Shivers” feels more like an acknowledgment of influence than a striking interpretation; and the combined six minutes of the two-part instrumental title track may have worked better as shorter interludes. Nevertheless, plenty of Voyager’s tracks demonstrate Rattigan’s knack for a raw, emotive indie-rock tune.

Tim Clarke

 Ducks Ltd — Get Bleak EP (Carpark Records)

Toronto duo Ducks Ltd celebrates signing to Carpark with an expanded re-release of their 2018 debut EP Get Bleak. The pair — Tom Mcgreevy on vocals, rhythm and bass guitars and Evan Lewis on lead guitar — bonded over a shared love of 1980s indie bands. Their intricately constructed guitar interplay carries the DNA of Postcard and C86 over meaty bass lines that evoke Mighty Mighty as much as Orange Juice and McCarthy. The sprightly music belies the miserablism of the lyrics that focus on FOMO, poor decisions, screen induced isolation, the corrosive impact of gentrification and gig economies. Mcgreevy and Lewis don’t wallow, however. Their jaunty jangle is a paean to the joys of jumping about and singing along with those new favorite songs that suddenly mean everything and will stick with you long after the world’s shit slopes your shoulders.

Andrew Forell

 Field Music — Flat White Moon (Memphis Industries)

It’s easy to take Field Music for granted. Since 2005, the Brewis brothers have been making smartly composed and tightly executed guitar pop with obvious debts to The Beatles and XTC, and all their albums have fallen somewhere along the continuum from good to great (my personal favorites are 2010’s Measure and 2012’s Plumb). Album number eight, Flat White Moon, features the usual balance between Peter’s more pensive, bittersweet numbers with greater focus on piano and strings, such as “Orion From the Street” and “When You Last Heard From Linda,” and David’s funkier, more staccato cuts, such as “No Pressure” and “I’m the One Who Wants to Be With You.” Twelve songs, 40 minutes, tunes for days — what’s not to love? If you’ve yet to get acquainted with Field Music, Flat White Moon is as good an introduction as any.

Tim Clarke 

 Gabby Fluke-Mogul/Jacob Felix Heule/Kanoko Nishi-Smith — Non-Dweller (Humbler)

non-dweller by gabby fluke-mogul, Jacob Felix Heule, & Kanoko Nishi-Smith

With Non-Dweller, we have a trio of Bay-Area improvisers who certainly do not reside in one place for very long. There is an agitated freneticism about their interactions here, the performers acting like electrons seeking to release energy and break out of orbit. Each player brings a unique collection of timbres to the party with their implement of choice. Heule is a percussionist by trade yet focuses on extended techniques — mainly friction-based — as he wrests an unholy wail from the maw of his bass drum. Fluke-Mogul’s violin sways between tone generator and noise source. Nishi-Smith is a classically trained pianist who here is bowing and plucking the koto, or Japanese zither. The trio spend most of their time in sparring mode, their energies unleashed with synchrony as if in an elaborate dance. It is clear they have collaborated before. Heule and Nishi-Smith have been at it for over a decade; Fluke-Mogul joined the party in 2019. The most gorgeous moments happen when all three players are focused on friction: Heule slides across his drum, Fluke-Mogul soars with their violin and Nishi-Smith gracefully bows her koto. The energy is focused and particles collide, creating waves of tone. The players wrestle intensity into submission, and the ensuing sonorities are unmissable.

Bryon Hayes

 FMB DZ — War Zone (Fast Money Boyz \ EMPIRE)

Ever since FMB DZ got shot and moved out of Detroit, he has continued to release angry music. (He may not be more productive after the assault, but he’s certainly not less so.) War Zone is his latest effort, along with The Gift 3 and Ape Season, and DZ is back in his paranoiac mode and ready for vengeance. That’s hardly unusual in this type of music but DZ stands out because he’s a bit angrier, a bit more pressing and a bit more gifted than the next man. He doesn’t outdo himself in this tape, but rather mostly follows the blueprint of Ape Season. The standout track is “Spin Again.”

Ray Garraty

 Ian M Fraser — Berserk (Superpang)

Berserk by Ian M Fraser

Ian M Fraser is kind enough to provide details about how he created and edited Berserk, although relatively few listeners are going to really know what “nonlinear feedback systems and waveset synthesis” are, let alone “sensormonitor primitives auditory perception software”. And fewer still will be able to focus on what that might mean while Berserk is actually playing, because the output of those programs and systems is immediately, viscerally clear. If a computer were actually capable of going rabid, feral, well, berserk, the human mind might imagine it sounds something like this. Over four shorter tracks and the relatively epic 8:26 of “The Cannibal,” Fraser either coaxes or allows (or both) his tools into the equivalent of something like what someone who knew very little about both genres might imagine is like a power electronics act playing free jazz or vice versa. It is absolutely viscerally thrilling (albeit probably easier to repeat at this length of 16 minutes than, say, 50) and will do the track the next time you feel like your brain needs a good hard scrub.

Ian Mathers 

  Human Failure — Crown on the Head of a King of Mud (Sentient Ruin Laboratories)

Crown on the Head of a King of Mud by Human Failure

It’s tough to figure out if the band’s name is meant specifically to apply to D. Cornejo (sole member of Human Failure) or to the general field of human failure, which grows ever more capacious. Whatever the intent, Human Failure makes thoroughly unlovable music, pitched somewhere on the continuum that runs from the primitivist death metal to stenchcore to harsh noise. This reviewer is especially fond (yep, somehow that’s the only word for it) of the title track of this 10” record: “Crown on the Head of a King of Mud” sloughs and slogs along for two minutes, sort of like one of the ripest zombies in Romero’s Day of the Dead (1985), wandering about and slowly falling to pieces in Florida’s tumid heat. Just as that last bit of flesh is poised to slide from bone, the song unexpectedly breaks into a run. Where is it going? What’s the rush? No one knows. Things eventually bottom out into “Disassembling Morality,” a static-and-distortion laden electronic interlude that might squeak and spark for a bit too long — but then “Your Hope Is a Noose” shambles into the frame. That zombie seems to have found some equally noisome and truculent friends. They djent and pogo around for a while, and the song has a lot more fun than seems called for by the band name. Cornejo might be pissed off by the myriad manmade disasters and outright catastrophes that burden the earthball (he’s sure angry as heck about something…). But the record ends up being sort of successful, if deafening, grinding, growling stench is on the agenda. All things considered, why wouldn’t it be?

Jonathan Shaw

 Insub Meta Orchestra — Ten / Sync (Insub)

Ten / Sync by INSUB META ORCHESTRA

Ten / Sync was recorded in September, 2020; not exactly lockdown time, but certainly not out of the pandemic woods. It’s no small task to keep any 50-strong orchestra going, let alone one devoted to experimental music. So, if you already have one, then having it perform during a pandemic is just another challenge among many. So, the Swiss-based orchestra assembled three groups of musicians, numbering 31 in all, and assembled their contributions during post-production. While this did not provide the social experience that IMO’s gatherings usually impart to participants, an outcome that just isn’t the same seems awfully representative of the time, right? And since one Insub Meta Orchestra subspeciality is making music that sounds like it was performed by many fewer players than were actually present, this collection of sustained chords concealing tiny actions and apparently disassembled passages is actually very representative of the ensemble’s music.

Bill Meyer

Amirtha Kidambi & Matteo Liberatore — Neutral Love (Astral Editions)

Neutral Love by Amirtha Kidambi & Matteo Liberatore

With her own group, the Elder Ones, and in Mary Halvorson’s Code Girl, singer Amirtha Kidambi shows how far you can take a song while still giving the meanings of words and the boundaries of form their dues. But Neutral Love, like her two tapes with Lea Bertucci, explores the territory outside the tower of song. The main structures for this improvised encounter with electric guitarist Matteo Liberatore seem to be a shared agreement to exclude certain options. Song form and overt displays of chops are right out; the patient manipulation of sounds is where it’s at. Liberatore opts mostly for swelling and subsiding resonations, while Kidambi spends a lot of time finding out what’s hiding at the back of her throat, drawing it out, and then tying it into elaborate shapes. Patient and eerie, these four tracks find a place adjacent to Charalambides at their most abstract, and make it their own.

Bill Meyer

 Kosmodemonic — Liminal Light (Transylvanian Recordings)

KOSMODEMONIC - LIMINAL LIGHT by KOSMODEMONIC

NYC outfit Kosmodemonic is among the recent wave of metal bands attempting to effect an organic-sounding synthesis of numerous subgenres: a slurry of sludge, a bit of black metal, a dose of doom, and a hit or two of the lysergic. When it works — as it does on a number of tracks on the band’s long new cassette Liminal Light — it’s an exciting sound. Songs like “Moirai” and “Broken Crown” manage to couple tuneful riffs, dirty tone and a muscular bottom end in ways that feel thumping, groovy and pretty weird. You’ll want to bump your butt around even as you’re looking for something to break. But the tape is pretty long, and the further afield Kosmodemonic gets from that mid-tempo groove, the more middling (and sometimes muddled) the material sounds. “With Majesty” can’t quite find its rhythmic footing in its more technical passages, and the song’s sludgier sections feel like compromises, rather than interesting maneuvers. But the record begins and finishes with really strong songs. Both “Drown in Drone” and “Unnaming Unlearning” embrace scale, letting their big riffs rip. When “Unnaming Unlearning” slips into complex sections of blackened and distorted dissonance, the drama surges. Formal experiment and manipulation of mood fold into each other. The song gets interesting, even as it’s reaching for a peak. And then it ends, suddenly, violently. It’s pretty good. Your impulse is to flip the tape and hear it again, which is just what Kosmodemonic wants you to do. Well played, dudes.

Jonathan Shaw

 Sarah Louise — Earth Bow (Self-Released)

Earth Bow by Sarah Louise

Asheville-based songwriter Sarah Louise wants to be your personal nature interpreter. The titles of her recordings, from her debut Field Guide through Deeper Woods and Nighttime Birds and Morning Stars are like planetary signposts pointing to a more intimate relationship with our planet as a living organism. With each successive release, her music has also become more and more organic sounding, culminating with Earth Bow, in which Louise herself is arms deep in humus, communing with birds and insects. Recordings of creation feature prominently; katydids, spring peeper frogs, a creek and various birds are credited as providing additional singing, augmenting the artist’s own mellifluous voice. For a recording in which the track titles and lyrics are focused on nature and Louise’s experiences therein, there are a lot of digital elements. Her 12-string guitar is prominent in places, but synths are everywhere: in the background, bouncing around like shooting stars, and mimicking the various fauna that they accompany. Yet the earthly and the machine-made are not juxtaposed, they are blended. The vocals, which center the recordings, tie both elements together nicely. Earth Bow is a tasty concoction, in which a variety of ingredients are married in botanical bliss.

Bryon Hayes

 Le Mav — “Supersonic (Feat. Tay Iwar)” (Immaculate Taste)

Nigeria’s alté scene has been bubbling for a couple of years now on the backs of guys like Odunsi (The Engine) and Santi, and Gabriel Obi bka Le Mav is no stranger to the fray, having produced Santi’s “Sparky,” Aylø and a recurring favorite of his, singer Tay Iwar. The two have already collaborated at length (for songs off Iwar’s debut album Gemini in 2019, as well as the entirety of last year’s Gold EP), so the comfort level here is established. It shows: Iwar’s smooth-as vocals match Le Mav’s breezy piano descent and gentle rhythmic shuffle in an easygoing song that matches anything you might hear coming from Miguel, Frank Ocean or the Sun-El Musician orbit. “If it feels right, touch the sky,” Iwar suggests early on. Well, don’t mind if I do.

Patrick Masterson

 Sugar Minott — “I Remember Mama” (Emotional Rescue)

I Remember Mama by Sugar Minott

At some point after Lincoln Barrington Minott had left Kingston and his early dancehall and lovers rock legacy with Studio One and Black Roots behind for cooler climates and the old world of London, he ran into producer Steve Parr at the Wackies offices. Story goes that the two decided to start up Sound Design Studio with the intent to record and mix for ads, film and music — but scant evidence of this idea exists beyond “I Remember Mama,” released on 7” and 12” in 1985 and reissued for the first time since via Stuart Leath and his long-trusted Emotional Rescue imprint. Parr does most of the work on the recording (Andy MacDonald shines on tenor sax and Paul Uden guitar in the original credits), but it’s all about the sweetness Sugar brings to the table: With backing from two accomplished performers in their own right, Janette Sewell and Shola Phillips, Minott’s naturally relaxed delivery shines through on this. “Sound Design” is a dubbier instrumental version that retains Sewell’s and Phillips’ vocals, and Dan Tyler (half of Idjut Boys) provides an even spacier, handclap-laden 11-minute remix, but while both variants are excellent, the boogie of the original is unassailable. Look for the vinyl to hit in July.

Patrick Masterson

 Jessica Ackerley — Morning/mourning (Cacophonous Revival)

Morning/mourning by Jessica Ackerley

It makes sense that Wendy Eisenberg wrote the liner notes to Morning/mourning, since they and Jessica Ackerley are bound by a shared commitment to string-craft. Both have a deep idiomatic foundation in jazz guitar, but neither is willing to be confined by what they’ve learned. In the case of Morning/mourning, that means that patiently paced ruminations upon Derek Bailey-like harmonics sit side by side with frantic but rigorously scripted forays that sound a bit like Jim Hall might if he input the contents of his French press intravenously. This album’s nine tracks observe passings and new beginnings, since Ackerley pulled the recording together while in quarantine, shortly before leaving Manhattan for Honolulu, and titled some of them in tribute to a pair of guitar teachers who were taken by 2020. But in their attention to tone, harmony, velocity and structure, these pieces, like Eisenberg’s records, speak as much to intellect as to emotion.

Bill Meyer

 Nadja & Disrotted — Split (Roman Numeral Records)

It makes a certain kind of sense for Nadja and Disrotted to tackle a split together; although both bands traffic in a particularly foreboding strain of doom metal, they also share a weird sort of comfort. There’s a sense more of horrible things happening around you than to you, like you’re in the eye of the storm or maybe in a bathysphere plunged to crushing depths. There is a precision to the menace, a measured quality to the noise. And they get there when they get there; as Dusted’s Jonathan Shaw pointed out in his review of Disrotted’s Cryongenics, “Pace seems to be the point.” This excellent split doesn’t shy away from these commonalities while still highlighting the distinct timbres of each act, with Nadja settling into and then returning to one of their indelibly titanic bass riffs throughout the 19-minute “From the Lips of a Ghost in the Shadow of a Unicorn's Dream” and Disrotted somehow conjuring the feeling of a massive structure corroding and collapsing on the 15-minute “Pastures for the Benighted”. When the latter slams to a half, one last hit echoing away, the listener may find themselves feeling equally relieved the onslaught is over and kind of missing both sides’ pulverizing embrace.

Ian Mathers 

 Nasimiyu — POTIONS (Figureight)

P O T I O N S by nasimiYu

Nasimiyu’s songs bounce and shimmy with complex rhythms, her background as a dancer and percussionist for Kabells and Sharkmuffin coming through in the intricate interplay of handclaps, breathy beat-boxing, rattling metal implements, all manner of drums and, not least, her lithe, twining vocal lines. “Watercolor” blossoms out of a burst of choral “la”s, each note allowed to flower briefly before behind cut off with a knife-edge; these are organic sounds shaped with mechanical precision. Against this background, Nasimiyu herself enters, her voice fluttery and syncopated, a bit like Neneh Cherry. The mix is full of separate elements, the backing vocals, a synthesizer working as a bass, handclaps, Nasimiyu’s singing, but the song remains light and translucent. “Feelings,” sings Nasimiyu, “I am in my feelings,” and so, for a moment, are we. Nasimiyu is half Kenyan and half Scandinavian-American, and you can hear a bit of East Africa in the surging sweetness of choral singing on “Immigrant Hustle.” But there’s a post-modern gloss over everything, as the singer brings in sonic elements from jazz, electronica, dance, pop and afro-beat. Yet however many layers are added, the sound remains bright and clear, a bead curtain of musical sensation whose elements click faintly as they brush together, but remain essentially separate.

Jennifer Kelly

 Carlos Niño & Friends — More Energy Fields, Current (International Anthem)

More Energy Fields, Current by Carlos Niño & Friends

Multi-instrumentalist and producer Carlos Niño latest album which straddles and largely crosses the line between spiritual jazz and new age ambience features friends from both worlds including Shabaka Hutchings, Jamael Dean, Dntel and Laraaji. Niño, who plays percussion and synthesizer, edited, mixed and produced the album from recordings made in 2019 and 2020 in a variety of settings. The results are largely low-key soundscapes designed to assist meditation on the fields and current of the title. Much evocation of the natural world, chiming eastern influenced percussion and layers of acoustic and synthetic keys that are lovely but tend to lull. It is the slightly disruptive reeds that prick the ears here, Aaron Hall’s plangent tenor on “Now the background is foreground,” Devin Daniels’ alto phrasing on “Together” and Hutchings’ expressive duet with Dean on “Please, wake up.”

Andrew Forell 

 Shane Parish — Disintegrated Satellites (Bandcamp subscription)

Disintegrated Satellites EP by Shane Parish

The normally ultra-productive Shane Parish didn’t put out a lot of music in 2020, and none of what did come out was recorded that year. It turns out that he was busy giving guitar lessons via zoom and moving from North Carolina to Georgia, but we’re well into a new year and he’s back in Bandcamp. This three tune EP doesn’t declare a new direction, of which Parish has had many, so much as an integration of his interests in American folk music and far Eastern tonalities. Simultaneously familiar and alien, but above all propulsive, it serves notice that the time for reflection has passed.

Bill Meyer 

 Séketxe — “Caixão de Luxo” (Chasing Dreams)

The thing that gets your attention about Séketxe is… well, everything: how many of them there are (i.e., how you can’t really tell who’s in the group and who isn’t), how they’re all propellant, a musical bottle rocket bursting out of your speakers, confrontationally in your face on camera — and how much fun it looks like they’re having. Somewhere out there beyond the reaches of kuduro and Mystikal lie the Angolan barks and rasps of this youthful sextet, who trade verses (and a soothing harmony drizzled right across the madness at around 1:40) among one another over an Eddy Tussa sample on a beat by producer about town Smash Midas. What are they on about? My Portuguese is nonexistent, let alone my Luandan slang, but even I can tell that title translates to “luxury casket.” Anyway, it’s bonkers and if you’re looking for a jolt your morning joe doesn’t deliver anymore, Séketxe oughta do it. You’ll never catch me thanking an algorithm, but I guess it’s true the maths can serve it up right every once in a while. Séketxe is the proof.

Patrick Masterson 

 Tōth — You and Me and Everything (Northern Spy)

You And Me And Everything by Tōth

The title of Alex Toth’s solo debut, Practice Magic and Seek Professional Help When Necessary, alludes to his belief in music as therapy — that there’s an alchemy in the process, yet one that can’t necessarily be depended on to pull you out of an emotional hole when that hole gets too deep. On his new album, You and Me and Everything, all of his recent personal struggles are out in the open. There’s the tale of when he was so fucked up he couldn’t play trumpet at a family funeral (“Turnaround (Cocaine Song)”); there’s leaning on songwriting as a means to process the pain of heartbreak (“Guitars are Better Than Synthesizers for Writing Through Hard Times”); and there’s his ongoing battle with anxiety (“Butterflies”). While such heavy emotional terrain could prove hard-going, Toth approaches everything with a playfulness, a lightness of touch and a gentle haze to the production. Plus, he gets a helping hand from Jenn Wasner (Wye Oak, Flock of Dimes), who lends backing vocals to standout “Daffadowndilly,” which taps into the woozy gorgeousness of prime Robert Wyatt.

Tim Clarke 

 Mara Winter — Rise, follow (Discreet Editions)

Rise, follow by Mara Winter

For people with busy performance schedules, 2020 posed a problem; how do you stay busy and creative when you can’t do what you usually do? Mara Winter, an American-born, Swiss-based flute player who specializes in Renaissance-era repertoire and instruments, used it to forge a new creative identity. In partnership with experimental composer and multi-instrumentalist Clara de Asís, she began exploring the commonalities between early, composed music and contemporary approaches and developed a platform to disseminate documents of that research into the world. Rise, follow, the inaugural release of Discreet Editions, is an hour-long piece for two Renaissance-style bass flutes played by Winter and Johanna Bartz. The two musicians played long, overlapping tones with contrast attacks, pushing on until they grew so tired from hefting those woodwinds that they just couldn’t play anymore. Effectively the performance unit is a trio, since the two musicians had to accommodate or collaborate with the reverberant acoustics of Basel’s Kartäuserkirche. The church’s echo threw sounds back at the player, turning pure tones into blurred timbres. While the instrumentation is antique, the ideas about sound combination and endurance have more to do with Morton Feldman, Phill Niblock and Aíne O’Dwyer. The result is music that is simultaneously meditative and as heavy as a bench-pressing competition.

Bill Meyer

 Wurld Series — What’s Growing (Melted Ice Cream)

What's Growing by Wurld Series

Some reviewers of What’s Growing, the second album by New Zealand’s Wurld Series, have managed to avoid making Pavement comparisons, but it’s hard to fathom their restraint. Brief opener “Harvester” feels like you’re being dropped mid-solo into a random Wowee Zowee track; the guitar tone on lead single “Nap Gate,” on the other hand, sounds like it's nicked straight from Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain. And while singer/guitarist Luke Towart doesn’t attempt to match Malkmus’ flamboyance in the vocal delivery department, their voices and wry lyrical observations bear a distinct resemblance to one another. “Caught beneath a dull blade / What a mess that would make” he sings on “Distant Business” before the song reaches its finale where guitar solos blast off from atop other guitar solos in an array of complementary textures. But besides being a ridiculously fun guitar pop record, What’s Growing is also threaded through with a British psych folk vibe replete with Mellotron flute — and the two styles blend seamlessly together thanks to Towart’s partner in crime, producer/drummer Brian Feary (Salad Boys, Dance Asthmatics). So, whether you're looking for a great summer indie rock record or you’ve ever wondered what the Fab Five from Stockton might’ve sounded like if they’d stuck to short songs and had more flutes, this one’s for you.

Chris Liberato

#dust #dusted magazine #amulets #jennifer kelly #astute palate #axis sova #bill meyer #mattie barbier #beneath #patrick masterson #black spirit #ray garraty #burial #blackdown #andrew forell #clandestine blaze #colleen #current joys #tim clarke #ducks ltd. #field music #gabby fluke-mogul #jacob felix heule #kanoko nishi-clark #fmb dz #ian m fraser #ian mathers #human failure #jonathan shaw #insub meta orchestra

[fallen-gravity]

Fightin’ Back Chapter 3

Chapter Notes:  Final stretch, boys! This is the last chapter that takes place in season one before we get into the heavier themes of season two. Boyz Crazy this time, and probably the only emotional hurt/comfort chapter of the entire fic.

So, uh, this has actually been up on AO3 for a few days already, but it completely slipped my mind to post the tumblr link until now. My bad 😂

AO3

The car is uncomfortably quiet as Stan pulls away from Lookout Point. Dipper’s leaning against the passenger side door, staring into the mirror like if he stares at Wendy long enough she’ll notice and chase after them to apologize to him for snapping at him. Stan taps at the steering wheel rhythmically, just to get some sort of noise to break the tension in the air, and Dipper sighs. 

It’s sad, really. The kid had been so excited to split Wendy and Robbie up before they left that he tried to insist on driving the golf cart up there himself. But he had no idea where Lookout Point even was, and Stan was sure someone was finally going to notice that the golf karts were stolen from the Northwest Golf Course, so he offered to drive him there in the car instead. And even then, the kid had been so excited he was bouncing in his seat the entire drive over. Stan’s sure he would’ve neglected the seatbelt altogether if he hadn’t reached over and clicked it into place for him. He was going on and on and on about code deceptions and the supernatural and how Robbie must’ve gotten the CD at some evil black market, or maybe he really did burn the CD himself and he’s secretly a vampire demon or something, and how that reminds him that he should “try mixing some salt into his spray bottle of holy water the next time he’s out demon hunting”, but now that everything’s over and done with and Wendy bitterly insisted she’d rather walk home than be with any of them right now, Dipper’s looking more like a sick puppy limping home with his tail tucked between his legs.

“Ah, don’t think too much into it, kid” Stan says, and Dipper finally breaks free from his mirror trance to spare him a defeated look in his eyes. “The breakup’s still fresh. I bet by this time tomorrow she’ll be all over you, swooning over how you saved her from that horrible monster”. 

Dipper doesn’t respond, just raises an eyebrow at him and goes right back into staring out the window. Least they’re too far away for him to still be staring at Wendy out the rear view mirror. 

“I mean it!” Stan barks a laugh. “Never got to finish that story I was telling you earlier. So after Carla ran off with that hippie, I stuck around to see how things were going with her. I was sure there was something about him that he wasn’t telling her.” He pounds at his chest with one of his fists. “And I was right! Turns out the dude’s guitar was, uh, cursed. So one day while he was sleeping I broke into his apartment and smashed the thing to pieces. After he had nothing left to show for himself, Carla came running back to me. Even drove the guy’s van into the ravine just so he couldn’t bother us again”

There’s a hint of a smile on Dipper’s face. “I don’t think I’d sink low enough to break the law, Grunkle Stan.”  He pulls himself away from the window. “Plus I thought you said she hated you for doing that"

Stan taps at his head. “You gotta work on your listening skills, Dips. I said he hated me for doing that” 

Dipper rolls his eyes at him, the most Dipper thing he’s done since getting back in the car to head home.

“Look, my point is, you gotta learn to look at things more positively. Maybe she wants nothing to do with you now, but tomorrow? You never know”.

Dipper flinches at the idea, but this time when he sighs it sounds more like he’s trying to calm his own nerves than like he’s trying not to cry. 

Stan pulls the car up to the back of the shack and unlocks the door. He steps out, and just as he’s about to head into the house he turns heel to talk to Dipper before the kid has time to run past him up to his bedroom to mope. “How’s about we sit in the living room with a couple a’ Pitt Colas and watch a movie to forget about the whole ordeal? Your choice”

Dipper mumbles something about movie night to himself, but only responds to Stan’s offer with a shrug. “I’m not in the mood. You can go in without me. I’ll come in when I’m ready”

Yeah, okay, Stan’s not buying that for a minute. He knows by now that when Dipper starts moping, the kid isn’t gonna move for hours. It’ll be two in the morning before he decides to come in, and even later if he accidentally falls asleep.

No mention that there’s child protection laws against leaving kids in locked cars.

…and that car-eating tree monster Stan’s sure he’s read about in that first Journal. 

Screw it. 

Stan gets back in the car, but Dipper doesn’t so much as blink when Stan closes the door behind him. Stan’s willing to believe that it’s because Dipper assumed he went inside, and whoa, okay, whoever put the idea in the kid’s head that he’s not worth the time of day is gonna need to start answering questions fast.

He turns the keys to start the ignition, and Dipper nearly jumps out of his skin when his door clicks locked on him. “Grunkle Stan?” he asks, once he realizes the car is pulling away again. “Where are you taking me?”

“Y’got cotton in your ears? I told you before, kid, I’m taking you bowling”

“Right now? I thought you were just saying that to make me feel better”.

“I was!” Stan flashes a grin. “But I never specified that you had a choice in the matter, now did I?”

Dipper opens his mouth to argue, but before he can get so much as a word out, Stan speeds out of the driveway so quickly that Dipper’s head whacks against the headrest of his seat.

~~~~~~~

Friday nights are usually the busiest day of the week for the bowling alley, but when you know exactly the right kind of people and have just the right amount of bribe money in your pocket, you can waltz in and get any lane you want as fast as you want.

Dipper, despite all of this, doesn’t seem as thrilled about the idea of bowling as Stan is. 

“Aw, c’mon, kid” Stan gently nudges him with his elbow. “I’m letting you go first! Everyone knows the person who gets to bowl first is the person you need to beat. It’s a privilege, if you ask me” 

“I dunno, Grunkle Stan” he fiddles with the laces of his sneakers. “I appreciate the gesture, and all, but...I’m just not feeling up for it tonight”

Stan raises an eyebrow. “Not up for beating me at something you know you can hold over me the rest of the summer?”  He scooches closer to Dipper on the bench. “Now I know something’s really wrong. This still about Wendy?”

He winces at the mention of her name like he’d just been slapped in the face, and Stan sighs.

“Look, Dips…” he pauses, trying to figure out to work around making this sound like the most awkward conversation he’s ever had with...anyone, let alone his own nephew. “Who needs women, am I right?”  He raises the can of soda he’d bought from the snack bar in a toast, but Dipper only rubs at his arm awkwardly. 

There’s gotta be something that’ll get Dipper to understand how many times Stan’s found himself in the exact same situation. 

Well, okay, Stan knows exactly what’ll get him to understand, but if he goes around telling so much as Mabel, the kid’s dead to him.

He sighs. “Kiddo, if you repeat what I’m about to tell you, you’re dead. Not just to me, I’m talkin’ dead dead. Got it?”

That seems to be enough to catch his attention. “O-of course” he repeats, like Stan’s about to tell him the secrets to unlocking the universe. It almost makes Stan wish that his story were more interesting. 

“Truth is, that story I told you about Carla ain’t exactly how it actually went”

Dipper blinks. “I…know. You told me that earlier” 

“No, I mean…” Stan pinches the bridge of his nose. “I mean, none of it was true. Obviously nobody rocketed off into the sky on a rainbow, or anything, but...Carla and I hadn’t even been dating anymore”

“What?” Dipper’s voice squeaks, and Stan chuckles.

“Well, we had been dating, y’see? But she’d just broken up with me a few days ago when I decided to stop over to the Juke Joint to see if she’d wanted to talk about changing her mind” he raises his hands in defense. “I only went in to talk. Scout’s honor, or...whatever it is your sister says.” He shakes his head. “Anyway, I get in there, and that hippy really is playing his transcendental music up on this tiny stage they had there”.

He takes a hard swig of his soda like it was a shot glass. “But Carla was up there with him, y’see? She was singing to some...weird folksy song that I’d never heard of before. Didn’t even sound like she was singing in English.” He leans back on the bench, resting his hands at the back of his head as he turns his gaze to Dipper. “That’s how I knew I lost her for good. So instead of causing a scene like some kinda....jerk”, he catches himself, “I ran out into the parking lot and hotwired her new boyfriend’s van and hightailed it outta there”.

The gaze that Dipper gives him is sympathetic, but he’s also covering his hand over his mouth like he’s trying not to giggle. 

“See? What’d I tell ya?” Stan flashes a grin. “You don’t need girls to show you a good time” he raises his drink towards the television screen above their bowling lane, still flashing with Dipper’s name. “You can always have a great time with your Grunkle Stan! No chance of eventual heartbreak with me”

“I know, I know…” Dipper stands to play his turn, and pretends the weight of the bowling ball doesn’t tip him over as he chucks it down the lane. The ball careens off to the side at the last second, barely even scraping the surface of the pins. “But I don’t think that’s entirely what’s bothering me” His second throw knocks down all but two pins, leaving him with a seven-ten split.  The screen switches to flashing Stan’s name, and Dipper turns to him as he returns to his seat.

Now we’re getting somewhere. Stan stands, pretending to appear dismissive in case it’s something Dipper doesn’t want to admit with all eyes on him. “You tellin’ me I just told you my biggest secret for nothing?”

Dipper blushes. “N-no! That’s not what I meant”. He sighs, looking down at his hands. “I mean, Wendy’s really one of the first people to really...accept me into her friend group.” This time he’s the one waving a defensive hand in the air. “Not that I’m saying I’ve never had friends before,” he squeaks, “...but they’ve felt…forced? Since Mabel and I were in a lot of the same friend circles, it just...always felt like they liked her better than me and only let me tag along because they knew I was related to her, or something”

Wow, okay, that hits way closer to home than Stan was expecting it to. He opens his mouth to comment, but it turns out that he’s not talking.

“But in comes Wendy, and y-yeah! Maybe some of it has to do with...other things” his face is turning pink, and he’s trying to hide in his vest. “But she’s so cool to me, and it doesn’t feel at all like she’s just using me to get to Mabel. Her friends like to make babysitting jokes whenever we tag along with them, but with Wendy  it feels like she really wants us to be there” He sighs, and slumps against his seat. “What if she hates me? Or never talks to me again? Or she quits working at the Mystery Shack because she doesn’t want to be around me, or-or she does keep hanging around, but it’s just like everyone at school, and she’s only there for Mabel, but she’s too cool to cause a scene and tell me to leave, and-”

“Breathe, kid” Stan’s at his side in an instant, gripping firmly onto Dipper’s arm to help him back onto his chair before he falls to the floor. “You’re gonna give yourself a panic attack.” He loosens his grip on Dipper’s arm once the color starts returning to his face. “Tell me, you really think Wendy’s the kinda person to kick you to the curb like that?”

Dipper doesn’t respond right away, but he’s taking deep breaths, which is a good sign. “No, I guess not…” he physically turns his body towards Stan to look at him, probably to prevent another dizzying spell. “But she looked so angry at me, and she grouped me together with Robbie, and she’s probably never talking to him again, I’m just….so worried I’m gonna lose the coolest friend I’ll probably ever have”.

Stan shrugs. “Trust me, bud, you do not have to worry about that. Teenagers are just like that. Y’get angry, you need to blow off steam for a few hours, but come tomorrow you’re over it like it never happened”. Stan finally goes to take his turn, lobbing the ball down the lane like it weighs little more than a penny. It slips into the gutter, but at the last second it careens back up and knocks all the pins over. He grins, pumping his arms in the air, and turns his gaze back towards Dipper. “You should’ve seen me when I was her age! I’d break a window, I’d punch a jerk in the face, and then I’d be over it”

“Grunkle Stan, you’re still like that”

“Exactly!” he boasts. “And you don’t see me holding grudges against people who don’t deserve it, do ya? You know you meant well, Dipper, and I’m sure it won’t take long for her to realize that too.”

Dipper’s playing with the edge of his vest. “I guess so”.

“There, see?” Stan gently nudges him as he sits down beside him again. “Problem solved”. He says, but backtracks a little when he remembers what Dipper had said about his anxieties around making friends. “And if you ever need any of my advice on how to talk to girls without using any creepy mind-altering CDs, I’m your guy” he flashes Dipper a thumbs up, and it makes him smile.

“Thanks, Grunkle Stan. I’ll keep that in mind”.

#gravity falls #my writing #team brawn #stan pines #dipper pines

[sasuhinasno1fan]

Meeting the older brother- Lukadrien June Day 18

*Looks at cannon that Felix is Adrien’s cousin who’s kind of a troll and you still feel scared about what he could do come next season and throws it over shoulder before picking up Felix is Adrien’s older brother AU* So yeah, that Felix episode kinda made me a bit upset but big brother AUs are still fun. From what the fandom came up with and what is actually cannon, Felix doesn’t get along with Gaberial and with another support system, Adrien feels less happy with his dad and how he’s treated. Everyone loves introducing their So to their protective older sibling. I feel like I could of had way more fun with this but I had to actually work and answer emails today so couldn’t give it my whole attention. Hope you enjoy anyway @lukadrien-june Family

Nino ran down the hall, looking in every classroom. Usually if he had to look for Luka, he’d either look for him next to his other half, looking like a cute couple (not nearly as cute as him and Alya but still) or either with his sister picking at the strings of their guitars. Luka always came to them so they never really learned where his classroom was other than his home room teacher was Mme. Mendeleiev. Finally he stuck his head into another classroom and spotted Luka talking to another classmate.

“Luka! Finally, do you know how long I’ve been looking for you?” he ran into the classroom, only having a delayed reaction to the Luka’s class having a free period. Things would have been really awkward if that wasn’t the case.

Luka looked confused to see his boyfriend’s best friend storming into his class, but like most things, he easily went along with it.

“I’ll talk to you later.” he told his classmate before turning to Nino. “Don’t you have class right now? What are you doing in here?”

“Oh, you found him!” Alya and Marinette came in, all crowding around his side of the desk.

“You all have class right now. What are you doing here?”

“This is important. Did Adrien ask you to come with him to the train station after school today?” Nino asked.

Luka felt confused but answered anyway. “Yeah, why?”

“Did he tell you why?”

Luka shrugged, “Just that he’s meeting someone. He asked me to come and I barely see him so I said yes. What is going on?”

“Well, the person coming to meet Adrien is his older brother. Felix is, well…” Marinette trailed off.

“Scary?” Nino supplied.

“Terrifying?”

“A some how toned down version of his dad but still as unapproachable?”

“Wait, I didn’t even know Adrien had a brother.” Luka cut in before more adjectives could be thrown around.

“Mostly cause his dad pretends he doesn’t exist. Adrien said they got into this huge fight and Felix left to go live with his aunt. He still cares for Adrien and is pretty over protective. When he happened to visit and we met him, he was kinda scary. He looks at you in a way that makes you think he’s gonna tell Adrien to stop hanging out with you and because Adrien loves him he will.” Marinette said.

“Wow, thanks for reassuring me. Besides, I’ve met his dad. I think I can survive an older protective brother.”

“No you can’t. Adrien kinda lost all respect for what his dad thinks like a while ago. His brother on the other hand, let’s just say if it were up to him, he’d be staying with him.”

Ok, now he was getting a little worried. Luka had a few partners that were serious enough to meet their parents. He’d met Gabriel Agreste pretty early on in their relationship. Adrien said he didn’t want to hide Luka and he’d rather them just meet now rather than later. He felt like he was under a microscope when talking to the recluse fashion designer, who honestly he could tell didn’t like him. Nathalie, who Adrien said was family too, seemed ok with him and he was so sure that was the only reason he’d been told to stay away from Adrien. Adrien would tell him how he was sure his mom would of loved him, and he hoped he was right. This Felix guy, he was slightly more concerning. For one, he never knew he existed and with what Adrien classmates and closest friends were telling him, maybe there was a good reason. He sounded like he was Adrien’s most important person.

                                                   _____________

“You’re quiet.” Luka looked over at Adrien who was looking at him with a smile. “Does it have anything to do with Marinette, Alya and Nino skipping class after lunch?”

“Am I that obvious?”

“Fe is not as bad as they think. He’s similar to our dad that he frowns a lot but he’s a big softy.” Adrien explained.

“Who I didn’t know existed.” Luka pointed out.

“Most people don’t. My dad pretty much disowned him. He works for my aunt, who my dad doesn’t love.”

“What happened, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Adrien gave a shrug. “I don’t know the whole story since neither will talk about it, but all I know is that they got into a huge fight after mom...left. I think he blames dad for it but dad said something to him that made him leave. He tried to keep us from contacting each other but Fe is nothing if not resourceful. Once we got back in contact, it was great, even better when he could come and see me. Things with Father are, complicated and it feels like half the time even though he’s farther away, Fe is the only family I have. I know I should be grateful for what my dad does, it’s just hard when he’s barely around or doesn’t give me any attention.”

Luka knew his own life was unconventional. He lived in a boat house, under a roof with barely any rules and a mom who worked enough odd jobs to keep them happy, but even then his house still felt full of love. He could see Adrien’s house as a golden cage at times. He was sure Adrien’s father loved him, but his overprotectiveness was suffocating. It wasn’t surprising Adrien liked going to school, if only to get away for a few hours.

“I want to introduce you to Felix because he’s met all the important people in my life. And you’re next.” Adrien said, lacing his fingers through Luka’s.

“Well I’m honoured and I hope I make a good impression.” he hoped he did. This person was Adrien’s closest family and he mattered.

They pulled in front of the station and waiting there was Adrien’s brother, if how he threw himself out of the car was anything to go by. From the looks of it, Felix was an older Adrien, with lighter, more put together hair. While he had a frown on his face, Luka could tell, even without the gentle heart song that played from them both. His eyes were soft and kind.

“Alright, let me go. I have a reputation to uphold.”

“What reputation? For being a brat when you want to be?” Adrien teased.

Felix raised an eyebrow at his brother and picked up a bag sitting on his suitcase, waving it in front of Adrien.

“Want to retract that statement? You’ve got doughnuts on the line.”

“Are those Dum Dums?” Adrien didn’t wait for an answer as he swiped the bag out of his hand. “Felix, best brother ever, it’s so good to see you again.”

“That’s what I thought. Want to introduce me to your friend?”

“Oh, um.” Adrien looked over at Luka, who stood closer. “Fe, this is Luka. My boyfriend. Luka, this is Felix, my older brother.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Luka said, putting his hand out to shake.

“A pleasure.” Felix answered, shaking his hand in a firm grip. He had the same blank expression his father had first time he met him, but he didn’t feel the cold chill going up his spin. Felix was studying him. “Interesting hair choice.”

“I like blue.” was all he said. No scathing comment about how he dressed so he saw things going well so far.

“The food on the train was abysmal. Is KBCafe open still?” Felix asked his brother as Gorilla came over and took his bag.

“Yeah. Come on. Are you staying at home or...?”

“AirBNB. Aunty’s France home has renovations and I wouldn’t want to bother anyone. You planning on telling me how the two of you met?”

they all climbed in the car, Adrien in the middle and hand laced through Luka’s again.

“Well Luka and I met during a music festival, the one with the different stages. His sister is in my class and he and a few other classmates have a band that was going to perform at the festival.”

“That was with that Hardrock character, correct?”

“My mom. She wasn’t a fan of the tickets she was getting cause of how loud we were.” Luka explained.

“It’s a music festival. Surely it couldn’t be that bad.”

“It was enough to cause slight damage to a few cars.” Luka admitted, worried how that would go down.

“Surely Jagged Stone has done worse.” Felix said, seeming disbelieving that it was as bad as Luka explained it to be.

“Maybe. Who knows with him? Anyway, when I came over, I tripped over a wire and he invited me to come play with them. I became their honorary member whenever I can come over during rehearsal. His house boat has kinda become a place we all hang out at after school so we saw a lot of each other when I could get away. We hung out with just the two of us one time and it kinda grew from there.” Adrien finished explaining.

“So you’ve met my father?”

“I have.”

“And you still stuck around?”

“Well, he’s worth it.” Luka said, smiling down at Adrien, who got red.

“Sap.”

when they arrived at the cafe, Felix cut between the couple and handed Adrien his card. “You order and your boyfriend and I will grab us seats.

He gave his older brother a look. “Be nice. I expect him in one piece and still there when I come out.” he pressed a kiss to Luka’s cheek, whispering good luck. That made him slightly worried.

The guitarist followed the older Agreste over to a free table closest to the walls of the cafe and took a seat.

“Don’t want to sit next to the wall?” Felix asked, noticing he left the seat next to him open.

“Adrien always takes the seat near the wall.”

Felix let out a hum, staring Luka down. “My brother has told me about you. Never your name, but just that he has this rocker boyfriend who was amazing. Let me ask you something, what do your parents do?”

“My mom does a lot of jobs but her most permanent is teaching at a sailing school and waterfront tours.”

“So, if our family did something similar, would you still like Adrien?”

“If your asking if I’m with Adrien because he’s rich, then no. Adrien’s not his family name, he’s just a guy who loves the piano and has a huge heart. That’s why I like him.”

Felix stared some more before smirking at him. “You’ll do I suppose. Don’t think I need to tell you what I can do to you if you upset my brother.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I’d be more scared of you then your dad.”

“Flattery won’t get you everywhere, but it’s a start.”

it was a start. He could tell Felix would be weary of him until he saw different but for right now, he had the approval of Adrien’s closest family member.

#lukadrien june 2020 #felix is adrien's older brother #established lukadrien

[popculturebuffet]

The Loud House Reviews: L is For Love

Happy Pride Month Everyone! I have to admit I didn’t realize pride month was in June. Luckily that just meant two things: 1) This was a plesant suprise for once in an escalatingly terrible year when I found out early yesterday morning when most of this review was written. And 2) I already, thanks to thinking about them due to the she ra finale and watching more loud house again now i’m back on cable, planning to do the three Saluna episodes as at trilogy after getting blood moon ball out of the way. 

Today’s ep takes place in late season 2. As mentioned in the “Brave the Last Dance Review’ the series had some growing pains before it got to it’s current shape: the series largely focused on lincoln at first, but as season 2 went on the show slowly eased off him. While he still gets plenty of episodes focusing on him, and still gets the ocasional weird zach morris talk to the camera moment when the episode calls for it, the show wisely decided to make itself into an ensemble piece. INstead of being about the one boy navigating a big house it became about 11 children and their parents navigating being a big family and the perils of adolsence and what not.  As such today’s ep , while focusing on the kids as a whole, evnetually zeros in on my faviorite Loud child, Luna. Luna, as you probably know but what the hell, is an aspiring rock star, most of the time fairly chill and using the word dude a lot but not afraid to get loud, pun intended, or throw up the devil horns at a moments notice. She’s also a loving big sis, cares about her siblings, and is in short a wonderful character that season 1.. really didn’t give much focus. Season 2 rectified that to my delight, giving her a focus episode early on, Roadie to Nowhere, which revealed that she also has some confidence issues that are brought to the forefront here and go on to be a vital part of her character. I also admitely was delighted to see her voice actress, Nika Futterman, in a major role again, and she’s delightful in the role and even does luna’s singing. And this ep while being an “all hands on deck’ episode about all of the siblings, does have a major focus on luna as it goes, and thus I jumped on it immidetly.. that and you know, the fact it canocially made her bisexual, making a headcanon I had about her canon and being something they actually hinted at back in season 1. But we’ll get more into that later. For now, L is for love, lunacy and luna after the cut!

We open with Lincoln getting the mail and then gasping in shock at one letter, before calling an emergency sibling meeting. The sibling meetings are something that had been set up before with Lori,a s the oldest, leading them, and a thing I like: it makes sense with this many kids to have some sort of internal way to solve problems with them or vote on things as a group when needed. Simple, makes sense and i’m glad it’s stuck around. After dealing with the previous meetings minutes, Lincoln reveals what rattled him a bit: A mysterious love letter adressed to “L.Loud”. And it’s a nice way to use the series cute naming gimmick as a plot point: ONE of the siblings has a secret admirer,a nd while Lori, being lori, assumes it’s her boyfriend bobby, sh’es quickly shot down. And that.. makes sense. Bobby is a romantic, and a great character who I love dearly and will watch the spinoff soley because he’s in it.. but it’s been shown before this ep that bobbi’s a big romantic gesture guy. The boy put himself in a giant present and nearly suffocated to death to surprise his girlfriend for Christmas and went above and beyond for their anniversary. The guy’s a peach.. but he’s also not subtle. He’s also, while not lacking in cleverness as his later career as a bodegaman shows, not very bright so if this was him, his name would probably be crossed out somewhere on it.  But each of the louds have their own crushes... which is a problem with the ep. Now to the shows credit, besides the obvious of having Sam come back, two of these characters DO come back later: Chaz, Leni’s crush, ends up mentioned in season 3, and Luann’s crush Benny ends up the focus of a spotlight episode for her in late season 3, voiced by another one of my boys (and girls) stable of voice actors Sean Gambone later on. However even with that in mind this disconnect is the episodes biggest issue: outside of sam, since we see Luna visably struggle in a bit and we’ll get into that then, we have no real investment in seeing the louds get together with most of those people other than because the episode tells us to.  It didn’t really help that Lincoln and Lucy HAD love intrests in previous episodes. And sure Ronnie Anne had moved at this point, but Lincoln had a previous crush before her Cristina to use, and we had an entire episdoe about Lucy having a crush on rocky. And somehow Rocky still hasn’t come back, but his dumbass brother is a recurring character, which if nothing else is my proof that god hates me specfically. Also yeah.. while the crushes all have names I’m purposfully not looking them up as most of them are nondiscrept at best, and the only notable one is LIsa’s crush who looks like a tiny Doctor Octopus..so apparently Otto cloned himself and gave his son black hair? I mean that’s what i’m going with it sounds like the kind of contingincey he’d do and he did die for a while. Twice. Oh and the fact Lily is crushing on a teddy bear which is just really cute.  That being said, the episode DOES get something big right: Doing this kind of stock plot right. I mean “everyone thinks a romantic letter/card/card and flowers’ is for them is a stock sitcom plot and an annoying one at that half the time as the person who sent them comes off as super dumb, or the card has to be smudged or it has to be a nickname or something something, etc etc. Here... while they all think it’s for them, it makes perfect sense for once: They ALL have the same initials, so not knowing which ones which, aside from not Bobby because of reasons I mentoined already and Bear because AS FAR AS WE KNOW he’s not alive... I mean they do live in a house with a 4 year old who tampers with the natural order as part of her to do list every day, so it’s really a matter of when not IF with that.  It also avoids: “Everyone fights and gets petty over it” .. which itself the series has botched at times for other plots, so instead while they all want it to be them and breifly get agitated over it, they instead all work together using the same tactics to try and suss it out. It’s a nice change of pace and part of why this episode works despite the repettition.. more on that later.  Anyways of all of them it’s Lucy who offers the easiest way to narrow it down, knowing how secret admirers work because she reads a lot of vampire fiction and vampires , while inhumanly goregous are also deeply insecure which, having watched all 5 seasons of angel.. yeah that tracks good work. As such she suggests they all send a signal to gage their intrest and if their intrested, they’ll send another letter.  Shenanigans insue, my faviorite being Leni pretending to be a manquin and scaring the shit out of Chaz. Not bad jokes, but we’ll get to more about it later.  The plan actually works and the next poem has a rose and-mentions the targets brown hair, so our bachlerottes are down to Luna, Luann, Lynn and Lisa. It’s also a nice clue for the reveal later. Naturally their all stoked.. except Luna who looks visably depressed. Turns out she never GAVE her signal because she talked herself out of it, thinking Sam’s out of her league. But her siblings quickly all jump in to encourage her. It’s a nice scene. Starting with the easier part to talk about I do love the siblings comradere. Sure they fight, scheme against one another, ocasinally encourage one of their siblings to date a bully or throw him out of the house.. okay the last ones aren’t as typical or easily forgivable but still, the point is despite it all.. they love each other and when it counts, their there for each other. Hell here Luaan, Lisa and Lynn are all directly against Luna, hoping the letter we’ll be there’s.. yet they have nothing but support for her. The rest of her siblings just found out this wasn’t about them.. but the instant they realize Luna is so down on herself she thinks she’s out of the running, they change from disapointi to being her cheer section. It’s really sweet and it’s this among other moments that helps boost the episode up. I also like the special touch of Lori chiming in at the end, not to be lost in with the rest of her siblings, knowing likely that being both the oldest and the only one there having been in a relationship for a while, her words likely carry some weight. The other thing.. is Luna’s character, and how this episode cements self-doubt as a major part of her character. And i’ts a part I really like, a nice contrast from her usual confidence, and most episodes about her afte rthis would zero in on this aspect for good character growth.  So since Lucy was already right, they follow her advice for round 2: Give there crush a token of affection, and wait for at third letter. Which honestly aside from actually giving signals back, she’s not entirely wrong: most “love letter plots” have this sort of rhythm.  Speaking of rhtyum.. yeah this sequence is basically the same one as before just with a diffrent goal in mind.. however I do give the episode credit. In my previous review I spoke about my annoynce at the series love of repettion, and while this episode does suffer for it.. I inflated it in my head that it was worse here. Here the jokes land enough and it does work to the episodes benifit to repeat stuff. Plus here it ends up being plot relevant: After gifts of a pie to the face (Luann), a literal hart (Lisa) and a jock strap (Lynn), Luna has a decidedly less psychotic gift in mind: Her faviorite guitar pic, which even has a heart within a heart and is a very cute gesture... but she once again backs out and accepts not being that lucky. But I also like it because it cleverly shows that it’s not Luna herself that’s the problem: out of the 4 remaning siblings she’s the only one with a valid gift, and it make sense given both her personality and her siblings inexperince. It’s jsut she’s so scared of rejection she can’t bring herself to try.  So the family is familing in the living room when Leni comes in with the final letter from the mail man... and with the final letter admitting to a love of their sounds and all things british, yeah it’s gotta be Luna? So the secret admirer has set up a meting at bangers and mosh, a place that serves british food and is a rock venue. Luna is shocked but happy and the family carry her off.. minus Leni who being Leni wants to make sure the mailman is okay since she tried letting him down gently thinking the letter was from him.  The kids arrive, all coming with for moral support apparently.. only to find their parents. Wah wah wah! In all seriousness, this twist works. With the episode geared towards Luna, most fans probably woudln’t think about their parents or this being some wacky sitcom solution, but the episode gives decent hints: Brown hair, a love of british things , an established trait for Luna as much as Lynn senior, who spent a year abroad, ironically enough revealed in the same ep Luna hinted was bi and all the girls stalked an innocent british person because of course the head writer with a history of sexual harassment would think that was a good idea. Anyways, he also was established to have a band in “House Music”, luna’s other spotlight ep from season 1, So it’ a really good use of continuity, and if you were a diehard fan of thes how or rewatched those two eps a lot, you’d probably be able to figure it out. To their credit though I did not.  Anyways Leni gives out an amaazing line “Sam likes dad?” , Rita, after a bit of confusion at her daughter’s hilarous dumbassery, explains she sent the letter: As it turns out it’s how they met. Now granted you’d think they would’ve told the kids this before but I brush it off as the kids simply not thinking of that: It was a resonable assumption the letter was for them, and none of the letters had anything about Lynn Sr. That didn’t apply to his kids. Anyways, thinking Lynn Sr out of her league, much like her daughter’s current delimma which is a nice touch. ON the third note she asked him to meet her at the very restraunt they are now, celebrating the 20th anniversary of their first date. And to me this little story is just.. really fucking adorable, as is Rita’s love of Lynn Sr.’s pisstake british accent.  Rita, being a great mom, does try and comfort luna hoping she’s not disapointed. However while Luna was at first... her story inspiries Luna to take a risk. After all it worked for her parents, she and Sam could work. She just has to make that move and rallies her family to do the same. We also get one more fantastic gag before we get to the end montage: Lynn Sr: This calls for a celebration! Meat pies for everyone! Restraunt: Yay! Lynn Sr: Actually I just meant my family Restraunt: (grumbles) Lynn Sr: Oh come on theres 13 of us! So we end on one last montage as each loud kid gives their crush a note, some seeing it some not, and for Leni does the manquin bit again, which is adorable. Also the otto kid is apparently not named otto, but in my defense.. I don’t care. So after some genuinely cute bits, we get one last one as Luna leaves a note for sam.. and you see, as you probably know for most of the episode the show hadn’t been specific on which one Sam is, so when it turned out to be one of the girls, it’d be a twist. Of course it isn’t NOW: I called this a saluna trilogy after all and really most people hearing about the loud house probably know about her and Luna but at the time it was a smart twist. 

And I loved it. WHile i’d headcannoned her as bi, there were hints after all, it was, much like the korassmi ending of legend of korra , a plesant shock to have it be REAL. And the ending shot, of luna simling at the above from behind the lockers, is really sweet.  But I also give Nick and the Loud House credit where it’s do. While they weren’t the first children’s cartoon to have an out and out gay/bi/pan protaganist, they were one of the first to not only have a bi protagnist during the context of the show, but to have it be visable.. it was really nice. Even if I do wish they’d use the term bi i’m not greedy and the show to it’s credit, while giving moments like this florish, dosen’t go out of it’s way to pat itself o the back about it’s represenation. The characters who are queer or disabled or POC are just.. there , with enough prominence to be proper representation while not letting that be ALL they are. Now sure at the time of this writing Representation, even within the Loud House itself as it followed up on this, has taken even greater leaps: In Adult Animation we have Harley Quinn having the last act of it’s second season be dedicated to Harley’s emotiona turmoil over being in love with her engaged best friend and said best friend, for now NOT wanting more, a pairing fans had wanted to see played out since the two first met. She Ra had two LEADS angished declartions of loved save teh unvierse and be the emotional climax of the finale. And netflix has gone on to have several gay characters in it’s childrens show on top of that, all leads. But while I think all of tihs would’ve happened without L is for Love, I do still applaud it as a good step forward. Sure the show had Clyde’s  dads’ before, and they are good characters don’t get me wrong, but this was something else and as  Bi person myself.. I really welcome it.  Final Thoughts: Not much to say I haven’t, but overall a realy damn good episode with a hell of an ending that makes use of the repetttion rather than usingit because “Oh shit we have a lot of episodes to get out this season”. Of course we’ll be getting back to sam and luna soon enough with season 3′s followup racing hearts, and with me knowing it’s pride I have tons of review ideas a coming, but for now, reblog this review if you liked it, or just like it if youd ont’ feel like that, send me an ask if you have any other episodes i’d like to cover, or comission one if you wnat to make SURE I cover it, and i’ll see you next time. Later days. 

#the loud house #l is for love #pride month #saluna #sam sharp #luna loud #lincoln loud #leni loud #lisa loud #luaan loud #lucy loud #lily loud #lynn sr #rita loud #lynn loud #reviews

[tardytothepardy]

Liam broke up with Dorothy on his birthday. Real smooth dude. 

I decided to hop over to Liam’s household because I just barely remembered that his birthday was about a week before hers, and like I’ve said in other posts, I didn’t want the game to split them up from him aging up. So, he invited Dorothy over, chatted with her for a little bit, then broke up with her. Technically it was “ask to just be friends”, because I didn’t feel like having them argue or something until the actual “break up” option showed up. At any rate, she wasn’t really the most pleased about them breaking up.

One thing that I’ve noticed with the “ask to be just friends” option (which I’ve done before with Tiffany and Patchy wayyyy back), is that it seems like the game doesn’t really want the Sims to stay friends. Some kind of weird “friends with benefits” thing going on, which I find kinda dumb. I mean, I suppose it’s awkward to go from dating someone to being friends again, but like I said, I don’t want my Sims to get all angry and argue and mess up their relationship that I’ve spent a while building. (In Liam and Dorothy’s case, admittedly they did meet, become friends, and get into a relationship in a few hours but hush)

After Liam broke up with Dorothy, I had him make a birthday cake and he aged up. I sent him off to university, because I want to at least pretend that there’s some kind of progression for him. 

I accidentally put him in the same house as Cassandra Goth, because I aged her up a while ago and sent her off to university with a Fine Arts major. Apparently she didn’t do any schoolwork in the time that I had her there, because she was on probation with an F grade. Really, Cassandra? You and Alexander are shouldering the hefty weight of the Goth name on your shoulders and you’re gonna be nearly failing out of university? (Alexander’s a barista, in case you’re wondering) 

Needless to say, I ended up following Liam and Cassandra, rather than playing the Ivey household. I just wanted to make sure that Cassandra got her grades back on track, because gosh darn it there’s a reputation that comes with the Goth name. It’s a burden, but the benefits is that one day they die, and unless something heinous they did in their younger years is discovered, they’ll get to live the rest of their death peacefully thinking about how they wasted their entire life trying to live up to a generations-long name. (I suppose they could pull a Johnny Zest but I won’t consider that)

I had Cassandra complete all of her homework in one go, and write, edit and submit her term paper and presentation two days into the course. Realistically, I think that could possibly be an incredibly stupid thing to do, but in The Sims, it’s fine, right? (If it isn’t then I just screwed over Cassandra again) I won’t have her join the social groups (or whatever they’re called) because she needs to spend her time doing schoolwork. As far as I’m concerned, she’s kinda lost her privilege to have fun. That said, she did do a little bit of non-schoolwork. 

News in the Ivey household is that the one short time that I’m not there, WD Gaster aged up to an elder, and a lot of his face markings proceeded to head out. I’m not sure why, I don’t really think that’s the way that works, but whatever.

Grim ended his first term of school with an A-, which is great, but is not enough for his aspiration. So back to the books for him as well. Back to the books for everyone, actually. When all the kids came back from school, most of them had projects (Kris didn’t, I guess because he’s only recently gotten into high school?), and I decided that they’ll all do one, for the hell of it. It was mainly a time waster.  

The following morning, WD Gaster promptly got sick with that icy blue fur disease, and I had Grim take him to the vet. That resulted in Grim missing one of his classes (which wouldn’t have happened if one of the vets wasn’t literally napping on the couch instead of helping animals, whatta dumbface), which didn’t reflect greatly on him. 

That day was both Season Premiere day and Dorothy’s birthday (guess which one is more important), so later in the day I had Dorothy blow out the candles and age up. Woo! The first kid is now an adult.

I moved her out pretty quickly, only because I wanted to make room for the kid that Tiffany was going to have with Vlad. (Yeah, one last baby. Tiffany is going to have six children. Why do I do this to her and myself?)

She’s still living in Brindleton Bay, but she’s no where near where the Iveys currently are. She’s actually living on the lot next to where they used to live. (But not on the same lot because that godforsaken guitar is still there. Fuck you guitar.) Before she moved out though. I tried to have her visit Liam, because I realized that there was a bunch of stuff that she didn’t know about him, and I usually like to have Sims know as much as they can about one another. But for some reason, Liam and Cassandra were both missing from the house until 2am or something. They have a roommate who kinda does the same thing. He’s just gone for hours, seemingly days at a time, then he comes back for an hour or so, then disappears for 15 minutes, then comes back again. I legitimately have no idea what that guy is doing, but I don’t trust it at all. 

#this ridiculously long post is sponsored by me playing until 3:30 in the morning #i also built dorothy a house and it looks absolutely ridiculous #since it's the beginning of winter everything's covered in snow #so i kinda can't wait to see how dumb her house will look when it gets warmer #i think next time i play the iveys things are gonna get real tangled #because sans and pap are both real close to aging up too #i'm gonna move them out soon after #i'm gonna have to then figure out who i'm gonna play and when #but pshh i'll worry about that in november #ts4 #the sims 4 #the sims 4 screenshots #the sims 4 gameplay #the sims 4 legacy #simblr

[ohblackdiamond]

careening (bruce/paul, pg-13)

"There’s no—casting couch for a bunch of has-beens. No magic bullet. You can push and promote however you wanna, but if they don’t play it, it doesn’t fucking matter.” Struggling with Gene's indifference towards the band, Paul takes Bruce out to dinner after a recording session.

Notes: For @lillianastras who I believe requested Bruce/Paul a long, long time ago. My only wish is that it was cuter.

“careening”

by Ruriruri

we measure our gains out in luck and coincidence lanterns to turn back the night and put our defeats down to chance or experience and try once again for the light –al stewart, “a man for all seasons”

“What do you mean, you’re not coming?”

Bruce looked at Eric, who shook his head dully, but didn’t say a word. As soon as Paul’s back was turned, he ran his finger in front of his neck. Bruce nodded.

“We can’t just cancel for today. We paid for the studio space already. We—I don’t fucking care, Gene. I don’t. No. You’re not—you’re not listening to me.” An exhale. Paul had the phone cord wrapped around his fist, was pacing back and forth. “The hell does that matter? You still think you’re gonna be some big star?”

Bruce had thought things were improving between them. That long break after the last tour should’ve done them some good. He’d mentioned it to Eric a few months back, after a shoot. Eric, weirdly cynical, had just shrugged.

“Gene wants to get a finger in a bunch of pies at once.” He’d looked off somewhere, past Bruce and past the room itself, not really wistful, and not really condemning, and took a swig of water. “Paul doesn’t like taking chances. Which is kinda funny, I mean, music’s such a… such a big risk in the first place. But I guess it’s the only chance he ever took.”

“What about you?” Bruce had asked, and Eric had laughed, a little.

“Well, my chance didn’t get me there half as fast, but maybe I’m better off for it.” He’d paused, pulling something out of his hair. A rhinestone that must’ve fallen off his outfit during the photoshoot earlier. He squinted at it, then he flicked it to the floor. “I don’t want anything bigger than I have. The fame bit, the glamor bit… it’s crap, Bruce, you know it, I know it—but they—they don’t know it. And they’re not gonna ever figure it out.”

It was a hell of a thing to say while drinking a bottle of Evian. It was also a hell of thing to tell a guy who’d known both of them, in the periphery, before KISS was even a band. But Bruce knew Eric was sincere. He couldn’t help himself. That it-factor, star power, whatever, that could spin pretense into reality for two hours at a time—it wasn’t in Eric any more than it was in Bruce. And that was fine, that was fine, except that it meant they never had any leverage. It forced them both into hours spent sitting through Paul and Gene’s arguments, paid to spectate, paid to shut up and do their jobs. Like right now. Paul was in particularly bitter form this afternoon, Queens accent getting stronger with every sentence. Bruce could picture Gene on the other line, unemotional at first, all-business, gradually devolving into defensive protests as Paul kept on.

“Oh, don’t start. Don’t start. I don’t wanna hear it. Personal? No, it’s not personal, it’s just my fucking livelihood and our fucking band—why the hell would I be upset? Yeah. Yeah, why the hell not. You didn’t even write the shit you mailed in—” and Paul cut himself off. Bruce could feel his gaze on him. It made him stop—despite Eric shaking his head earlier, he’d been trying to leave the room.

Something in Paul’s gaze seemed like it faltered. Maybe some residual piece of shame. He took the phone from his ear, cupping the receiver in his palm.

“I’m almost done, Bruce. Don’t leave yet.” And then, quieter still, without raising the receiver to listen in again, he hung up. Not with the slam Bruce had heard at least five times just during their time in this studio. Just set it down almost timidly, as if it were a piece of crystal instead of plastic. As if he were giving up. It was another few tense seconds before he spoke again. “Three-fourths of the band, that’s seventy-five percent. That’s still a passing grade, right?”

Eric nodded. Bruce repeated the gesture, added a quick “yeah” that didn’t seem to bolster Paul any. Paul still managed a faint twitch of a smile.

“C’mon.”

--

It wasn’t much of a recording session. Paul messed around on the guitar a bit, going back and forth on some lyrics. Eric was too enthusiastic on the drum fills, trying to make up for the tension in the studio, still heavy as L.A. smog in the air. It seemed like it just pissed off Paul further, but for once, he kept all snippy comments to himself.

Bruce just played when he was told, the chords as easy and rote as folding clothes. He knew Paul was looking for that sound—that one melody to bring it all back. That confidence behind a sure-fire hit. Bruce didn’t know what that feeling was like, but it must have been something else, or Paul wouldn’t still be chasing it ten years later. Gold record sales and MTV video rotations didn’t matter like Billboard bullets. Proof of success wasn’t in the tape deck—just in sold-out stadiums and constant radio play.

And Bruce couldn’t kid himself, really. There was no way this album would even get a top-40 single, no matter the press or the songs or the guitar work. No amount of effort could court a burnt-out audience. The old KISS Army had long since devolved into a bunch of twenty-somethings more interested in the stock market than heavy metal. Gene understood that. Paul didn’t.

Paul cut the session about half an hour short. Eric ducked out quickly, just a fluffy mess of curls rushing out the door, and after awhile, Bruce found himself nearly alone in the studio, with just Paul standing there, watching him pack up his guitar. Bruce raised his head, expecting a goodbye and getting a question, sudden and a little edgy, instead.

“How long’ve you been in KISS now?”

He didn’t have to think about it.

“Three years.”

“Three years? Three years and I haven’t ever taken you out to dinner. Jesus. Well. We’ll fix that.” Paul got up, putting his own guitar, one of them, back in its case. “I haven’t had a bite all day. What do you like, Bruce?”

“I’m not picky.”

“Then I’ll be picky. There’s a sushi place a couple miles from here. I’ll drive us over.”

And that was it. Ten minutes later, he was in the passenger’s seat of Paul’s car. Paul fidgeted, stuck in a CD (“the damn things skip as bad as a record, I should’ve got the tape player”). For all his interview claims of not listening to other bands, Bruce knew better. He had Slippery When Wet in there, was tapping his fingers against the wheel to the beat. Always on the lookout for a hook to riff off of, or a turn of phrase to peel away. Something dirty and distinctive. Emulating the other bands wasn’t getting them any airplay, but God, were they all trying.

“They say Mick Jagger’s putting out another solo album this year.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Paul nodded, turning up the volume. He was always doing that. When Bruce had first joined KISS, Gene had pulled him to the side one day, told him, quietly, that Paul needed to stand or sit beside him during interviews and T.V. appearances. Bruce had thought that was the oddest bit of micromanaging he’d ever heard of, telling him where to stand, or where not to stand. It had taken him awhile—probably half that tour—to really figure out why. Paul’s hearing wasn’t great, and it made his nerves worse. Particularly when there was more than one interviewer, more than one voice he had to focus on. He depended on Gene’s oddly gentle conspiracy, Gene’s automatic willingness to stand next to him and repeat any question for him, to even get out there, as if Bruce or Eric couldn’t have done the same.

“If it does well enough, he might cut out.” Paul said it almost like a dare. Still on about Jagger. Bruce raised his head.

“Of the Stones? I don’t think he would.”

“No, out of the Commodores. Of course the Stones.”

Bruce flinched slightly. He felt Paul’s glance on him, brief and almost softer, heard him clear his throat.

“Sorry. You don’t think he’d leave? Why not?”

“Because he can’t. There’s the money, but… he couldn’t cut out of being one of the Stones, not even if he wanted to.”

“You’re real naïve, Bruce. It’s cute.” Paul skipped the next song on the CD, then, once he’d surveyed the deck, he pushed another button. The CD swapped out with a humming sound, and after a second, Bob Seger came rasping through the speakers. Paul went silent then, except for that slight rap of his fingers against the steering wheel.

Bruce didn’t push for more conversation. Something mild about the weather, maybe, but that was about it. Paul was an oddly adept driver; Bruce had known that beforehand, but being in the car with him cemented it. He threaded through the traffic as adroitly as the cabbie he hadn’t been in fifteen years. Pulled in to the restaurant, a restaurant that didn’t look as luxurious as Bruce had expected.

He knew, three years in, that the flush of fame was more than half a put-on, that pretense was the name of the game, but he was still surprised. Paul and Gene kept a tight fist on KISS’ image, made sure the Playboy playmates and the rented mansions were all the public got a glimpse at. Even tried to keep him and Eric from really seeing what was behind the scenes. The money situation, the tour situation, like the two of them couldn’t count the empty seats from their vantage points onstage. But the put-ons had continued anyway. When they’d had sit-down dinners as a band, depending on the area, Paul and Gene would do their best to go somewhere classy, somewhere the right people would be. Not someplace like this.

He was surprised when Paul stepped out ahead of him and opened the restaurant door for him. Less surprised at the flash of recognition from the hostess, and the hasty way she led them both to a table.

“You come here often, Paul?”

“I’m just a good tipper.”

They sat down. The waitress awkwardly tried to pull back their chairs for them. Bruce cocked his head at that, but let her. She passed out the menus, rattling off the evening’s specials as if she wasn’t used to giving them, taking furtive glances at Bruce that Paul didn’t seem to notice, handing back the menu after barely looking at it.

“I’ll have a Long Island iced tea,” he said, “and he’ll take—Bruce, what do you want?”

“Coke is fine.”

“Are you sure?” Paul paused. “I probably won’t have half of it, if you’re worried about my driving—"

“I’m sure.”

“All right. … Go ahead and start me off on the spicy yellowtail roll, I think.” Paul said it so conversationally that Bruce thought he was still talking to him and not the waitress, at first. It didn’t help that he wasn’t quite looking her in the face, just turned vaguely in her direction. Antsy. The busboy darted over, passed out their glasses of water and a small saucer of lemon slices—Paul must’ve come down here more than once or twice.

It felt odd. The whole thing felt a little off-kilter, as if the tenseness from the studio had lingered like a shot of novocaine in his system. As if there was something—something everyone else was expecting. Bruce gave the waitress a second to scribble the order down before adding his.

“I’ll have a California roll.”

“Damn, you’re really breaking the bank here,” Paul said dryly.

“Nah, just kosher.” It was the first joke he’d even tried to go for since getting in the car, but Paul seemed to appreciate it. Enough to smile.

“I won’t tell. In fact, I might have one myself.” Paul took one of the lemon slices, squeezing it into his glass of water before dropping it in, shoving it down to the bottom with his straw. “Can’t get any farther from yeshiva than Hollywood, can you?”

“There’s always San Francisco.”

“You’re pretty funny when you try, Bruce.” Paul sipped at his water. “Did you go?”

“Go where?”

“To yeshiva.”

Bruce peeled the paper off his straw, shaking his head.

“Nah. Bob did. I wasn’t that interested.”

“Me, either. Hell, I didn’t even have my bar mitzvah. How’s Bob doing these days?”

Bob wasn’t a topic Bruce expected Paul to broach on his own. He blinked, then nodded, answering after a swallow of water.

“He’s good. Still touring with Meat Loaf.”

“Good.” Paul toyed with his straw. “If… if he gets a break, tell me. I’d like to catch up.”

Bob probably didn’t want to catch up. With him, the resentment simmered deep under the surface, probing its way up at regular intervals that only Bruce ever had to deal with. Fifteen years of it. Awhile back, Bruce had gone on a tour of Mount Kilauea, over in Hawaii. The guides had let them walk nearer to the lava flows than Bruce ever thought they would, and one guy almost lost his shoe from taking a second to step on the stuff. That was how Bob was. Volatility that seemed harmless right up until it set you on fire.

“Well, he’s on that world tour now, he’s pretty busy.”

“Yeah.” The corner of Paul’s mouth quirked up faintly as the waitress returned with their drinks. He was looking at her now—he kept looking at her past when she left their table—a wry expression on his face that Bruce couldn’t quite figure out. It wasn’t interest. She wasn’t Paul’s type; not blonde and not beautiful. Just a regular girl with an irregular patron. “I know.”

“I think he’s got a month off in July,” Bruce finally offered.

“Cool. Let me know?”

“Sure.”

Not a whole lot they could talk about that Bruce could see. Bob hadn’t ghosted a track for KISS in five years or so, and with Bruce around, he wouldn’t need to. Maybe Paul was just feeling sentimental, wanting to visit somebody that had been his friend. He didn’t exactly have a surplus of those.

Bruce sipped at his Coke, but Paul was already downing his drink like it was water after a marathon. Strange to watch. Bruce had never seen Paul take more than a single glass of wine at a party. New Year’s saw him more sober than most nursing home residents. Another absence out of Gene shouldn’t have been enough to change that.

“You probably think I’m a prick,” Paul said out of nowhere, waving his hand before Bruce could respond. “It’s fine, everybody does.”

“I don’t.”

“Jesus, Bruce, we’re having dinner, not discussing your contract. You can say I’m a prick if you want to. It won’t hurt my feelings.”

“I think you’re under a lot of pressure right now.”

“Is that what Eric told you to say?”

“No, I’m just—things seem like they’re getting to you.”

“Then it’s that obvious.” Paul laughed. “It’s so obvious you’re calling me out on it.”

“Paul, I’m not calling you out—”

“You are. That’s fine.” The Long Island iced tea was already halfway gone. Bruce hadn’t had more than three swallows of his soda. Paul shifted. “Hell, it’s kind of refreshing. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“I’m not trying to—” Bruce started, but Paul continued before he could even finish the thought.

“I like it, all right, Bruce? Nobody but Gene’ll even try to tell me off anymore. And he doesn’t care enough to bother.” Paul only paused to take a long gulp of his drink. “Tell me what I should do. Tell me how to calm down.”

Bruce hesitated. His palm felt like wood against the side of his glass of Coke. He’d seen this before out of Paul. Not particularly often, and almost never toward him. That weird, calculated lashing out. It made him feel like a frog in the hands of a biology major. The amount of evisceration didn’t matter; he’d be dead no matter what.

“I don’t know. Look, man, your business is your business.”

Surprisingly, Paul went silent at that. His brow was furrowed, but he didn’t look angry or put-out. He didn’t look much of anything. The waitress came by with their sushi rolls, but Bruce only took the chopsticks in his hand and broke them apart, waiting for Paul to answer, or change the subject, watching him drain the last of his drink and order another without much of a pause.

“My business is your business, there’s the problem. Yours and Eric’s and Gene’s and—and Peter’s, isn’t that a laugh? His share of KISS hasn’t expired yet. God. I’ve been paying his rent for seven fucking years. Serve him right if the new album didn’t sell one copy.”

That was news to Bruce. He tried not to react visibly.

“You don’t mean that.”

“You sure I don’t? A quarter of zero’s still zero.”

“You want the album to do well. So do I. So does everybody involved.”

“It’s not gonna do well. Y’know what me and Gene did? We fucked ourselves over. We threw out everybody that we thought was trying to—to steer the ship out from under us. We stacked the deck so full of yes-men that we couldn’t see past our own asses.” Paul exhaled. “You… you’re never gonna tell me my lyrics are shit. You’re never gonna tell me I’m making a goddamn fool of myself out there onstage. I wish you would. I wish for one minute somebody would tell me exactly—”

“Do you really want someone to hurt you that bad?” Bruce said it softly. His throat felt like wet cardboard. Paul’s gaze—vaguely on his face, nowhere near his eyes, ever— dropped straight down to his drink, his fingers twitching before grasping his empty glass again, as if to steady himself.

“I’d beg them for it. If it’d get KISS back on top again, I-I’d let anyone do whatever they wanted.” Paul finally seemed to notice his plate of sushi. He picked one of the rolls up, slipping it into his mouth. He didn’t speak again until he’d finished swallowing. “Course, that’s not how the music industry works. There’s no—casting couch for a bunch of has-beens. No magic bullet. You can push and promote however you wanna, but if they don’t play it, it doesn’t fucking matter.”

Bruce didn’t know how to answer that. The silence spread like the cigarette smoke from a few tables over. He took in the scent, thinking of barrooms and ballrooms, thinking of KKB’s sad little shows when he was a teenager. The way the three of him would go out there for a handful of people, certain it’d work out, because it was working out for his older brother’s buddies. Because they were on tour, only Bruce didn’t know back then that tour was full of pubic lice and moldy boots, only Bruce didn’t know back then that tour nearly ended only a couple months in. He’d only scratched the surface. He hadn’t understood.

Paul’s second drink was set on the table, the drained glass disappearing like a magician’s feeblest trick. The waitress shot both of them a questioning look, one Paul ignored, taking his first swallow. Three shots worth of alcohol in a single glass of that shit. Three shots on an almost empty stomach. Bruce didn’t want to look at Paul right now. Instead, he looked over at the girl, wanting, strangely, to speak to her, to ask her what her expression was for, what she knew that he didn’t. It seemed—it seemed, strangely, like he ought to know, like everyone else knew—but she was back to the other patrons once she’d refilled Bruce’s glass.

“It isn’t even just about being on top anymore. It isn’t about the—the ego trip the way it used to be. I don’t give a damn these days if anybody recognizes me on the street or not.”

Bruce doubted that. He doubted that intensely. He’d seen Paul peering out the tour bus windows after they were in the hotel parking lots too many times. He knew he was always hoping for the old throng of autograph seekers and groupies. Gene, too. Even Eric, in scattered, abashed moments, would talk about the Australian and European tours back in ’80, the utter insanity of it (“so many girls I could’ve made it with, but I didn’t know any better—I thought they couldn’t want me, man, they had to be wanting somebody else”). Paul could still pick any girl he wanted out of the crowd, have a roadie bring her backstage. He still did it most nights. But the adulation had disappeared before Bruce ever arrived at the scene.

“If I could get a hit… if KISS could fill a couple stadiums, just a couple… then it’d be all right. I’d feel okay. God, who knows, maybe Gene would even show up to record again, you think?”

“He’ll be back anyway, Paul.”

“He won’t. He thinks we’re finished.” He was working on that second glass, almost as enthusiastically as the first. “Ace was mailing in his guitar parts just before he quit. But at least they were his. Gene’s throwing me songs he bought off the nearest wannabe writer on the street. And I sucked it up like an idiot at first because I thought he was gonna come back anytime, say he was sorry, get back to how it was. Instead he lets me handle everything, album after album. He gets credit for the successes like he even showed up. And he blows off the failures ’cause he’s got plenty of other bands he’s managing. Never mind his own.” An exhale. “He doesn’t give a damn anymore.”

“I think he does.”

Paul’s expression changed at that. The cynical cast to his features, the tight way he was holding his jaw, all that shifted, flickered, and for a bare, odd second Bruce could almost see the twenty-year-old Bob had brought over to their parents’ apartment and introduced as Gene’s friend. Then Paul shook his head and the moment disappeared.

“You don’t need to prop me up like that. It’s okay. I can’t give him what he wants, I need to cut my losses and quit trying.”

“Paul, listen, you’re not looking at this right. Gene’s not—”

“You don’t know how Gene is. I could be as understanding as Mother Theresa and he’d still be blowing me off.” Paul paused, drink midway to his lips. “I’m sorry. Am I ever gonna let you talk, Bruce? I can’t afford two therapy bills.”

Bruce shrugged.

“I don’t mind.”

“You’ve got a lot to say and I don’t ever let you say it. Not on MTV or the interviews… God, I act like we don’t all sleep in the same crappy hotels.”

“I don’t really like interviews, it’s fine.”

“Bruce, I’m trying to apologize.”

Bruce’s free hand went to the back of his neck, rubbing awkwardly, before resting back on the table.

“I know what you hired me to do. I’m not expecting anything else.”

“Maybe you deserve it.” Paul’s hand was on the table, fingers curled inches from Bruce’s own. “I like writing songs with you. I never… I didn’t write any with Ace, and Vinnie, well…” He shrugged. “It feels good. It feels real good.”

“I like it, too. It’s fun.”

“It makes me think it’s ’76. Like I’ll turn around and find Bob Ezrin snorting a mountain of coke in the office. And—and Ace and Peter, too, looking like they used to. I can fucking see Ace’s card deck. And Gene’d be right there, leaning up against the music stand—I can fool myself pretty good, when I want.”

“Look,” Bruce said, rubbing his chopsticks together with his finger and thumb, the sound soft, dry, “look, I honestly think things might be turning around.”

“They won’t turn eleven years around. I can’t fool myself that much.” Paul’s expression darkened back up, and he reached for his drink again. More than half of it was gone now. The side of his boot brushed against Bruce’s ankle for a brief moment before pulling back. “My accountant told me to stop sending my parents so much money. Like I was a kid spending all his allowance. I’ve cut so many expenses I’m down to a fucking one-bedroom apartment.”

Bruce’s gaze dropped to the untouched California roll on his plate, and the chopsticks in his hand. Paul laughed again.

“Go for it. It’s fine.”

“I wasn’t really that hungry.”

“Your check’s gonna clear with or without the sushi. Trust me.”

“Paul—”

“In fact…” Paul trailed, pulling his own plate forward, “that’s not how you eat sushi, anyway. When we went to Japan in ’77… we went out to this real authentic restaurant, supposedly. The sushi chef came out there and our guide, she’d translate everything he said… he said you don’t eat it with chopsticks, you eat it with your hands. ’Cause it was fast food, before Americans turned it into something it wasn’t.” Paul paused, picking up the second roll on his plate. “This used to be their version of a fucking hamburger, can you believe that?”

“That’s interesting,” Bruce said, and he meant it, but Paul’s expression got a little deflated.

“It’s not interesting, it’s awful. Like the hula girls in Hawaii. Every-everything turned into a commodity. You gonna eat that roll, Bruce?”

“Yeah, I’ll—”

“One bite.” Paul popped his own into his mouth to demonstrate. A few seconds of chewing, a swallow, and then he continued. “Course, you didn’t get the real stuff, so maybe it doesn’t matter, but…” He waved the waitress back over, absently. “Get him a rainbow roll, would you? Thanks.”

“Paul, c’mon—”

“If you don’t eat it, I will.” Paul said. His eyes looked a little sharper now, a little more intent. Bruce set down his chopsticks, picked up one of the small California rolls on his plate. The rice was sticky and cold against his fingers. He stuck it in his mouth, not bothering with the smear of soy sauce on the dish. The taste of surimi and cream cheese burst onto his tongue, neither excellent nor terrible, just there, competently mediocre. He reached for the next one, almost mechanically, but Paul’s hand was there already, closing over the roll before he could.

“Not real crab, I know,” he said, quietly, “but maybe it’ll taste better this way.” And then Paul had the roll in his palm, extended towards his face like an offering.

“Paul—”

“Go on, Bruce.”

Bruce reached for the roll. He meant to pick it up out of Paul’s hand, but something stopped him. Not Paul, not exactly. Paul didn’t curl up his hand or push it out further or say another word. Maybe it was pity, that bastard child of all emotions, that made Bruce just tip the sushi a little closer with his fingers as he ate it from Paul’s palm. One bite. His tongue didn’t get anywhere near Paul’s skin. But Paul seemed to relax at that. He was starting to smile again, mouth wavering like wind-tossed stalks of wheat in a field. The pads of his fingers brushed up against Bruce’s almost delicately, before he withdrew his hand.

“How was it?”

“Good. It was good.”

“Good.” Paul took another piece of his own sushi, dipping it lightly into the soy sauce. “Want to try some of mine?”

“I—no, that’s fine.”

“You don’t have to worry. Nobody here is gonna bother us.” Paul started in again, conversationally. “Are you shy, Bruce?”

“No. I’ll just finish what I’ve got.” Two pieces left. The waitress hadn’t returned with the rainbow roll yet. Bruce hesitated; for an insane moment he felt like he should add a thank you, but he cut himself off with another swallow of sushi. Across from him, Paul just shrugged and popped his own piece in his mouth, following it up by downing a little more of his drink.

“You are shy. That’s all right. I am, too.”

“Paul—”

“It’s cool.” Paul reached his hand across the table, resting it on top of Bruce’s, running his fingers up and down his wrist. His face was faintly flushed. “I mean, to be honest, it sucks, being shy in a rock band, but—it’s cool, I get it, if you’d rather in private—”

Bruce drew his hand back belatedly. Slowly, not wanting to startle Paul, whose expression barely faltered at all.

“I don’t think so.”

“Bruce—”

“You’ve had too much to make an offer like that.”

“I’d make it sober,” Paul said. Deprived of Bruce’s hand, he shifted forward. A second and Bruce felt the side of Paul’s boot against his ankle again. “You’re a good guy, I always liked you.”

“Paul, no.”

“I did. I always did. You…you’re reliable, you listen, you’re easy on the eyes—Bruce, it’s not—if you’re worried about your job, don’t be, this doesn’t need to—be anything, it’s just—”

“No.”

“Bruce, please.”

“No.” The wet cardboard feeling in his throat was back again. He could feel Paul’s eyes on him, not sharp anymore but suddenly desperate instead, his mouth tight as a steel trap. He should’ve stopped him. Shouldn’t have let him keep on and on. He’d never have gotten to this point then. He’d never peel back this much of himself, like the soft insides of a crab, weak and exposed. Bruce never should have let him do it.

He shifted his foot and stood up.

“Give me your keys. I’ll take you to the hotel.”

“I’m not—”

The waitress arrived with that second plate of sushi. This time she wasn’t looking at them at all. Something caught deep in Bruce’s throat then, something dark that he didn’t want to place or name for sure.

“Bruce, please.” Now Paul was standing, leaning one hand heavily against the table. A step, hand sliding to the edge of the table, and he was in front of Bruce, his other hand clamping around his shirt. Bruce could smell the cologne in his hair, the alcohol on his breath. “It—if you’d just stay with me—"

“Paul, let me have your keys.”

Paul pulled them out. Fumbled with his wallet. Bruce shook his head, taking the keys but nothing else, putting a couple bills from his pocket on the table before Paul could try to argue. He felt Paul press in against him, push his mouth sloppily against his neck, but that was all. No other come-ons or protests. Nothing. He shifted easily after, let Bruce walk him to the car, to the hotel, to his room, even. Bruce didn’t give the keys back until after that hotel door was unlocked and Paul was inside. He was tempted to hold onto them, even then—but Paul’s expression was faltering so badly that he didn’t want to strip any last piece of pride from him. He’d had sense enough to let Bruce drive. Surely he’d have sense enough to stay in his room.

Paul’s fingers closed around the keys for only a few seconds. Bruce watched as he dropped them on the dresser and stumbled to the bed, peeling off his boots, head bent and turned away from him.

“Go on. Would you go on, Bruce? I got it from here.”

Bruce hesitated at the door.

“Go on.”

Every reassurance he could make sounded hollow even in his brain. Even the ones from that afternoon. He couldn’t ease a burden he didn’t have the means to lift.

He turned the knob and left without a word.

--

He didn’t see Paul again until their next recording session. He’d left an apology on Bruce’s hotel answering machine, and a written one under his door, his cursive cramped and uneven, but he didn’t say a word. Bruce didn’t expect him to.

Gene was there at the studio, surprisingly, indifferent, with a copy of Variety open on his lap and a Pepsi in hand instead of his bass most of the session. Paul looked more sunken in than ever, vying for his attention, fooling around and playing riffs nearly twenty years old (“that’s how it goes, Gene, right, do you remember—‘My Uncle is a Raft,’ that’s the first song you ever—“) instead of laying down tracks.

It’s crap, Bruce. They don’t know it. They’re never gonna figure it out. That was what Eric had said, and maybe it was true, but maybe it wasn’t. And maybe he could do something, now that he’d seen past the last desperate bits of glamor Paul had left to offer.

Paul left before he did. Bruce watched him crank his car from where he stood outside the recording studio, the taillights glinting to life, and then the faint sound of the radio before he sped away. Mick Jagger blaring out “Just Another Night.”

Eric ducked out soon after, his ’79 Porsche like an artifact backing out of the parking lot. Gene’s chauffeur was already waiting, engine idling. Gene had the magazine under his arm. Bruce reached over on impulse, briefly grasping his forearm.

“Hey, Gene.”

“Bruce?” Gene looked up at him. “You need anything?”

“Could you do something for me?”

“You need a lift? You don’t have to ask—”

“I don’t need a lift.” His taxi had pulled up. He could picture the meter running, numbers spinning up like years, the inverse of the Billboard charts. “It’s not really for me, anyway. It’s for Paul.”

“What about him?”

“Be kinder to him. That’s all.”

Bruce expected Gene to protest. Give out the old lines he trotted out every interview, we’re like brothers and it’s like a marriage, tired and overplayed even five years ago. Instead, Gene hesitated.

“Bruce, you don’t understand.”

“No, but I’ve got a good idea.” The cab driver was looking at him, staring impatiently. Just a five-mile ride back to the hotel, a five-mile ride that’d take forty-five minutes, easy, this time of day. “You keep on hurting somebody and they’re never going to forget it. Whether this album’s a hit or not. Whether KISS ends up back in stadiums or back in ballrooms. That’s it. That’s all, Gene.”

He didn’t wait on an answer, just walked over to the cab. Gene clapped his shoulder on the way, and for a second, Bruce almost thought he’d say something, or follow him to the cab, something. But he just saw the brief shift of Gene’s expression the second before he shut the passenger door, the faint tightening of Gene’s mouth as he walked past the cab and to his own car, dropping the magazine to the pavement as he stepped inside. Bruce watched the car’s back wheels run it over, and then the cab’s, the pages fluttering on the pavement, nothing but vapid gloss against concrete.

#kiss the band #kiss fanfiction #paul stanley #bruce kulick #paul stanley x bruce kulick

[jennycalendar]

2019 fic roundup

december was INSANE and i spent most of january dealing with the aftermath of Terrible Parents, but i am finally doing this! in nearly-february! good grief!

tagged by @catty-words​! always a delight, cori <3

Total 2019 Word Count: 541,906 Total 2019 Hits: 29,555 Other 2019 AO3 Stats: Kudos: 3,184; Comment threads: 787; Bookmarks: 509; Subscriptions: 223.

Total 2018 Word Count: 338,835 Total 2018 Hits: 22,374 Other 2018 AO3 Stats: Kudos: 2,192; Comment threads: 453; Bookmarks: 280; Subscriptions: 69.

links and titles to 2019 works (buckle up, folks.)

[btvs] imperfections (148,374 words) y’all know about the braveryverse already but i’ll bring up some good points: jenny and giles accidentally adopt the entire scooby gang. also faith gets some actual support and is actually eventually stable enough to date buffy. good times.

[btvs] deliberate obstruction (5,492 words) the one where jenny is petty as fuck and attempts to sabotage every single one of giles’s dates after their breakup. not her best look, but it was really fun to write jenny being Not Great. she deserves to have that option.

[btvs] arch-nemeses (2,171 words) who doesn’t love some of that good old-fashioned ripper au nonsense? particularly when it’s spike and ripper being confusing nemeses who sometimes drunkenly make out (jenny thinks this is very funny).

[btvs] sick day (3,097 words) written because someone should take care of giles, damnit! probably not jenny, tho. she’s not the best at it. lucky for her giles loves her so much.

[btvs] simpatico (10,096 words) sister fic to the grieving process! set circa btvs season six! jenny is connor’s awkward aunt! giles is a repressed disaster who’s still pining but refuses to admit it! 

[btvs] honesty’s the best policy (3,830 words) that one where giles and buffy are hit with a Truth Spell that means they say exactly what they’re thinking. is that all that bad for buffy? not too much. is it a little iffy when you’re a repressed watcher man who still haven’t told your girlfriend how much you love her? uh.

[btvs comics] i router, you giles (1,111 words) GOD this was written BEFORE i knew that giles and jenny were dating in the reboot comics and isn’t that a concept? a snarky-cute first meeting! ok not really that cute bc they just yell at each other a lot! but definitely snarky!

[btvs] transitional (3,152 words) good golly this is cute and i honestly forgot that i wrote it. which makes sense, bc there is a lot of stuff on this list. set in between season one and season two, in an attempt to bridge the giles/jenny gap between “awkwardly friendly coworkers” and “oh my god i think i like you”

[btvs] across the pond (5,323 words) FUN FACT this got nominated for a headline award and i’m SO PROUD OF THAT?! epistolary fic! giles leaves for england in s6 but without his wife! his wife is very mad and writes him VERY MANY LETTERS TO YELL AT HIM! perfect for those people who sometimes think “god, i wish jenny had been in s6 to yell at giles.” 

[btvs] very really married (66,987 words) giles and jenny got drunk-married in las vegas and are keeping the marriage going so they don’t look like terrible authority figures. giles does not want buffy to know about his fake wife. giles does not want his fake wife to know about his real slayer. giles has a lot of problems and it doesn’t help that he might be catching feelings. big mess.

[btvs] bad dreams (2,267 words) GILES/JENNY/ANYA IS BEST SHIP NEXT QUESTION

[btvs comics] an open mic enthusiast (2,250 words) yet another giles/jenny comic-reboot meet-cute written before i knew they were dating!!! this time: jenny gets to see giles playing guitar. repeatedly. because she keeps going back to watch him at the open mic.

[btvs comics] blindsided (2,024 words) my first (and definitely not last) giles/anya fic! a shorter version of a plot bunny i hope to chase down in 2020 (ahaha did i say that WHOOPS)

[btvs] uncharted (16,469 words) my jenny calendar day fic! also known as “jenny calendar has a guilt complex: a novella.” no prophecy dream outs jenny to the group -- but she tells them anyway. and blames herself. and breaks up with giles while she’s trying to Fix Things. absolute mess. (thank god there’s a happy ending, right?)

[btvs] on the mending of hearts (9,236 words) that giles/anya fic where giles shows up at anya’s failed wedding and sweeps her off her feet and they have sex in his hotel room! except uhhh there’s a lot more drama and crying and anya really just needs some cuddles, tbh.

[btvs] extracurricular activities (1,003 words) straight up this one BARELY counts as a 2019 fic. i wrote it back in 2016 and forgot about it and found it on my hard drive and wrote an ending to it. it’s tiny, but it’s cute! lots of early-relationship calendiles fluff, as is My Brand.

[btvs] cookie dough and boy talk (a remix) (3,976 words) dawn, but in the ripper au! she’s a precocious little bab and ripper babysits her and gets semi-adopted by joyce. it’s a thing.

[btvs] a history lesson (698 words) a brief ripper au interlude between jenny and dru. dru tries to point out that jenny and ripper are in love. jenny very unconvincingly denies it.

[btvs] faith, hope, and pancakes (3,236 words) ripper au, now with faith! and she gets to hang with college-age jenny! who is dating her idiot boyfriend ripper! the Most Fun of times.

[btvs] compromises (750 words) this....was supposed to be a three-sentence prompt but I Can’t Do That. giles and jenny discuss (read: jenny yells at giles about) giles attempting to attack angel on sight.

[btvs] valentine buzz (3,422 words) i wrote this in may lmao but i just REALLY WANTED to write fluffy braveryverse valentine’s day nonsense!!! lots of cuddles and kisses and softness abound in this fic.

[btvs] days in goodness spent (5,893 words) this fic's point was a little more abstract and a little less blunt than most of the rest of these, but i wanted to explore the concept of giles slowly going from idealizing jenny to genuinely loving her. i hope i did it justice.

[btvs] to have and to hold (7,861 words) giles and jenny get married in the braveryverse. that’s really all there is. also i posted this on my birthday (may 23rd) AND it is the 23rd fic on this list!!!! WILD!!!!!)

[btvs] saw her in the streetlight, making all the world bright (5,738 words) took me like a year and a half to write the first fic in the ripper au, lmao. in which jenny is a snarky eighteen-year-old, ripper is a snarky college dropout in a band, and neither of them are at ALL good at communicating. especially not ripper.

[btvs] perfect (1,465 words) ripper au: it’s revealed that jenny hasn’t had sex before. ripper handles this with his characteristic maturity and grace (just kidding lmao he FREAKS. but it’s bc he loves her.)

[btvs] respite (1,106 words) i wrote this after issue 5 of the reboot dropped bc i was very emotional about canon power couple giles and jenny. in retrospect, i gave giles’s emotional maturity WAY too much credit--esp. given what’s going on now--but it was still fun as heck to write.

[btvs] shouldn’t we be getting together (3,193 words) this fic’s existence is a combo of me reading a summer camp ya novel and liking the Aesthetic but not the Culture & me talking endlessly w/ @jackalopingintothevoid​ about ripper and jenny’s teenage dynamic. so many of these fics have her galaxy brain takes woven in and i KNOW she knows that. lov u, jack.

[btvs] fragmented (6,158 words) written because of that one time my brain was like “but what if jenny WAS haunting the school?” happy ending because it’s me and g/j deserve some kisses.

[btvs/hp crossover] buffy summers, muggle-born (22,070 words) i CAME BACK TO THIS in 2019 and wrote a few chapters and DROPPED IT LIKE A HOT POTATO. hopefully 2020 will bring me the courage to pick it up again!!!!!! who DOESN’T want a carelessly-mashed-together crossover where the scoobies and the golden trio are all going to hogwarts together for some reason????

[btvs] in bloom (8,452 words) this was SUPPOSED to be the end of the jenny-anya-tara trilogy. it was not. (more on that later.) this was also supposed to be a fic where giles and jenny get together. jenny and anya got together. writing things is wild sometimes.

[btvs] i still want to be your girl (35,165 words) straight up i am so proud of this fic! s7 au: jenny was chased out of town by angelus. giles does not know this. jenny has been working with angel in la, but left with faith to try and help defeat the first. giles is not the guy she remembers. (but jenny’s not exactly the lady giles remembers, either. so maybe things might work out.)

[btvs/leverage crossover] what’s in a name (4,421 words) sophie’s & jenny’s relationship to their names & identities always so totally fascinated me! this fic was my way of exploring that. (also i got to give giles and jenny a toddler. that was fun too.)

[btvs comics] live a little (6,700 words) i had so much fun coming up with a backstory for giles and jenny in the comics that i am kinda tempted to eventually try and do it again. this one was fun to write, tho.

[btvs] kind of like hydrogen peroxide (7,501 words) THIS was FUN. ripper au, but it explores both jenny’s longing for High School Normalcy AND ripper’s fucked-up relationship to magic. also senior prom is a thing.

[btvs] mending fences (6,093 words) sequel to the aforementioned epistolary fic! lots of first-person self-loathing from giles, but also a LOT of love for jenny and his kids. also the man really truly needs to stop repressing.

[btvs] her father’s daughter (1,982 words) 2020 will bring us another chapter of this fic i swear to GOD. literally there’s only one chapter up so i cannot even TALK about my plans for it but uhhh if you want giles and jenny and their three daughters pls feel free to go to that prologue and check it out.

[btvs] a thousand different ways we fell apart (4,888 words) the au fic to encompass all au fics! inspired by the comic reboot and me being like. christ. do they go through this ridiculous shit in EVERY universe? ....and then i wrote a fic where jenny was a space traveler looking through multiple universe to try and fix her marriage with giles. extra fun.

[btvs] no such roses (4,814 words) this one turned out a TINY bit rushed, but the concept of jenny bringing giles back from the dead is always something that i love exploring. i might come back and rewrite this, someday.

[btvs comics] no perfect choice (4,801 words) OOF. wrote this one after issue 8 dropped. a lot softer and more tender than what actually happened, tbh. maybe i will reread it again to make myself feel better about comic calendiles and their brutal split.

[btvs] family (3,545 words) wrote this one p early in the year and came up with an ending to it much later! ripper au: the story of how xander came to live with giles and leave his parents. angst-with-a-happy-ending abounds.

[btvs] a california january (2,206 words) jenny and giles attend a funeral together. that’s pretty much it. this is defs one of the best things i wrote this year, tho.

[btvs] how i survived my summer vacation (volume two) (25,027 words) swear to god this is gonna be the next thing i update. the braveryverse NEEDS to continue. it’s got married calendiles, for god’s sake.

[btvs] clear and impartial judgment (3,977 words) that fic i wrote when i got mad at a lack of resolution wrt helpless. like!!! giles drugged buffy!!! do we not get to talk about the psychological ramifications that would have on her???? (well. canon doesn’t. but i do.)

[btvs] sunshine ladies (10,188 words) THIS FIC WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN and i say that with incandescent love in my heart. i intended for the ‘verse to be giles/jenny, and then i intended it to be jenny/anya, and then i was like....jenny has two goddamn hands, and there’s foreshadowing here for endgame giles/jenny, and i wanna write some giles/anya. let’s fuckin go. (DEFINITELY writing another installment in 2020 about this iconic ot3 of mine.) 

[btvs] spirit-touched (4,769 words) the first smut i write and it’s calendiles ghost sex. i really think this is on brand for me, esp. considering that swath of asks in 2016ish where everyone wanted to know if ghosts could jack off. incredible.

[btvs] dear friend (28,865 words) this fic had such a rushed ending :( it’s a cute premise (you’ve got mail giles/jenny au!!!!!), but i lost interest halfway through, and as a writer i can rlly see that when i read it. another thing i might like to go back and rewrite at some point, tbh!

[btvs] familiar (2,034 words) AUGH i am SO proud of this fic. SO SO PROUD. it’s a concept i really can’t explain and the little twist at the end is something i really really like, so...just read it.

[miss fisher’s murder mysteries] unbearable (5,670 words) i need to write more mfmm in 2020 but the amount of good fic out there is deeply intimidating/delightful. this one was my little “what if it was phryne who thought jack was dead” and tbqh i had a lot of fun with it? bc pining phryne (who makes brief but extremely poignant appearances throughout the series) is an awkwardly, heart-meltingly sincere lady.

[ace attorney] man’s duty to society (544 words) wrote this as my first foray into aa fic while getting emo about miles edgeworth. would absolutely still die for that man.

[ace attorney] fancy running into you (5,887 words) lots of schmoopy narumitsu fluff! gregory edgeworth is alive! miles is trauma-free! phoenix is an artist! just!!! goodness!!!!!!!

[ace attorney] big sister (2,741 words) set in the same gregory-edgeworth-is-alive ‘verse: babey franziska comes to live with miles and his dad. she is a little impossible but miles kinda does love her.

[ace attorney] prince charming edgeworth and his incredible tux (8,042 words) this fic came from me being like “i want to write phoenix swooning over miles in a tuxedo and being like HE LOOKS LIKE A DISNEY PRINCE” and spiraled into something much longer!

[ace attorney] fate, choice, and everything in between (4,384 words) SOULMATE AU. nothing i love more than deconstructing soulmate aus. but like. in a romantic way. also phoenix and miles ARE soulmates and that is JUST facts.

Favorite Fic: I WROTE SO MUCH STUFF THO LIKE !?!??! how can one expect me to distill it to just one fic? i’ll make it my top threeL

a california january (I AM SO PROUD OF THIS FIC. it is soft and angsty and silly and devastating and tender. all the calendiles feels.)

i still want to be your girl (same mood!!! i’ve wanted to write this fic for literal years, and it’s one of those rare occasions where the picture in my head actually turned out BETTER when written out!)

sunshine ladies (this is like my giles/jenny/anya ship manifesto and it still makes me happy to think about them all co-running the magic box together and smooching a lot.)

Hardest Fic: OOF uh i went through a rocky period of writing when transitioning into college? no such roses and dear friend were hit the hardest by my insecurity & my desire to Finish Things rather than actually spend time on the craft. but i’m much more settled in now and my writing is DEFINITELY in an upward swing (as my newest fic -- as day follows night -- attests to quite nicely, imo)

Do You Plan to Take Prompts in 2020? always always yes! (i’m bad at following through with them, but am ALWAYS accepting them.)

What was the best thing about 2019? there were almost too many good things to COUNT, but i think all of them were made possible by me working extremely hard to get myself the FUCK out of my abusive parents’ house and into my first choice college!! i’m thriving, y’all.

What was the worst thing about 2019? realizing that both of my parents are fundamentally terrible people. that part kinda sucked.

Any last thoughts for 2019? i finally understand what it’s like to fall asleep feeling safe, and to notice the way the leaves change color, and to get excited about self-indulgent things like food and cuddly stuffed animals and my own fic and art. 2019 brought a lot of happiness into my life, and oh yeah also i’m in love! lots of cool stuff going on.

Goals for 2020

finish the latest braveryverse installment!

MORE ART JUST IN GENERAL. i love drawing, but there’s not a lot of free time for artsy celia when they prioritize writing so often!

write one of the many incredible longfic ideas that’s floating around in my head. it’s honestly probably only like two or three big ones, but at least DECIDE which one i’m gonna focus my energy on.

more giles/anya this year!

more giles/jenny/anya this year!

diversify! still gonna be writing about jenny forever, but like. it might be fun to write about a few new things here and there.

maybe some more ace attorney fic? maybe even some mfmm fic again? phryne and jack are never far from my heart.

not tagging anyone bc this is....january. but if you wanna do it, feel free!

#fic #fic roundup #ngl i'm like really proud of this list #stayed up.....two hours....to complete it

[harryswanderlust]

Overdue

where y/n’s the new library assistant and harry doesn’t actually show up for the books...

warnings: none

requested: nope

It wasn’t until the beginning of September that Y/n had really started to appreciate her job in the campus library. She’d been working there for only a few weeks, every night from six ‘til eight, and she enjoyed it. She enjoyed sorting through endless amounts of books and placing them back on the proper shelf. She’d end up finding new and exciting things to read from doing this, and at first, she thought that was the best part of her job, but after someone waltzed into her library during the start of September, she was given a new reason to love it so much.

She remembers it being a particularly cold night, which was surprising to no one since it was the beginning of the autumn season in upstate New York. Everyone already had their jackets pulled out by the end of August and were adjusting to the cooler temperatures. Everyone except Y/n. She’s always hated the cold, and she’s set on moving out of New York once she graduates. All she wants to do when fall and winter roll around is curl up in a pile of blankets and read until she falls asleep, but on that night a cup of hot chocolate would have to suffice.

It was a typical Thursday, and it wasn’t any quieter or less empty than any other day of the week since most kids couldn’t find the library even if they tried. She always finds it amusing when certain students come rushing in to find a book for a paper they were supposed to start writing weeks ago, but chose to wait until the last minute instead. It’s usually the same people over and over again, and thankfully it’s not a daily occurrence, but it did happen on this night as Y/n’s shift was coming to an end.

She’d lost track of time, so it was a few minutes past eight when he hurried in, but the library hours have always been clearly posted on the doors. She briefly looked up from what she was reading–Shakespeare’s Hamlet–when she heard the door swing open, and felt a gust of cool air blow in. She let out an annoyed sigh when she glanced up at the clock to check the time. She was hungry and planned on grabbing something to eat after locking up, but now she was going to have to wait because some idiot couldn’t read a sign.

She observed the stranger as he made his way inside, trying her best not to scrutinize him too hard or get caught staring. He was wearing a university hoodie that appeared to be in desperate need of a wash, and his hair is falling in disheveled ringlets in front of his face from being windblown. She cut him some slack for it because everyone on campus was only trying to stay warm, but it didn’t make her less irritated with him.

He looked to be a bit older than she was. Maybe around twenty-one? She didn't think there was any way he could be a sophomore like her or any younger than a junior really. His sleeves were half rolled up, exposing a trail of tattoos up his left arm and a wristband on his right arm with the name of his frat house. She decided to shrug it off, simply going back to reading her Shakespeare while he went about finding the books he needed. She was almost near the end of the third act when he walked up to the checkout counter, shaking his hands through his tousled curls for about the tenth time since he arrived.

It wasn’t until then that she truly got a good look at him, and she could physically feel her heart skip a beat when was met with a pair of forest green eyes, simultaneously shutting the play and nearly falling off her stool in the process. She stumbled before catching herself on the counter and flashed him a smile to try and conceal her embarrassment.

“That’s one of his longest plays isn’t it?” He asked her as he slid a few books across the counter for her to check out. Her brows drew together, his question throwing her way off guard before she registered that he was talking about Hamlet. Her eyes shifted back and forth between him and the play because she definitely wasn’t expecting him to ask her that.

“Uh, yeah. I think it is,” is all she could manage to say in response, working to grab the books he placed in front of her to scan them. She eyes him unsurely for a moment, and an awkward silence stretched between them as the scanner beeped a couple of times.

“It’s been a while since I’ve read that, but ‘to be or not to be: that is the question’, right?” He asked, quoting the play to her, and she swore her jaw practically dropped to the floor. She didn’t think he was dumb–hell, she didn’t even know the guy–but if someone had told her she’d be talking to him about Shakespeare she wouldn’t have believed them. But here he was quoting Hamlet of all plays. Her own friends didn’t even discuss Shakespeare with her, and they’ve always got their noses stuck in some piece of literature as much as she does.

“I think Hamlet should’ve let nature run its course, you know? I believe in fate, and by taking things into his own hands he only made things worse. Nothing was really resolved,” he said, reaching for his books as she handed them back to him.

She nodded, considering his words. She’s only ever heard people’s thoughts on Romeo and Juliet and everyone’s opinions are pretty much the same on that one. “I believe in fate,” he’d said. Was it fate that lead him into her library on that Thursday night? Was it fate that lead to him coming in almost every single night after that?

“I’m Harry by the way,” he added, introducing himself with a dimpled grin. Y/n’s not sure why she was finding it charming or why she’d become more endeared by him than she was several moments ago.

“And could you try to not look so surprised that I’ve read Shakespeare before?”

She frantically shook her head, stammering over her words as they quickly fell out of her mouth. “No, I’m not–I, I mean I wasn’t–I mean it’s, it’s just that–”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll let it slide since you’re cute,” he teased, shooting her a wink. Her entire face heated up at the compliment, but she didn’t know what’s worse: how little she thought of him or how he had called her out on it. “Definitely cuter than the last library assistant. What was her name? Callie or Catherine or something like that?”

“Caitlin,” she corrects, causing Y/n to remember how she heard somewhere that she was caught with pot in her room and got kicked out of school. Whether that’s true or not, Y/n doesn't know. But she hasn’t seen Caitlin around campus since so she’s definitely not around anymore. She also found a secret stash in between some books one time which makes the rumors seem more truthful than they are not.

“Caitlin, that’s right. I liked her. She’d write papers for me sometimes if I paid her enough.”

Classy, Y/n thought to herself. She mentally rolled her eyes at his confession, finding it unsurprising. She figured this guy may have known a thing or two about a famous playwright, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t another lazy student that only tries to pass so they can keep partying every weekend. She didn’t care for guys like that and assumed that everything she found attractive about him was all on the outside.

“Anyway, I didn’t catch your name,” he said.

“That's because I didn’t give it to you,” she’d shot back, watching as his grin grew wider and he licked his lips. She wasn't aware, but he was the type that liked a challenge. He loved having to work for it.

“Guess I’ll have to call you princess from now on then.”

The pet name didn’t earn any appreciation from her, nor did it make her want to keep talking with him at that point.

“If you think I’m going to write your papers for you, you’re wrong. And your books are due in two weeks,” she told him, ignoring his subtle attempts at flirting with her. He should’ve stuck to giving her his analysis on English literature.

“I’ll be back in two weeks then.”

That’s the last thing he’d said before shooting her one last wink and leaving with his books tucked under his arm. She didn’t know what exactly to think of the guy, and he even hadn’t crossed her mind until he returned to the library again. She had hoped that she wouldn’t see him again after that, but that proved difficult since he purposely showed back up two weeks later during her late night shift. As it turned out, he wanted to continue the conversation they had when they first met, but Y/n didn’t buy it. She thought he wanted to see if he could take another shot at possibly trying to get into her pants.

She was quick to judge him though, and soon found out how wrong she was about him. Sure they don’t run in the same circles, and honestly, they still don’t, but they have a lot more in common than she was willing to give them credit for at first. It took a while, but she eventually started looking forward to his infrequent visits. And after a couple of months, the infrequent visits turned into a daily routine.

At first, he’d act as though he was coming in to find a book he wanted so it didn’t seem like he was only there for the cute, alluring, library assistant, but he soon gave up trying to hide it. Not that it wasn’t at least a little obvious to Y/n. He only ever came in when she was there, and she knows this because she took it upon herself to ask the actual librarian if she’d seen him. She told Y/n she’d never seen or heard of him before. It’s possible that she could’ve simply missed him, but before Y/n started working there Harry had only seen the inside of their library a solid two times.  

So by the time the end of the fall semester rolled she had fallen in love with her job, and by mid-February, she had fallen for him. She tried to chalk her feelings up to love being in the air and all that, but she wasn’t just enamored by his riveting smile or adorable curls. She didn’t want the four walls of the campus library to be the only place she ever saw him. She wanted to be able to be with anywhere and recite her favorite soliloquies to him or listen to him play his guitar or sing to her.

That was their thing. He loved art and music, and she loved books and poetry...and maybe even him too. She hasn’t been able to find the guts to tell him, out of fear that he might not feel the same way. If he hasn’t asked her out by now then she doubts it’s going to happen. Besides, they’re good at the whole friend thing, and there’s no way she wants to ruin that.

“Did you read the book before you wrote this paper?” She asks him one day when they’re sitting at a table in the library. They’re going over a paper he had to write over Homer’s Iliad, and she’s pretty sure the only thing he’ll get credit for is putting his name on it.

“Would you believe me if I said yes?” He responds, and she shakes her head. He groans as he takes his paper back from her, running a hand over his face and through his messy locks. He tugs slightly at them with frustration, and she places a hand on his shoulder. She gives it a soft squeeze, offering a sympathetic smile.

“I should read it shouldn't I?”

She nods, murmuring a quick “yeah” before standing up. “I’ll go find it for you.”

She slips behind the bookcases, finding the book with ease since she read it herself a while back. She hears the light pattering of footsteps behind her, and she whirls around to find that Harry has followed behind her. She gasps when she almost collides with him, the book nearly falling out of her hands.

“What’s that?” She asks when she spots a cd in his hand. He shifts back and forth on his feet, his body towering over her as he looks down at her. His face flushes at her question, a pink tint blossoming over his cheeks as he twists his lips to hide a smile from her.

“I...I made you a playlist of all my favorite songs. I thought you might listen to it while you’re reading or studying or whatever,” he tells her, shrugging nonchalantly as he wipes his hand against his jeans. It makes her realize that he’s actually nervous. She’s actually making him nervous.

She smiles fondly at him, her heart swelling at the simple gift. He could’ve just thrown all the songs onto a Spotify playlist, but he went out of his way to make her a cd.

“Thank you. I love it,” she says, wanting so badly to kiss him for it. He’s standing close enough that it would be easy. All she’d have to do is lean in, and she’d be lying if she hasn’t spent some time thinking about how his lips would feel against hers. Like the beginning of a beautiful song is what she guesses.

“How can you love it? You haven’t listened to it yet, princess.”

She rolls her eyes, playfully pushing his arm.  “Because you made it for me, silly.”  

This gets him to smile, and she swears it makes her want to melt. His fingers gently trace over her wrist, his thumb rubbing over her knuckles. Her breath hitches at the contact. She didn’t see it coming, his gaze is cast downward at where they’re touching as he pauses for a moment.

“Would you wanna go to a party with me tonight?” He finally asks once he’s racked up enough courage.  

She blinks a few times. “What?”

“I mean, you totally don’t have to if you don’t want to. My frat’s throwing one tonight, but I’d understand if that’s not your scene. I just thought it might be nice to hang out somewhere besides here,” he explains, afraid that asking her out has scared her. He’s as terrified of moving too fast as she is, and doesn’t want to assume that she likes him.

If only he knew.

“Yeah, I’d love to,” she says, wrapping her own fingers around his.

He bites his lip, bringing his other hand up to push her hair behind her ear and cup her cheek. He slowly pulls her closer to him, their noses brushing against one another’s. It tickles and a giggle escapes past her lips as her eyes flutter shut, anticipating a kiss. But his lips ghost over hers, not giving her the one thing she wants.

“Great, I’ll pick you up in couple hours?” He whispers, pulling away from her and letting her go.

She nods, not trusting herself to say anything. She can hardly breathe, and when he leaves she leans back against the shelf full of books. Her head spins, unable to process what just happened.

He asked her out.

He finally asked her out.

————

Taking a nap wasn't her smartest move, and she was dreading how little time she had to get ready. She had an outfit picked out in her mind before she even left the library, but had to quickly throw on a dress and shoes in order to focus on getting the sleep out of her hair and face. She doesn't look bad, but she did envision herself looking better for a first date. Though, going to a frat party as a first date wasn’t exactly what she had in mind either.

She slides into the passenger's seat of his car when he pulls up, immediately noticing how he ditched the dirty hoodie and fixed his hair. He looks as nice as she does, and even more handsome than he ever has in their tiny, old library.

“You clean up nice,” she compliments, taking a second to buckle her seatbelt. It’s dark but she can still see him blushing as his hand reaches for the gear to back out.

“Only when I really like the girl,” he teases. “And you look beautiful too.”

She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, biting back a smile. Her fingers wind tighter around the sweater she grabbed on her way out, the butterflies in her stomach starting to flutter faster. Somehow she’s more nervous that she’s ever been. He’s just Harry. The guy who stops by the library more times to see her than he does to read a book and is now probably going to become her boyfriend.

Wait.

Boyfriend? Now she’s getting ahead of herself. He doesn’t want to be her boyfriend. Sure he had her a mixtape–which is undoubtedly pretty romantic–and he did ask her out, but he’s not going to become her boyfriend all of the sudden. She’s not even sure what to call what’s already going on between them.

“You want something to drink?” He asks when they arrive at the house, surrounded by hundreds of half-drunk college students and someone’s terrible playlist blasting through the giant speaker.

“Yeah,” she nods.

“Okay, stay here. I’ll be right back.”

“Wait!” she frantically grabs his arm, pulling him back to her. He glances at her, brows drawing together to show he’s confused and making her mentally slap herself for acting like a crazy person. “I’m...I’m not really comfortable being alone.”

She releases her death grip on his arm, praying that she didn’t make herself seem like a pathetic freak. She shifts uncomfortably where she stands, avoiding his gaze. But he smiles softly at her and grabs her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers.

“Alright, I won’t leave your side,” he tells her, squeezing her hand for assurance. She looks up at him, squeezing it back as a thank you.

He leads her to the kitchen, which causes an outburst from several of Harry’s friends. A blonde one comes from around to counter to pull him into a hug, engaging in some sort of handshake with him afterward. He pats him on the back, telling him that he was wondering when he was going to show up.

“I’m here now,” he tells him, stepping to the side and placing his hand on the small of Y/n’s back. “And this is Y/n.”

“Wow, Harry. You’ve always known how to pick them,” a lankier one says before winking at him.

“Is she your girlfriend? Or another one of your hookups you never intend on calling back?” Another one pipes up, tauntingly.

“No, we’re–”

“You’ve always been quite the ladies man haven’t you?” The blonde one nudges his shoulder.

Okay, his friends seem like nice people except they really don’t. But was what that one guy said true? Did he have a thing for hooking up with girls and never calling them? Was she really just another conquest to him? And if she was, why would he put so much effort into a quick screw?

“I think I’m going to go to the bathroom,” she lies, excusing herself from the awful situation. Harry calls out after her, but she doesn’t turn around and instead makes her way towards the stairs. She hurries up them, set on heading for the bathroom but stopping short upon finding something else.

To her left, a bedroom door is open slightly and inside she can see the same hoodie Harry was wearing earlier hanging off a chair. Now, she's in a house belonging to a bunch of frat boys that all play the same sport, so that doesn't mean the bedroom is his. But is that going to stop her anyway?

Absolutely not.

She presses her hand to the door, opening it further and stepping inside. The first thing she notices—besides the condom laying out on his dresser—is the Iliad laying out on his bed. So it’s definitely his room, and she definitely wasn’t expecting so many Fleetwood Mac and Pink Floyd posters. What also comes as a surprise is the bookshelf full of books, including classics like Hemingway.

“I see you got lost on your way to the bathroom,” Harry says, now leaning in doorway and watching her with a subtle smirk.

She ignores him, her fingers scanning over the spines of the books. “So you’ve got Wuthering Heights on your shelf, but you can’t get through the Iliad?”  

He shrugs. “Wuthering Heights was entertaining.”

She snorts, “Spoken like someone who didn’t understand the book.”

“Did you?”

She opens her mouth to speak, but can’t find any good way to answer because she, in fact, didn’t understand it. So that’s twice now that’s she’s not given him enough credit and put her foot in her mouth, right?

“You know this is like way overdue right?” She pulls a book off the shelf, holding it out for him to see as she points clearly at the return date sticker. He was supposed to return it a couple months ago, but she’s partly to blame for giving him a pass every time he forgets to bring his books back.

He walks over to her, one hand grabbing her waist and the other brushing her hair away from her face.

“What are you–”

“I think this is too,” he cuts her off, gently cupping her cheek with his hand and pulling her in for their lips to meet. The kiss is deep and slow, lighting up her body and she finds it hard to catch a breath. Her arms wind around his neck, her finger running themselves through his curls.

She moans when he pulls away, still keeping her body close to his. “I was wondering if you were ever going to do that,” she giggles, giving him another peck on the lips. “Could never really tell if you were into me.”

Harry nods, pinching her hips and causing her to giggle again. He could listen to that sound on repeat, like a sweet melody.

“Trust me, I am,” he says before pulling her in for one last kiss.

#harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles blurb #harry styles au

[sammyspreadyourwings]

A weirdly out of season prompt (I don’t think it was prompted in February either), but hey. There aren’t any rules here! It’s a little less wacky than the prompt suggests, but I like it!

Circa Modern Era

Roger loves Brian with his entire being, but he’s not exactly thrilled that they started dating March. It means they’ve been together near a year, and haven’t had a single Valentine’s Day yet. The expectations are incredibly high for something Roger doesn’t exactly care about. He isn’t heartless the think-pieces about love and romantic movies do strike a chord with him, Roger just doesn’t get the point of having to buy his significant other a chocolate diamond every year.

“Deaks?”

“Yeah?”

Roger wipes the grease from his palms, “where’d you take Ronnie for your first Valentine’s?”

“Taking Bri out?”

“Something like that, it wasn’t too decked out with the hearts, right? Just a special on wine?”

John stands up and tosses a dirty rag at him, “romance is alive and well with you Rog.”

“Oh, come on, Bri doesn’t care to be romanced. He’d be just as happy freezing his ass off staring at stars.”

“With you,” John replies.

“What?”

The bassist looks guilty but sighs, “Bri’s never had a proper Valentine’s.”

“So?”

“Right, of course he wouldn’t say anything to you. It’s not like you two have been insufferably in love this entire year.”

Roger frowns, curiosity and nerves pricking at the back of his neck, “what’s wrong with Bri?”

“You haven’t noticed? How upset he gets around this time? Come on Roger, he never has a partner for holiday season.”

He doesn’t want to admit he’s noticed the partner thing. Mostly because that’s how they got together in the first place, a spike of jealousy and too much wine. Roger knows Brian has never said anything to him about it.

“Listen, I know you hate it and the tacky hearts, but try to make this one special for Bri? He’s special to you, right?”

Roger nods mostly distracted because checked his watch and noticed Brian is going to be home in five minutes. John looks at the clock and rolls his eyes.

“Be the Casanova you claim to be for one day,” John sets the tool kit aside, “if nothing else, the sex should be fun.”

He sticks his tongue out and closes the hood of the van. The leak can’t be fixed until they get proper sealant but everything is cleaned now.

“Roger? John?”

Roger grins and pushes past John to the back yard. Brian is leaning against the door frame to their flat. He’s bundled up still, and Roger sighs happily when he sees Brian has taken his scarf again today. John gags behind him.

“Hello, Bri.”

Brian kisses him on the cheek in greeting, “hello.” “How was your day?”

“Good. Fix the van?”

“Not yet.”

John moves through him and he shoots Roger a glance in reminder.

“Uh, Bri?”

“Hm?”

Roger inhales, John said to be a Casanova, he can suck it up for a night. Especially if it makes Brian happy. God, he’s whipped and thrilled to be so.

“Did you want to make Valentine’s Day a Thing? I know it’s a full two weeks away, and a Wednesday.”

Brian lights up. He’s going to have to buy John coffee for the next month.

“You want to?”

“I want to spend it with you.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“It’s a surprise.”

It isn’t a lie, because it’ll surprise him too what he comes up with. Brian gives him an excited peck on the cheek.

“You know, I’ve never had a proper Valentine’s Day.”

Roger smiles and hopes it doesn’t show his worry, “low standards then. Excellent.”

Brian raises an eyebrow.

“Which means I get to wow you so hard that you’ll never want to have a Valentine’s date with anyone else.”

Nice save, Roger!

~

Brian has class until eleven on Valentine’s Day. Roger glances at the clock and sees that it’s a quarter past. He’s already dressed, and his hair styled. His present is hidden in the bag he’ll be talking with them. Everything is planned. John double-checked his reservations.

Roger’s hands won’t stop sweating and he debates yanking down the taking heart decorations Freddie helped him hang up. It’s too late to salvage the goo-stickers on the window. The door opens and Roger inhales sharply. He had told Brian to be ready to go when he got back.

“Roger?”

“In here!”

Brian turns the corner and his face softens at the pink and red mess Roger made of their living room. Freddie had claimed that their streamer fight had made things feel organic. Roger smiles as Brian approaches, then blushes when the guitarist pulls off a strand of confetti.

“There is nothing more romantic than you doing chores.”

“Oh, the day is still young! You’ll be in love with me forever after today.”

“Bold words.”

“Good planning.”

Brian laughs and kisses him on the lips.

“Ready?”

“Am I dressed okay?”

Roger looks Brian up and down. He’s wearing a short-sleeve button-up, dark blue with dots all over it and a pair of dark pants. The clogs aren’t exactly sexy, but Roger finds that he can let them go this one time. Besides, he’ll get to test the claim that clogs are the best walking shoe.

“Yeah.”

With that he leads Brian out of the house onto his Valentine Day extraordinaire. Roger hadn’t been able to pick out one thing, wanting Brian to experience everything, so they start with a picnic at their favorite spot at the park. As predicted, Brian stares at the ducks longingly.

“I’ve got actual birdseed,” Roger digs in the basket, “y’know to feed them because of your whole bread rant.”

Roger smiles at the kiss he earns in reward. Even if he regrets giving Brian the seed because now they’re going to be surrounded by ducks, geese, swans, and other nasty birds. Brian is happy and that’s the goal for today.

Once the seed bag is half empty and the rest of his badly made lunch (okay some of the sandwiches got soggy because he didn’t think about how long they’d have the condiments on them and the tea thermos spilled out) eaten, Roger takes Brian on a long romantic walk through a nearby flower garden. Brian takes several pictures, regular and with that stereo 3-D app thingy, Roger indulges him with smiles. Then Brian demands that they get a selfie in front of the rose bridge.

He’s pretty sure the smile hasn’t left Bri’s lips.

By the time the garden walk has ended, they exit perfectly in front of one of Brian’s favorite pastry shops. It’s packed with last-minute gift-buyers, but their table is in the back thanks to Freddie reminding him that this was going to happen. The clerk waves them in, and minutes later the pastries at tea are set in front of them.

The icing is ungodly bright red, and there are too many hearts. Brian doesn’t seem to mind, taking photos of them and then sneaking pictures when he thinks Roger doesn’t notice.

“Not done yet?”

“Are you irreversibly in love with me yet?”

Brian hums and bites down on a biscuit, “not quite.”

“Then there’s more to do.”

Another walk, this time along the river. Plotted so that Roger walks by the flower vendor he ordered from earlier. The true bouquet is on their nightstand at the flat, but it’s Brian’s final surprise of the night, but for now he hands Brian the solitary rose.

Someone in the distance mutters about him being cheap, but Brian holds it like he would a star.

Their river walk takes them by the shore, where Brian once more gets to feed the various urban birds. He gives the seeds to two little girls who have taken to Brian’s animal factoids as though he’s telling them he’s one of those cartoon princesses. Roger blinks.

Loves animals? Check. Pretty? Check. Amazing singing voice? Check. In love with a handsome prince? Check.

“Oh my god, you’re a Disney princess.”

Brian gives him a bemused smile, “uh, thanks?”

Roger smiles and grabs his hand, “more to do!”

They finish the walk by Roger’s restaurant of choice. Lowkey and not very “love” themed but they have a decent salad and couples eat half off today. Besides the folksy feeling of the building is far removed from London’s usual bustle. He knows he made the right choice when Brian reaches over and laces their hands together.

“Three more things.”

Brian laughs, “Rog, you didn’t need to do all of this. I’d been happy with anyone thing from your list.”

“You’re my songbird,” Roger looks down at their entwined hands, “I wanted to do all of this.”

He’s having fun, but it’s more because Brian looks so incredibly happy. His face must hurt from smiling so much.

Dinner is a quiet affair, both chatting aimlessly about everything. Every couple here seems to be wanting to wax poetic about their partner, and Roger doesn’t know what it says about him that when Brian tangles their legs together, he nearly melts. They leave the restaurant hand in hand, it’s cooled significantly now that the sun is fully away. Brian’s eyes are predictably drawn to the heavens.

Roger wonders what it’d be like to love something you can never touch. Brian flicks his eyes down and softens, and Roger decides he doesn’t want to love something he can’t hold. He swings their hands as they take a short walk to the spot.

It’s absolutely ridiculous what Roger is doing.

“Roger?”

The building is the studio Tim and Brian had rented out for Smile auditions all those years ago. Where this truly started. Roger tilts his head towards the door.

“It’s closed.”

“I made a call. Tim still knows the guy who owns it.”

“Wow, you broke your vow of silence to Tim for me?”

“Impressed?”

“Getting there.”

Roger tugs him and they enter the building. The owner, an older gentleman who was part of the Free Love movement in America, nods at them. Brian follows him up the steps to the room. It’s set up like it was that day. Drums in the corner and the Red Special opposite. Brian tenses when he sees her.

“I know. Freddie stayed with her until just a few minutes ago,” Roger says, “see?”

Brian reads the texts and relaxes. As if Roger would willingly risk that guitar. He likes having his balls, thank you, and more importantly he likes having Brian.

Like a well-rehearsed dance Brian picks up the Old Lady and Roger sits behind the drums. They tune their instruments in silence, the old kit can’t hold the sound he wants, but it’s close enough. Brian nods at him and Roger counts in before starting a rolling rhythm. They play with each other, urging the other to compensate for a change in the music. It’s a constant give and take.

Playing with Freddie and John makes their music better, but Roger can’t deny that thrill that runs through him when it’s just him and Brian. The Start.

Eventually they have to take a break, Roger sweaty and Brian getting that familiar tick that means his hand is about to cramp. Roger bends down to slip the box into his pocket before wandering over to his love. Brian offers his hand and Roger automatically begins to massage out the strain.

He takes a deep breath. The mood is right. Brian’s got that smile on him that means he’s completely content. Roger has done everything perfectly.

“This is when you propose, right?”

Roger wishes the noise he made was a little suaver. He’d done everything perfectly, until now.

“I swear to God if you say you were going to as well.”

“No.”

“Good.”

“Are you going to ask?”

“I have a speech dammit.”

“Are you sure drumming is for you? I think you have a career as a poet or maybe a marriage counselor.”

“Brian,” Roger whines, “let me propose!”

“Sheesh, all you had to do was ask.”

“Brian!”

The guitarist smiles indulgently, but the little exchange has eased out any tension he has in his body.

“If I had known walking in here that day would lead me on the most fantastic adventure, I don’t think I would have bitched once about the auditions being so far our and at such an inconvenient time.”

Roger inhales, “because I walked in here and was greeted by a musical poodle with a complex.”

Brian snorts.

“And somehow, I fell in love with you, Brian May. The way you love your stars, with all that endless passion and curiosity and simple want? That’s how I love you.”

“So, considering I know this is it for me,” Roger slides down onto his knee, cheering when he doesn’t drop the box, “I was wondering if I was it for you? Brian May, will you marry me?”

“Do I need to give you a speech?”

“My ego could use it.”

“If I had known that the first person we auditioned that day would be the only, I can’t say as though I would’ve come. But had I known it would be you, the man I am irrevocably in love with? I’d come at 4 in the morning.”

“A steep sacrifice.”

“I let you finish!”

Roger smiles.

“There aren’t enough words to describe how I feel for you. It’s like we’re in a binary star system, tangled permanently together by forces we can’t explain and frankly I’m okay with this mystery. So yes, I will marry you.”

He pulls off the lid of the box. A ring had been far too traditional for him, not to mention the fear of it getting lost while they’re on tour. Instead he holds out a singular silver chain. Blue and white crystals are spread sporadically all leading down into a quarter note with a diamond as the note head.

“It’s beautiful.”

“It’s yours.”

Roger stands and Brian turns so that Roger can clasp the necklace. It disappears under Brian’s shirt, the barest glimmer peeking out. They kiss. Slow and methodical (not at all what Roger used to crave in kissing). When the break apart Brian keeps their foreheads pressed together.

“What’s the third surprise?”

“Ah, yeah,” Roger laughs, “either a very long and overdue session of lovemaking or you can stare at the bouquet I bought you all night.”

#maylor #Writing Prompt Fill #drabble #listen #I don't even know okay #but this is a nice freshening up of the angst train #enjoy!!