#this one was probably actually written in november but... no way to put it on a timeline... notebook extremely unhelpful for that...

[trickstersaint]

sanctuary // december 2024

[paxtito]

birthday girl

pairings: wednesday x reader

word count: 5.2k

warnings: none really, kissing and swearing here and there.

summary: wednesday was born november 13th, 2006, it’s her birthday soon so enid- being overly invested in your relationship- convinces you to plan a birthday surprise. you steal a very expensive book and put together an addams family themed escape room.

a/n: i’ve written quite a few fics since august so i’m just doing a little clear out of my drafts. apologies in advance for any mistakes. i’m no edgar allan poe expert, don’t come for me if the price is wrong.

MASTERLIST

It’s officially November. Wednesday’s birth month. You wasn’t planning on doing anything for it out of respect to her boundaries but Enid’s constant yapping in your ear brought you to the brink of insanity.

“Jesus! Fine, Enid… We’ll plan something, okay? Stop talking my ear off.”

Enid squealed excitedly, clapping her hands together. "Oh my gosh, yes! This is going to be so much fun!"

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the small smile tugging at your lips. Enid's enthusiasm was infectious, even if her ideas were sometimes a bit... much.

"Alright, let's brainstorm," Enid said, plopping down onto your bed next to you. "What does Wednesday like? Besides death and darkness, I mean."

You chuckled. "Well, she seems to enjoy solving mysteries and puzzles. And she has a thing for creepy crawlies… Dead things…”

Enid wrinkled her nose in distaste but nodded. "Okay, so maybe not a spa day then. How about a murder mystery party? We could invite everyone and have them dress up in costume!"

You shook your head. "Wednesday doesn't really do 'parties' or 'people'. She'd probably just end up killing someone for real."

"Good point," Enid sighed. "Hmm… What about a private escape room experience? Just the two of you, working together to solve some kind of creepy puzzle. That way it's intimate but still fits her interests."

You considered it. That actually didn't sound half bad. "Yeah, I could see her getting into that. Let me look into it."

Enid beamed. "Perfect! Oh, and don't forget her favorite foods - bugs and gross stuff. You could make her a special birthday cake with... I don't know, worms or something?"

You made a face. "I have to draw the line somewhere, Enid. I may love her, but I'm not putting actual worms in a cake… I’m not touching worms.” You grimace, a shiver running down your spine at the thought.

Enid pouted but nodded in understanding. "Fair enough. I guess you could always just make it look like there are worms in it. You know, like those chocolate bugs they sell online? That might be more her speed anyway.”

You shake your head firmly. "No food. Definitely no bugs or anything gross. I'm drawing the line there."

Enid sighs. "Alright, alright. No bugs in the food. But we need to get her something, right? Like a present?"

You nod, considering Enid's suggestion. "Yeah, a present is a good idea. But what do you get for the girl who has everything? Especially when 'everything' is basically just death-related shit."

Enid taps her chin thoughtfully. "Hmm... Maybe something personalized? Like a custom-made necklace with a little vial pendant that holds a drop of your blood or something."

You cringe. "Uh, no. Definitely not going to give her bloody jewelry. That's just weird."

"Okay, okay," Enid says, holding up her hands in surrender. "How about a book then? Like a rare edition of some creepy classic literature?"

You mull it over. Wednesday does love to read. "That's not a bad idea actually. I could look for a first edition copy of one of her favorite Edgar Allan Poe stories or something.“

Enid claps her hands together. "Yes! Oh, and you could inscribe it with a little personal message inside the cover. Something like 'To my darling Wednesday, may your days be as dark as your soul.' "

“Where would I get the money though?”

Enid smiles slyly, leaning in closer. "Well, you could always ask your parents for some birthday money. Or... you could sell some of your old junk online. I bet there are a ton of weirdos out there who would pay top dollar for your crusty gym socks or used toothbrushes."

You make a disgusted face. "Ew, Enid! That's gross. I'm not selling my dirty laundry to some freaks on the internet."

"Suit yourself," Enid shrugs. "But if you change your mind, I know a guy who runs a pretty lucrative online market for this kind of thing. He's always looking for new... supplies."

—

A week later, you and Enid are hunched over your laptop, scouring online bookstores for the perfect rare edition for Wednesday.

"Ooh, look at this one!" Enid exclaims, pointing at the screen. "It's a first edition of 'The Tell-Tale Heart' published in 1843. And it comes with a handwritten note from Poe himself!"

You lean in to take a closer look. The book does look impressive, with its aged leather binding and yellowed pages. But the price tag makes your eyes bulge. "$25,000?! Are you insane?"

Enid pouts. "C'mon, it's a collector's item! And it's not every day you find something this rare. Wednesday would love it!"

You shake your head. "I can't afford that, Enid. I'm just a high school student… I’ll steal it.. Where’s the store located?”

You lean back in your chair, rubbing your temples. Stealing a rare book from a specialized antique store sounds like a terrible idea, but you're desperate to impress Wednesday. Plus, you've always been pretty good at breaking and entering.

"The store is downtown, near the old theater district," Enid says, squinting at the screen. "It's called 'The Raven's Nest' - fitting, right? They specialize in rare horror literature and occult artifacts."

You smirk. "The Raven's Nest... I like it. Okay, here's the plan: we'll case the joint tonight, figure out their security system. Then tomorrow night, I'll break in and grab the book while you keep watch outside."

Enid looks nervous. "Are you sure about this? I mean, what if you get caught? What if there's some kind of magical protection on the book?"

You roll your eyes. "There's no such thing as magic, Enid. And I won't get caught - I'm the fucking master thief of Nevermore Academy.”

—

As you and Enid walk down the darkened streets of downtown, you can't help but feel a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins. The anticipation of pulling off this heist and surprising Wednesday with the perfect gift is almost too much to bear.

"Alright, here's the plan," you whisper to Enid as you approach the old brick building that houses The Raven's Nest. "I'm gonna scope out the back entrance while you check out the front. See if you can spot any security cameras or alarm systems."

Enid nods nervously, clutching her jacket tight around herself. "Got it. But be careful, okay? I don't want you ending up in jail or worse..."

You flash her a cocky grin. "Relax, Enid. I've got this. Nothing can stop me once I set my mind to something."

With that, you split up, each of you slipping into the shadows to survey the store. The back alley is dimly lit, with only a single flickering bulb casting a weak glow. You notice a rusty fire escape leading up to a second-story window - the perfect entry point.

Enid shivers, pulling her collar up against the chill night air. She scans the front of the building, noting the ornate iron gate and the dim lights from inside. There seem to be cameras positioned above the door, but no obvious alarms.

You quietly ascend the fire escape, each step sending a faint creak echoing through the alley. At the window, you peer inside, spotting rows of shelves packed with dusty tomes and strange artifacts. In the center of the room, a glass case catches your eye - and inside it, the priceless first edition of "The Tell-Tale Heart".

You carefully pry open the window, wincing as the old hinges let out a soft groan. With a deep breath, you hoist yourself inside, landing softly on the creaky wooden floorboards. The musty smell of old books and mothballs fills your nostrils as you creep through the shadowy aisles, your heart pounding in your chest.

As you approach the glass case, you can't help but marvel at the beauty of the ancient tome. The leather cover is worn and cracked with age, but the gold lettering still glints in the dim light. You reach out, your fingers trembling slightly as they brush against the cool glass.

Just then, a sudden noise from the front of the store makes you freeze. Footsteps, slow and deliberate, growing louder with each passing second. You glance around frantically, searching for a place to hide, but the open layout of the shop offers little cover.

Panic rising in your throat, you duck behind a nearby shelf, praying that whoever it is won't spot you. The footsteps grow closer, accompanied by the jingle of keys and the click of a lock being undone.

You hold your breath, pressing your back against the wall as the footsteps draw nearer. Your heart hammers in your chest, threatening to give away your position. The shop door creaks open, and a beam of light slices through the darkness, illuminating a section of the floor just inches from where you're hiding.

"Who's there?" a gruff voice calls out. "I know someone's in here!"

You remain perfectly still, barely daring to breathe. The light from the doorway sweeps across the room, and you shrink further into the shadows, praying that your black clothes will camouflage you against the dimness.

The footsteps move closer, the owner of the shop clearly searching for the intruder. You consider making a run for it, but the thought of being caught red-handed with the stolen book makes you hesitate.

The owner's footsteps pause just outside the aisle where you're hiding. Your palms are slick with sweat as you grip the edge of the shelf, preparing to bolt if necessary. The seconds tick by agonizingly slowly, each one feeling like an eternity.

Suddenly, a hand reaches around the corner, grasping at the air mere inches from your face. You flinch instinctively, but manage to hold your ground, not daring to make a sound. The owner steps into view, his thick-rimmed glasses reflecting the dim light as he scans the area.

"I've got you now, you little thief," he growls, his breath hot and rank as it washes over you. "Come on out, hands where I can see them!"

Your mind races, desperately trying to formulate an escape plan. You could try to overpower him, but he's significantly larger than you, and the risk of him calling the police is too high. No, you need to be smart about this.

As the owner takes another step forward, you make your move. Ducking low, you sprint past him, heading straight for the back of the shop.

The owner bellows in anger, his heavy footsteps thundering after you. "Stop, thief! I'm calling the cops!"

You don't dare look back, pouring every ounce of speed into your desperate flight. Your lungs burn as you race through the cramped aisles, dodging past stacks of books and leaping over precariously balanced piles of occult trinkets.

Just as you're certain the owner is about to catch you, you spot the back door. With a burst of adrenaline, you lunge for it, your fingers scrabbling at the handle. The door swings open, revealing the darkened alley beyond.

You tumble out into the night, the cool air hitting your face like a slap. Behind you, the owner's furious shouts echo from the shop, followed by the shrill ring of a phone - no doubt calling the police.

You don't stop running until you're several blocks away, your chest heaving and your legs burning with exertion. Only then do you allow yourself a moment to catch your breath, leaning heavily against a brick wall as you gasp for air.

You turn to Enid who’d been running after you, “you’re an amazing lookout..” You mumble sarcastically.

Enid looks absolutely terrified, her eyes wide and her face pale in the moonlight. She's breathing hard, her chest heaving with each ragged gasp. "I... I tried to warn you," she stutters, her voice trembling. "I saw him coming in and I ran to find you, but... but you were already gone."

You push off the wall, your legs still shaky from the adrenaline rush. "It's okay," you say, trying to sound calmer than you feel. "We got away, that's what matters… I got the book.”

You pull the book from your jacket, holding it up in the moonlight. The leather cover glistens, and you can't help but feel a surge of pride at your successful heist.

Enid's eyes widen as she takes in the ancient tome. "Wow," she breathes, "you actually did it. You stole a first edition Poe book!"

You grin, tucking the book safely back into your jacket. "Of course I did. I told you, I'm the best thief in town."

Enid shakes her head in disbelief. "I can't believe you just broke into a store and stole something. That's so... so..."

"Cool?" you suggest, raising an eyebrow.

Enid laughs nervously. "No, not cool. Crazy! You could have gotten in serious trouble."

You wave a dismissive hand. "But I didn't. And now Wednesday is going to have the most amazing birthday present ever."

Enid bites her lip, looking uncertain. "Are you sure about this? I mean, what if she finds out you stole it? She might be mad."

“She won’t. Trust me.”

—

After weeks of planning and anticipation, the day has finally arrived. You've managed to lure Wednesday out of the house under the pretense of a "special surprise", blindfolding her before she could ask too many questions. Now, as you guide her down the street towards the escape room, your heart is pounding with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

"Where are we going?" Wednesday asks, her voice muffled by the blindfold. "This better not be some kind of lame party or something."

You can't help but chuckle at her grumpy tone. "Relax, Wednesday. It's nothing like that. Just trust me, okay? I promise you're going to love it."

Wednesday huffs but doesn't protest further, allowing you to lead her onwards. As you approach the escape room, you can feel a sense of anticipation building in your gut. You've put so much thought into this surprise, and you're determined to make it perfect.

The door to the escape room looms ahead, and you take a deep breath before pushing it open.

As you guide Wednesday inside, the blindfold is removed, revealing a dimly lit room decorated with eerie candles and macabre artwork. Wednesday blinks, her eyes adjusting to the gloom as she takes in her surroundings.

"What is this place?" she asks, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Some kind of gothic-themed restaurant?"

You grin, shaking your head. "Nope. It's an escape room. And it's all for you, Wednesday. Happy early birthday."

Wednesday's eyes widen, a flicker of surprise crossing her usually stoic features. "An escape room? Seriously? You know I hate those tourist trap things."

You place a hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I know, but this one is different. It's tailored specifically to your interests. Mysteries, puzzles, all that creepy stuff you love. Plus, it's just the two of us. No annoying strangers to deal with."

Wednesday narrows her eyes, studying you intently. "Okay, I'll bite. What's the catch? There's no way you'd actually think I'd enjoy some dumb escape room."

You can't help but smile at her skepticism. It's one of the things you love about Wednesday - her sharp mind and unwillingness to be fooled by empty gestures.

"No catch," you assure her, holding up your hands in a gesture of sincerity. "I know how much you love a good mystery, and I thought this would be a fun way to celebrate your birthday. Plus, I may have mentioned to the owners that you're a bit of an expert in this kind of thing. They're really excited to have you try it out."

Wednesday's expression softens slightly, a hint of curiosity sparking in her dark eyes. "They know about me? How?"

You shrug, trying to play it cool. "I may have dropped a few hints about your... unique skill set. But they were sworn to secrecy. This whole thing is just between us."

As you and Wednesday enter the dimly lit escape room, you can't help but feel a rush of excitement. The space is decorated with an eerie attention to detail, filled with cryptic symbols, antique furniture, and a general atmosphere of macabre intrigue.

Wednesday's eyes dart around the room, taking in every detail with a keen curiosity. "Looks like they did their research," she murmurs, running a finger along the spine of an ancient-looking book resting on a nearby table.

You nod, grinning with pride. "I told you, I made sure it was the perfect fit for you. And trust me, the best part is yet to come."

Wednesday raises an eyebrow, but before she can respond, a low, ominous voice echoes through the room. "Welcome, dear guests," it intones, "to the Addams Family Escape Room Experience."

Wednesday's head snaps up, her eyes widening with surprise. "Wait, what?"

The voice continues, "In this immersive adventure, you'll navigate the twisted world of the Addams family, solving puzzles and unraveling secrets.”

The voice pauses dramatically before continuing, "Your objective is simple: escape the room before the clock strikes midnight, or risk being trapped forever in the Addams family's morbid mansion."

A sinister laugh echoes through the speakers, sending a shiver down your spine. Wednesday, meanwhile, seems entirely unfazed, her expression one of intense focus as she begins to examine the room more closely.

"Impressive," she admits grudgingly, running her fingers along the intricate carvings on a nearby bookshelf. "They've really captured the my family’s aesthetic."

Wednesday's eyes narrow as she takes in the details of the room, her mind already working to piece together the clues. The walls are adorned with eerie paintings and strange artifacts, each one seemingly hiding a hidden meaning or secret.

"Okay, let's start with the basics," Wednesday mutters, more to herself than to you. She begins to methodically search the room, her movements precise and purposeful.

As she works, you can't help but marvel at her incredible focus and deduction skills. It's like watching a predator stalk its prey, every action calculated and deliberate.

Wednesday pulls a dusty old book from the shelf, its pages yellowed and brittle. As she flips through the pages, her eyes widen. "Found something," she says, showing you a page filled with cryptic symbols and riddles.

You lean in closer, trying to decipher the message, but it's like reading a foreign language. "What does it say?" you ask, feeling a bit lost in the face of Wednesday's brilliance.

Wednesday's lips curve into a small, enigmatic smile as she traces her finger over the cryptic symbols. "It's a riddle," she explains, her voice low and conspiratorial. "A challenge, of sorts."

She reads the words aloud, her tone almost reverent:

"Seek the key that lies within

The heart of darkness, where the shadows begin."

Wednesday closes the book, her gaze sweeping the room once more. "Darkness, shadows... I wonder if that's literal or metaphorical."

She strides over to a large, ornate mirror hanging on the far wall. As she approaches, you notice a faint glow emanating from the frame, pulsing in time with some unseen heartbeat.

Wednesday reaches out, her fingers hovering just above the surface. "Interesting," she murmurs, her breath fogging the glass. "This could be it. The 'heart' of the room."

She turns to you, her eyes glinting with a newfound intensity. "I'm going to need you to do something for me," she says, her voice steady and commanding.

"I need you to stand behind me," Wednesday instructs, her voice low and authoritative. "And when I give the signal, I want you to push me against the mirror as hard as you can."

You blink, taken aback by her request. "What? Are you sure that's safe? I don't want to break it or hurt you."

Wednesday's eyes narrow, a hint of impatience flashing across her face. "Trust me, Y/N. I've done my research. This mirror is reinforced, designed to withstand pressure. It's part of the puzzle."

Still uncertain, you nevertheless comply, moving to stand behind her. Wednesday positions herself in front of the mirror, her stance wide and her muscles tensed. She nods once, a silent signal for you to proceed.

Taking a deep breath, you place your hands on her shoulders, feeling the firmness of her muscles beneath your palms. With a grunt of effort, you push, propelling Wednesday forward into the mirror.

As Wednesday collides with the mirror, there's a blinding flash of light and a crackling sound, like electricity surging through the glass. For a moment, you're blinded, your vision swallowed by the brightness. But as the glow fades, you blink rapidly, trying to clear your eyes.

When your vision returns, Wednesday is gone. Vanished. In her place, the mirror reflects an image of a dark, shadowy hallway stretching into the distance.

For a heart-stopping moment, you're frozen in shock, your mind struggling to process what just happened. Then, as panic starts to set in, you hear a voice echoing down the hallway, distant but unmistakably Wednesday's.

"Y/N! I'm in here!"

You lean closer to the mirror, your breath fogging the glass as you peer into the shadowy depths. "Wednesday?" you call out, your voice sounding small and uncertain. "Where are you?"

There's a pause, and then Wednesday's voice returns, sounding strained and urgent. "I'm stuck, Y/N. I need you to follow me. Quickly!"

"Hurry, Y/N!" Wednesday calls out, her voice echoing strangely in the shadowy hallway beyond the mirror. "I think I found the key, but I can't get it out."

Your heart pounds as you lean closer to the mirror, your reflection staring back at you from the darkened glass. The image of the hallway wavers and shifts, as if the shadows themselves are alive and moving.

Taking a deep breath, you reach out and press your palm flat against the mirror's surface. The glass is cold and smooth beneath your fingers, but as you apply pressure, you feel it beginning to give way, like a door yielding to a firm push.

With a grunt of effort, you step forward, feeling the resistance of the mirror against your body. For a moment, it's as if you're being pressed between two planes of existence - the real world behind you, and the shadowy realm ahead. Then, with a final heave, you stumble through, tumbling into the darkness beyond.

You land on your hands and knees, the floor beneath you cold and damp. As you push yourself upright, you see Wednesday standing a few feet away.

She's standing in a shadowy corridor, her face illuminated by the faint, eerie glow emanating from the walls. Wednesday's eyes widen as she sees you emerge from the mirror, relief and urgency flashing across her features.

"Thank god you're here," she breathes, her voice trembling slightly. "I was starting to think I might be trapped in here forever."

You take a moment to orient yourself, taking in the strange, otherworldly environment surrounding you. The walls seem to pulse with an inner light, casting shifting shadows across the floor. The air is thick and heavy, carrying an unsettling scent of decay and old secrets.

"What is this place?" you whisper, your voice sounding too loud in the oppressive silence.

Wednesday shakes her head, her eyes never leaving the object clutched in her hand. "I'm not entirely sure," she admits, her tone uncharacteristically uncertain. "But I think it's part of the escape room's final challenge."

She holds out the object for you to see - a small, ornate key, its metal surface etched with strange, twisting symbols.

Wednesday holds the key up to the flickering light, examining its intricate design. "The inscription... it matches the symbols from the riddle in the book. I think this is what we've been searching for."

She glances around, her eyes scanning the shadowy corridor. "But there's no lock here. We need to find where this key belongs."

You nod, following Wednesday's gaze as she begins to move down the hallway, her steps cautious and deliberate. The walls seem to shift and sway as you pass, the air growing colder with each step.

Wednesday stops suddenly, her head tilting to the side as she listens to a distant sound. "Do you hear that?" she whispers, her voice barely audible over the oppressive silence.

You strain your ears, trying to pick up on any noise. At first, there's nothing, but then you catch it - a faint, rhythmic thumping, like a heartbeat echoing through the darkness.

"It's coming from that way," Wednesday says, pointing down a side passage branching off from the main corridor. "We need to follow it."

As you and Wednesday move deeper into the shadowy realm behind the mirror, the atmosphere grows heavier and more oppressive with each step. The thumping sound grows louder, more insistent, echoing through the dark corridors like a macabre heartbeat.

Wednesday's brow furrows in concentration, her eyes scanning the walls for any clue or hidden passage. She moves with a predatory grace, her steps silent and purposeful as she navigates the twisting labyrinth.

Suddenly, she stops, her hand shooting out to grab your arm. "Look," she hisses, her breath hot against your ear.

You follow her gaze to where the wall seems to ripple and shift, like water disturbed by an unseen hand. As you watch, a shape begins to emerge from the shadows - the outline of a door, its surface covered in the same eerie symbols that adorn the key in Wednesday's hand.

Wednesday's grip on your arm tightens, her nails digging into your skin. "This is it," she breathes, her voice trembling with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. "The final challenge."

Wednesday's hand trembles slightly as she raises the key, the metal glinting in the eerie light emanating from the walls. With a deep breath, she fits the key into the lock, the symbols aligning with a satisfying click.

As the lock disengages, the door creaks open, revealing the room they’d started in.

"That was... impressive," she says, turning to face you. "I mean, it was still an escape room, but at least it had some real challenges. Whoever designed this clearly knows their stuff."

You step forward, a mischievous grin playing at the corners of your mouth. "You're welcome," you say, pulling the carefully wrapped package from behind your back. "Happy birthday, Wednesday."

Wednesday's eyes widen as she takes in the small, rectangular shape of the gift. She reaches out tentatively, her fingers brushing against the smooth paper. "What is it?"

"Open it and see," you encourage, handing her the package.

Wednesday tears into the wrapping paper with gusto, revealing the pristine leather cover of the book underneath. Her eyes widen as she reads the title embossed in gold lettering: "The Tell-Tale Heart" by Edgar Allan Poe.

"Is this...?" she breathes, running her fingers reverently over the ancient binding. "A first edition? Y/N… How much did you spend-“ She begins, ready to scold you.

“-I stole it.”

Wednesday's eyes snap up to meet yours, her expression a mix of shock and awe. "You... you stole this for me?" Her voice is barely above a whisper, but there's an undercurrent of something else beneath the surface - something that sends a shiver down your spine.

"That's right," you confirm, stepping closer to her. "I knew how much you loved Poe, and I wanted to give you something truly special for your birthday. Something no one else could ever give you."

Wednesday's gaze drops back to the book, her fingers caressing the leather cover with a reverence that borders on obsessive. "This is... incredible," she murmurs, almost to herself. "I can't believe you'd go to such lengths for me."

You reach out, gently tilting her chin up to meet your eyes once more. "Of course I would," you say softly, your voice low and intimate. "You're worth it, Wednesday. More than worth it."

Wednesday's breath hitches as your fingers brush against her skin, her dark eyes searching yours for any sign of deception or ulterior motive. But all she sees is sincerity, and maybe something deeper - a longing that mirrors her own.

"Why?" she asks, her voice barely audible. "Why would you do this for me?"

You lean in closer, your lips nearly brushing against her ear. "Because I care about you, Wednesday," you murmur, your breath warm against her skin. "More than I've ever cared about anyone else. And I wanted to prove it to you, in a way that no one else could."

Wednesday's heart pounds in her chest, her body responding to your proximity in ways she didn't know were possible. She's always prided herself on her emotional detachment, her ability to remain unaffected by the whims and fancies of others. But with you, she feels herself crumbling, her carefully constructed walls beginning to fall away.

Wednesday's breath catches in her throat as your lips brush against her ear, your whispered confession sending a jolt of electricity through her body. For a moment, she's frozen, her mind reeling as she tries to process the intensity of the moment.

But then, slowly, she raises her hand, her fingers coming to rest gently against your chest. She can feel the steady thrum of your heartbeat beneath her palm, a reminder of the life and warmth that lies beneath your skin.

"Y/N," she whispers, her voice trembling slightly. "I... I don't know what to say."

You pull back just enough to meet her gaze, your eyes dark with desire and something deeper, more profound. "You don't have to say anything," you murmur, your hand coming up to cup her cheek. "Just let me show you."

And then, before she can react, you're leaning in, your lips capturing hers in a kiss that steals the breath from her lungs. Wednesday's eyes flutter closed, her body melting into yours as she surrenders to the sensation of your mouth moving against hers.

Wednesday's mind reels as the kiss deepens, her senses overwhelmed by the taste and feel of your lips against hers. She's kissed you before, of course - quick, furtive pecks stolen in the dark corners of school. But nothing like this. Nothing that makes her feel so alive, so utterly consumed by the other person.

Your hand moves from her cheek to the back of her neck, your fingers tangling in the silky strands of her hair. Wednesday lets out a soft moan, her body arching into yours as her hands come up to grip your shoulders. She's never felt so wanted, so desired, and it's both thrilling and terrifying all at once.

For a long moment, Wednesday is lost in the sensation of your kiss, her mind going blank as she succumbs to the heat of your touch. But then, with a sudden surge of willpower, she pulls away, her chest heaving as she struggles to catch her breath.

Wednesday's eyes snap open, her gaze locked with yours as she tries to regain her composure. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips swollen from the intensity of the kiss, and she can feel a warmth spreading through her body that has nothing to do with the heat of the moment.

—

[leupagus]

Honestly I think there needs to be more West Wing AUs that are set in a world where "The West Wing" TV show actually existed

So I was talking with etben and whetherwoman and basically incepted myself into this extremely dumb idea, because who doesn't love a good political AU (especially in the present moment tbh)

-

Samira's alarm went off at six. She’d set it the night before, giving herself an extra ninety minutes of sleep on the assumption that none of them would get to sleep before midnight watching the early returns rolling in, states lighting up in blue or red across the half-dozen TV screens set up in the Marriott Hotel and Conference Center's main ballroom. It had almost been a disappointment when the race was called by most networks at around 11:45, plastering pictures of the Vice President (now President-Elect) next to the 286 electoral votes that had cinched the race.

The victory speech had been short and sweet; Santos had written a longer one in the event they’d lost, but in her words, “All they want to know is that you’re grateful they voted for you and that you think America’s cool. Everything else can wait until tomorrow.” In light of that, pretty much everyone had gotten hammered right after the cameras were off — the campaign staff and  the President’s staff that had tagged along with them to Minneapolis. (Robby had probably gotten the drunkest out of all of them, the visible relief that after January 20th he’d never have to be president ever again more obvious than the smell of bourbon.) 

Samira wasn’t much of a drinker herself, but even she’d indulged last night. Judging by the headache blooming between her eyebrows as she squinted at her phone, over-indulged was probably a better term. Hence this hotel room, just three flights and two hallways from the ballroom that had held about 3,500 screaming Democrats the night before. It was pitch-black in here with the curtains drawn, and the brightness of her screen was almost nauseating until she turned it all the way down.

Her notifications were a complete mess, group chats and media pop-ups vying for attention alongside her mom and stepdad’s voicemails that were probably going to involve a lot of crying from her stepdad and stout assertions that she, Dr. Samira Mohan, Communications Director of the Abbot for America Campaign, had single-handedly won them the election from her mom.

She let the phone drop face-down on the mattress and burrowed her head further into the pillow. November in Minneapolis was no joke and even with the heater on, it was cozier in this bed, curled up against the warm body that was even now wrapping a half-asleep arm around her waist, murmuring— 

There was a loud knock on the door; not the tap-tap-tap of room service or even Parker’s chipper shave-and-a-haircut salute, but someone using their fist to pound at the door. “Dr. Mohan?”

Maks’s voice — the VP’s head of security, who had a fondness for Werther’s Originals and always had cat hair on his trousers. He didn’t sound very friendly at the moment, and Samira scrambled out of bed to answer the door, tripping over something invisible in the darkness and almost eating it on the doorknob before she managed to get it open.

“What is it?” she asked, breathless from the adrenaline and a sudden looming dread. “Is the Vice President—"

Maks’s expression was dubious. “That’s what we were lead to understand last night, ma’am,” he said, bafflingly. “The President would like to speak with him, however, and it seems like neither of you are answering your phones.”

“Neither of—" Samira stared at him for a long moment before she began to put things together: Maks’s presence, the thing she’d tripped over on the way to the door, the warm body in her bed.

The shirt she’s wearing with the words BEAT NAVY emblazoned on the front.

“Oh my God,” she breathed, and for the first time in five years she saw Maks almost smile.

“I told the President we’d be able to bring the VP up in ten minutes,” he said. “Think that’s enough time?”

“Oh my God,” Samira repeated, and closed the door.

“So,” she heard from the direction of the bed (the king-size bed, she’d murmured in his ear last night, and he’d chuckled and said something about how he wasn’t much for kings but maybe he’d make an exception, his hand big and just a little sweaty as she linked her fingers with his). “Uh, good morning.”

“Oh my God,” she didn’t-quite-shriek, and slapped at the wall until the overhead light went on.

Jack — Vice President of the United States John Dickinson Abbot, now President-Elect of the United States — blinked at her from where he’d sat up. “You’ve said that a few times,” he ventured, swinging his legs over the side. “Usually you don’t invoke higher powers this early in the day.”

“That’s because you’ve never seen me this early in the day,” she hissed, going over to the small dresser attached to the desk and rummaging around for her clothes. She found some panties — the Patagonia ones she usually wore, not the lace thong she’d had on last night, premeditated, Jack had teased her as he’d pulled them off — and hopped around getting them on, almost tripping over the same goddamn thing she’d tripped over before.

It was Jack’s prosthetic, because of course it was.

“I have definitely seen you before six in the morning, doc,” he said, reaching for her — no, reaching for his leg, which she’d picked up rather than allow it to remain a hazard. “I’ve seen you before six in the morning this week.”

“Okay, yes, but you’ve never seen me before six in... this context.” She flapped her hands in the space between them to express the context, namely sleeping with her boss and the future President of the United States.

“Hard to believe Santos is our chief speechwriter and not you,” he observed, but she couldn’t help noticing his blush which — thanks to the fact that she was wearing his undershirt — she could see went all the way down his chest. She had the sudden urge to climb into his lap and press her lips against it, feel how hot his skin would be.

“How did Secret Service even let you stay here?” she demanded instead, finding a pair of slacks and hunching over to put them on. “Isn’t that kind of insane?”

“Extremely insane,” he agreed somberly as he put his prosthetic on with quick moves that revealed he’d been naked under the covers. She got another quick flash from last night, making fun of his Fruit of the Looms as they’d tumbled into bed, laughing and giddy and—

“Okay, whatever,” she said, trying to scrape all memory of last night out of her brain. “You need to get dressed and get out of here.”

Jack sighed and scrubbed at his face. “I was really hoping to get more respect after I’d won the election,” he said mournfully.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Samira snarled, wrestling Jack’s stupid undershirt off and throwing it at his head, “would you prefer Mister Vice President or Mister President-Elect when I tell you to get out of my room after our one-night stand?”

He looked up at her with a wounded expression, though his eyes did take a brief detour at her breasts until she scowled at him and crossed her arms over her chest. “One-night stand as in—"

“Oh, no,” she said firmly. “We are not doing this again.”

“Was it that bad?” he asked, wincing. “I know it’s been a while—"

She resisted the urge to stomp her foot. This guy was unbelievable. She should never have voted for him. “That’s not relevant!”

“…I meant for me,” he said evenly. He put his undershirt on and Samira grabbed her bra from where it had gotten flung over the TV, fastening it just as Jack’s head reappeared. “Aw,” he added glumly.

“It wasn’t bad,” she said, because she had never been able to resist Jack Abbot’s sad expression and really that fact alone should have warned her off this campaign from the start. “It was… really good. Great, actually."

“Gotta say, wasn’t expecting you to sound so annoyed about it,” Jack commented, and Samira would’ve explained exactly why she was so annoyed except Maks started banging on the door again and Samira really wasn’t in the mood to have to explain to President Rabinovitch why his Vice President and successor was taking so long to put his pants on.

"I could have been a doctor," she muttered, going over to the door.

"You are a doctor," Jack called after her.

"I mean a real doctor, with a stethoscope and whatever else it is they have," she snapped as she hauled the door open, remembering just after she did so that she hadn't yet put an actual shirt on.

[joelsprettyprincess]

Thank You, Mr. Miller

Dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader (NSFW)

Joel lets you crash at his house following his birthday grill. You give him an incredibly wet, sloppy, desperate....gift.

Tags: facefucking, rough oral, choking, spit kink, degradation, facial, big fat age gap (college age/mid 50s), no outbreak, modern au, birthday Joel, pet names (babydoll, pretty girl)

Wordcount: 3.4k

Notes: This is not lore accurate in the slightest, I just really wanted to write about giving Joel head. Please be gentle in criticism, I haven't written for an audience in a long time. And minors DNI OBVIOUSLY!!

"You ready?! We're gonna be late!" your father called up to you.

You were putting the finishing touches on your makeup. The occasion was a grill at your father's college friend's house for his birthday. His name was Joel Miller.

You'd met him a couple times before; he and your father sometimes got together to crack open some beers.

Ever since you first met Joel, he hadn't left your mind. He was tall and rugged with a dark tousle of hair. His daughter, Sarah, was a little younger than you. Your father had mentioned that she'd just moved into her college dorm.

The last time you had seen Joel was last November, at Thanksgiving. He and Sarah had come over to share a meal. Sarah was friendly but pretty quiet, and you two hadn't hit it off like you thought you would.

Joel...was a different story. Your brain replayed the limited interactions with him over and over, looking for a hidden meaning. Some days you swore he gave you meaningful looks, and other days you yelled at yourself for believing that a man like him was into a girl like you. Someone half his age.

So why were you getting all dolled up, when it would be hot outside and no one would be looking anyway? The same reason you'd bought a whole new sundress for the party, and even shaved. You secretly hoped one man in particular would be looking.

Your father yelled your name again. "Coming," you responded quickly, and added a final bit of mascara. You grabbed your white crossbody bag off the bathroom doorknob and slung it over your shoulders, completing the look. Clomping down the stairs in your wedges, you followed your father out to the car.

It was just you and him going. Your mother didn't feel good enough to go, claiming she "could feel a cold forming." More likely she wanted to avoid being stuck being in the car for an hour. Not that you could blame her.

Still though, you were definitely looking forward to the grill. Even if that excitement was tinged with anxiety.

Soon you and your father were bundled into the car. He was driving since he knew the roads better.

Actually, you'd never been to Joel's house. It was always him coming to see your father, not the other way around. You wondered what his house was like. Probably not big. Traditional? Modern? Cluttered? You had no idea.

Maybe you and Sarah would become better friends. You guys could at least talk about college.

20 minutes had passed and you were already getting irritated. Your father had elected to put on the most boring podcast known to man, one about the economy. A man with a way-too-cheerful voice was going on and on about GDP and supply-demand.

Putting on your headphones, you distracted yourself by switching between Twitter, Tumblr, and TikTok. The holy trinity.

And this was how the next half hour was spent: scrolling. Not very productive, but there really wasn't much to see except the highway. Thankfully it was pretty empty on this route; apparently Thursday afternoon wasn't a popular time to travel.

However, this bout of good luck ended as soon as you neared Austin. Traffic went from almost non-existent to congested within a minute. Your father sighed and turned off his podcast.

"Now comes the hard part," he sighed.

The next 15 or so minutes were wasted just inching through traffic. Everyone was trying to get to their exits, and people kept changing lanes at the last minute, or getting into the wrong lane, and the frustration was palpable. You were really glad you weren't driving.

After what seemed like forever, the two of you finally broke free from the highway and got onto a regular road. Soon you were zipping towards Joel's house at a nice speed.

"Did you bring a present?" you asked your dad.

"Nah," he remarked. "Men don't really need 'presents.'"

You scoffed a little at that. "Alright."

Now the sights were a little more interesting. Austin was bustling with activity.

You drove through the urban area for perhaps 5 minutes, then your dad turned and the buildings and crowds thinned out.

Eventually the two of you reached a nice suburb with rows of houses.

Within two minutes, your dad pulled up behind a bunch of other cars that were parked around what was obviously Joel's house.

"We're here," he announced (kind of uselessly).

It was pretty small, as you'd guessed. It was mostly made of brick, just one story, and the front porch was pretty bare bones.

But you could hear voices and music in the backyard. There were some people going up to the house, and the front door was wide open.

You and your father got out of the car and made your way up the sidewalk to Joel's house.

The door was covered with a screen. You opened it and stepped inside, your father closing it behind you.

"Joel," he called. "We're here."

There was no answer. You looked around the room.

It was pretty normal. Your average American house. There was a worn looking green sofa, a brown loveseat that didn't match the sofa at all, and directly in front of you was the kitchen. To the right was a little hallway.

Both the sofa and the loveseat were occupied by various people. "He's outside," someone said.

You and your dad walked into the kitchen, where the back door was. Stepping out onto the patio, you could see there were quite a few people here, of all ages. They must be his neighbors, you figured.

You heard a familiar voice shout your father's name. To your right was him. Joel.

"Joel!" your dad exclaimed, and they quickly embraced.

"Hey, little lady," he greeted you, smiling. Oh, that smile. It could mean a thousand things.

"Hey," you greeted him more shyly than you'd like. "Happy birthday."

He chuckled. "Ugh, don't remind me. Gettin' closer to death ain't no cause for celebration."

Your dad hooted in response.

"Tommy's helpin' me grill, over there," Joel said, pointing to his brother on the other side of the yard. You couldn't help but notice how big and veiny his hands looked-

You shook your head a little. Get a grip.

Joel was explaining some things, but you weren't really listening. Your senses were being overloaded with this man in front of you. That was the best way to describe him- he was very masculine. Big, broad shoulders, a solid build, and his beard made you imagine unspeakable things.

Eventually you asked about Sarah. "I'd love to catch up with her," you said.

Joel shook his head regretfully. "Ah, she's not here. She has class today. She goes to the University of Houston, dunno if your dad told you."

"Oh, that sucks." You nodded. "Well, you can tell her I say hey."

He smiled. "Will do."

For the next half hour, Joel, Tommy, and your dad tackled the grills and made a huge amount of burgers and hot dogs. Tommy made sure everything was organized so everyone was served in an orderly fashion.

You got a cheeseburger, plus some dangerously salty fries and sat at one of the folding tables to enjoy your meal.

Of course everyone here was a stranger, so you were expecting to be left alone. When someone sat beside you, you involuntarily jumped.

It was Joel, and he laughed. "Sorry, baby, ain't mean to scare you like that."

"Oh! Ha, no, you're good," you squeaked, quickly wiping your mouth. Gosh, could you be normal for one second?

"How's college? You're a sophomore now, right?" he asked.

You nodded. "Yeah. It's going pretty good, even though my classes are getting harder."

"Remind me of your major again..?"

"I'm undeclared right now. Just doing my generals."

Joel nodded his approval. "You know, I never even finished college."

That caught you off guard. "Oh. Wait, really? Then..."

He shrugged. "I dropped out. Didn't have the discipline or the intelligence. I went into an apprenticeship instead."

"Oh, that's definitely a unique path," you remarked.

"Now, don't you drop out," he said sternly. "You're a smart girl."

You laughed. "Not that smart."

"You got a boyfriend?" he asked suddenly.

Trying not to act shocked, you casually answered, "Nah. I don't."

"Good. You're too good for those boys. Too pretty."

You and Joel continued to chat about school and careers for a bit. Your gaze kept darting everywhere; looking at him was like looking at the sun. He was just a halo of light and focusing on him for too long made you nervous.

Finally he left, needing to attend to someone, and your brain ran at a million miles, replaying the conversation, criticizing your voice and responses, deducing anything meaningful from Joel's words. Did he mean something more when he mentioned a boyfriend? Or was he simply curious? Ugh...this stupid crush was driving you insane.

A couple hours passed, and the party slowly died down. By this time it was about 6pm. People started leaving; walking home or maneuvering their cars out of the puzzle that was the driveway and street.

To your dismay, you found your father curled up on the loveseat, way drunker than he should be.

"Guess he had a couple too many beers?" Joel said, chuckling.

You sighed. "I'm really sorry. I dunno what he was doing all this time. I should've checked on him."

"S'okay," Joel assured you. "Do you know the way home?"

"Ah, no..." you admitted, embarrassed. You'd barely been paying attention on the drive home.

"Hmm." Joel crossed his arms and thought. "Well...then you can't leave, can you?"

Oh.

Your heart skipped a beat. "Uh– um...I guess not? But I don't want to impose. I can try to find my way back."

But Joel shook his head. "Your dad would be mad if I sent you out there. It gets dark quick these days, y'know. I'd hate for you to get in trouble on the way back. Look...we have a guest room you can use." He looked at your dad again. "I suppose he'll be comfy right there."

Your dad was drowsy, laying on the couch, still in his day clothes.

"There's a bathroom you can use, right across from Sarah's room. I'll show you. If that's okay with you?" He looked for your consent.

"Um...well, if it's not too much trouble," you said.

"Oh, of course not!" Joel insisted. "You can even wear some of Sarah's clothes; y'all are about the same size. It'll be no trouble at all, baby."

There was that word again. Baby. You couldn't tell if it was platonic or not, and it drove you crazy.

"Well, alright. Thank you, Mr. Miller."

"Joel," he gently corrected. "No need to be formal."

He showed you the bathroom and the guest room, then let you shower while he helped Tommy clean up the mess from the party.

As you cleaned yourself, the only thing on your mind was:

This is going to be very, very interesting.

After you got dressed in Sarah's room, you went to the guest room next door and looked around. It was simply decorated, with a double bed and a dresser by the window. You put down your bag and hoisted yourself onto the bed.

Okay. Okay. Taking deep breaths, you thought about your situation. You were basically alone with a very handsome man whose room was a 5 second walk away, a man who may or may not be interested in you, a man twice your age with a daughter the same age as you.

Totally fine, nothing to worry about. He definitely was not going to be on your mind all night.

Laying down, you tried to distract yourself with your phone again.

After about 20 minutes there was a knock at the door. You got up and opened it.

"We finished cleanin' up," Joel told you. He leaned against the doorframe.

He was so tall.

"That's good," you said. "Thank you for letting us stay here, seriously. I dunno what I'd do without you."

Joel gave you that sweet smile again, his eyes crinkling in the corners. "No problem, missy. If you're still hungry, we got plenty of leftovers."

"Oh, that's okay," you assured him. "I'm more than full. The food was really good."

You were trying to ignore the slightly musky, deep smell that was coming from him. And the way that his shirt clung to his chest and biceps. And the way he was looking at you...

"You need anything else?" he asked.

"You've done so much already," you chuckled. "I think I'm all set for the night."

He smiled and nodded. "Well, don't be afraid to ask."

Get a grip, you creep.

Joel was berating himself. This was so not good.

It was more than not good, it was horrible. His friend's daughter, the same age as his own daughter, was in the guest room all by herself and all he could think were dirty thoughts.

It was her fault! Those cute, innocent looks she kept giving him drove him up the wall. Her pretty body, her adorably nervous mannerisms.

All Joel could think about was how good her lips would look wrapped around his cock.

He was pretty sure she felt the same way but didn't want to push it in case he was wrong. Then he'd really be in trouble.

It was going to be a very hard night.

A couple hours passed. You felt too awkward to venture out of the room, so you stayed on the bed for quite a while. Soon it became dark, and you were glad you didn't have to drive.

Feeling thirsty, you decided to go to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

Your dad was passed out on the couch. Joel was in the kitchen as well. Dammit.

"Hey, babygirl," he said. "Need something?"

"Oh- yes, just some water," you requested.

He got a glass down for you. Passing it to your, your fingers touched, and you swore he kept his there longer than strictly necessary.

Joel watched as you got water out of the fridge. You took a nice sip, then sighed. "Thank you."

"Oh, you've got something, right there-" Joel stepped closer to you and gently wiped the corner of your lips with his knuckle.

You could only stare at him as he did this. He was so close you could see the gray hairs peppering his beard.

He let his finger stay there, and returned your gaze.

The two of you stayed like that for a second, just looking into each other's eyes.

Finally you broke eye contact and he stepped back.

"Th-thanks," you stammered.

He continued looking at you. "You're a real pretty girl, you know," he said.

You weren't sure what to say.

Joel took your chin in his fingers, and ever so softly brushed his lips against your cheek.

You made a small noise and he hesitated. "Is this okay, baby?" he asked.

You could barely breathe or blink or do anything but nod.

Putting one hand on your cheek, Joel leaned in and softly kissed you. After a shocked second, you reciprocated, pressing your lips against his.

He sighed, and pressed deeper, gently sucking on your bottom lip. You felt his tongue, and opened your mouth a little, allowing him in.

You stood on your tiptoes and kissed Joel back. He tasted so good, with a hint of toothpaste.

"Oh..." he mumbled, hands going from your face to your back. He backed you up till you hit the counter, and he softly growled, pushing his tongue in deeper.

His hands traveled further down to your hips, and he started caressing your ass.

"So fucking soft," he whispered.

Joel's whole body was pressed against you, and you felt him getting excited.

Finally you broke the kiss, needing air.

"Jesus, this is so fuckin' wrong," Joel muttered. "I'm as old as your dad, for crying out loud..." He shook his head. "And look how excited you got me."

You looked down. There was a noticeable tent in his pants.

"Wow..." you whispered. You had done that.

"C'mere," he said, and pulled you down the hallway to his room. He closed the door behind you.

"On your knees, babydoll." He started undressing, pulling off his pants and boxers. You obediently knelt on the carpet.

Joel pulled your shirt off and tossed it aside. You got your first good look at his cock.

First of all, it was big. You weren't inexperienced, but you hadn't encountered anything his size before. It was girthy, with prominent veins going from the groin to the fat, leaking tip. It had a slight curve.

Joel placed his hand on your head. "Open," he ordered, and you obeyed, slightly sticking out your tongue.

He placed his cock on your tongue. You slowly licked up, making him groan.

"Fuckk, yes," he gasped.

You focused on just the tip, licking and slurping at it. His precum was already leaking out.

Joel's hand shot out to grip your hair as you slowly service him, dragging your tongue across the tip and eventually taking it in your mouth, sucking it.

The only noises in the room were Joel's breathy groans and the wet, slurping noise from your mouth as you licked stripes up his fat shaft.

"Just like that, baby," he whispered, stroking your hair. "So fuckin' good."

You took more of him in, looking up at his tightly shut eyes and furrowed brow.

Joel pushed his cock deeper into your mouth, first gently, then he got more impatient and rougher, thrusting into your mouth with little regard to your comfort.

"Yes, fuck, take my fucking cock," he growled. He put his hands on either side of your head and started roughly facefucking you, panting and groaning. His balls slapped against your chin.

You moaned and could feel your mouth producing drool as Joel wildly thrusted into you. His cock kept nearly hitting the back of your throat, and you were gagging a little.

Your drool pooled and dripped down onto your bare tits.

"Agh- mghhrgh-" you gasped, barely able to form a coherent word or thought. The only thing that was going through your mind was cock.

"Choke on it," Joel growled. He was getting mean with it. His cock pushed into your mouth again and again, not stopping or slowing, even as you choked on it. You desperately tapped on his thigh to tell him to let up.

Joel reluctantly did so, allowing you to take several gasping breaths before coaxing it back in. He resumed the pace, a little gentler than before, but still brutal.

By this time he'd backed you up so your head was against the edge of the bed. He was using your mouth like it was a fleshlight, an inanimate object. He was pulling at your hair.

Your eyes were tearing. You couldn't even suck anymore, just had to lay there while Joel used you.

How long had he felt like this? This pent-up frustration?

"Yes, yes, fuck," he chanted, thrusts growing more erratic. He was close.

You deepthroated him a few times, going until your nose was pressed against the hair at the base of his cock. You made sure your lips gripped his cock.

"I'm close, babydoll," he moaned. "Gonna fuckin' cum all over your pretty face. You want that? Yeah?"

"Mmm," you groaned in agreement, blinking several times.

"That's right. Gonna fucking swallow my cum, right? You little slut. You've wanted this cock for a while, huh? S'why you're drooling all over it like a dumb whore."

The insults turned you on. Joel kept thrusting, chasing his release, and your eyes rolled as you struggled to take it all.

Finally, Joel let out a loud groan and pressed himself against your mouth, cumming hard onto your tongue. His hot thick load rapidly filled your mouth, and you moaned softly as his balls twitched. He slowly pulled out and stroked his shaft, letting out a second thick load onto your forehead. It slowly oozed down your face onto your nose and cheeks.

Joel remained where he was, riding out the rest of his orgasm on your face. Soon he'd splattered his cum all over, glazing your cheeks, nose, and lips. Some of it dripped onto your tits.

You inhaled deeply as you caught your breath, amazed at the amount he'd let out. You licked your lips, savoring the taste of his load.

Joel puffed too, slowly coming down from his high.

There was a long silence, then Joel breathed: "Best birthday ever.”

[peaches2217]

Alright! One more post before returning to hiatus, because I've GOT to talk about the consult.

My blood pressure read astronomically high, and I admitted that I was scared to death. The nurse getting my vitals was so sweet. She led me through some deep breathing and assured me there was nothing to worry about, because I was in good hands. Her next attempt at getting my blood pressure was a little more accurate. 😅

Pretty standard from there: stripped from the waist-up, had a bunch of topless photos taken, demanded a share of the profits if they intended to upload the photos to OF or anything of the sort (admittedly I probably WOULD have made that joke, but alas, it didn't come to me until she'd already left). When she asked for my new patient paperwork, I handed her that... plus a half-inch-thick stack of papers containing my reference letters, medical records, and insurance information. I was NOT taking any chances.

A little while later, the assistant surgeon came in. She ended up not having to ask me very much, because pretty much every question she had, I had already provided an answer to via the records I printed out. She said she'd never seen a patient come in so thoroughly prepared and informed. So that's an ego booster! 😆 After that, we discussed the operation, pre- and post-op procedures, and what my procedure specifically would likely entail.

She was equally thorough (she answered about 70% of the questions I'd written down before I could even ask them!), and really personable. Apparently the very reasons my chest is such a pain to properly bind (namely that the combination of size and shapeliness makes it difficult to pass off as fat) are reasons she anticipates my surgery will be straightforward (it's easy to tell where tit ends and back fat begins), so hey, that's a plus! Since my chest is so large, she also quizzed me about complications I've faced just because of having big boobs (of which there are plenty), that way they've got one more reason to argue for my insurance to cover the surgery.

She left to go over all the paperwork I brought in, then about twenty minutes later, she came back in alongside the primary surgeon. The first thing out of his mouth: "So (assistant doctor's name) here says you're the most well-organized patient she's ever met." Today did wonders for my self-esteem. 😂

He came across as very well-informed, yet laid-back and easy to speak with. I was already pleased with what I'd learned about him through research, and his openness just served to increase my confidence in him. He proceeded to answer the other 30% of my questions before I even had a chance to ask them (and then stuff I hadn't even thought to ask), and then he discussed the process of them submitting my case to my insurance and seeking approval.

He said that approval rate is typically pretty high, but as he operates in a red state, some insurance companies put up resistance. I told him that my insurance company specifically covers GAC under specific prerequisites, and while the list of those prerecs I'd found was from another state, I'd cross-referenced and verified that my state also honors that coverage, so I didn't anticipate many issues. I told him I'd also prepared just in case there WERE issues, because the extra paperwork I handed over included the entire fifteen-page policy along with annotations referencing which OTHER papers I'd given them confirmed I met each prerec...

And before I could even finish, they both just bust out laughing. The assistant doctor clapped and told the surgeon "I told you! I told you, he did all our work for us!" For once, my neuroticism actually produced wholly positive results!

I was told when I booked my consult that I'd likely have surgery in the latter half of the year, and during my first sit-down with the assistant doctor, she estimated October or November. She turns and tells me that we can schedule it then if I need the extra time, but if I was interested, they had an opening August 5th. I said "August sounds great."

I'm just... I'm so happy. This turned out so much better than I could have hoped! The team is knowledgeable and friendly and have promised to keep me informed of developments through MyChart (where I'm also welcome to ask questions as I consider them), and it's all happening MONTHS before I was expecting it too if I was accepted. There was never even a question about accepting me, either. The nurse that took my vitals? One of the last things she did before turning it over to the doctors was give me three different business cards with her phone and fax, the assistant's, and the head surgeon's. They never planned on turning me away. 🥹

Y'all are gonna be hearing a LOT more about this once I'm fully back from hiatus, but oh my God. Thank y'all so, so much for your constant and continual support. I could NOT have made it this far without y'all! 🫂🫂🫂

[seaofreverie]

They Might Be Giants at the Roundhouse, London, 17th November 2024

Happy 35th to Flood, hooray!!!! So here's this thing that I've put together just in time for this occasion, my written record... I mean, my very lengthy and detailed review of the first and so far only TMBG show I’ve attended, on November 17th 2024 in London, so, the last show of the so-called “30th anniversary” Flood tour.

And yeah, I mean it that this thing is lengthy and mostly my personal insights on stuff but still, I wanted to share it since this was an event that I’d been anticipating for many many months, and I tried my best here to capture all the feelings this day brough and the whole magic and all the amazement surrounding it.

I’m also going to put here all of the 7 videos I took during the show, ranging in length from 7 seconds to 7 minutes. And they were taken from the front row, so the view is pretty great and something worth sharing I think!

So yep. Hope you enjoy!!

Every once in a while a day comes along in your life that feels like it’s been taken straight out of a movie. It’s hard to tell how often that happens, but probably not too often, since I can’t remember the last time it did before this. And what I mean here is that the day of my first TMBG show was pretty much nothing but moments that somehow felt just RIGHT, like everything was coming together just PERFECTLY, so that I could have the best possible experience and the best imaginable time!! Starting with my biggest wishes and hopes, down to all the extra details that I didn’t even think about previously. But anyway…

Before the show…

You’d think that I would start officially #freakingout about one of my biggest dreams in life coming true (seeing my favourite band, who are also one of my biggest special interests, in REAL LIFE, and enjoying one of their amazing live shows IN PERSON) earlier than this, but that only actually started on the evening of the day before the show. And because of that the entire next morning and afternoon felt really weird and tense in a way that I can’t really describe. But I hope you get what I mean. It’s like wow, it’s finally happening, but noooo wait hold on, I’m not ready yet…

And so my travel companions and I spent most of the day walking around Camden Town where the show was taking place, but for me that whole time was this really weird mix of feeling like I’m walking on clouds and like I’m just entirely somewhere else and also awaiting the scariest most important exam of my whole life.

We arrived by the venue sometime around 1 PM and when I saw the poster plastered on the wall that listed “An Evening With They Might Be Giants” among other acts, that was the moment when it maybe finally hit me that THIS THING WAS REAL. And maybe this is a good time to mention that the only thing left on the long list of all the things that could possibly still go wrong at this point, was managing to get a spot as close to the stage as possible, so, in the first row. And there were already two people just standing there by the venue when we got there and I actually couldn’t tell if they were already queuing up because, well, it was still so early. But I’m about 100% sure now that, in fact, they were.

Another important thing to note is that I was hoping to meet my friend at the show, who also attended the previous night’s show in Bristol, and me impatiently awaiting any sort of updates on how all of that went definitely added to all the nervousness I was feeling that whole day. And also, when I decide on something, well, I’m stubborn as hell so it HAS to go the way I planned it or I will be pretty much devastated.

But it was still super early and we had to get dinner and all that stuff so we left for now. And after some time I eventually got a message from my friend saying that NO, 5:30 will be too late for the first row, probably, and I was uhhhh, very on edge at this point. But ok. Better wait too long in the queue than regret not getting there earlier forever.

It was probably a pretty unusual sight to my brother (who I dragged along with me to the show) when I practically RAN to the venue when we were close to arriving there sometime past 4 PM. I swear I remember imagining that I’m already seeing a huge queue of people in front of me somewhere in the distance until I get closer and am relieved that no, no such thing happening, thank god. I mean, well yes, I was REALLY not even remotely chill about this whole thing guys. And yeah, it’s important to mention that I did travel over 1500 kilometers or so just for this show and nothing else. The whole trip and all the sightseeing I did in London in the days leading up to this day and afterwards was just an added bonus.

But alright, we got there. And what we were met with instead were maybe 15 or so people who were mostly scattered in small groups around the entrance. And a guy playing an accordion. Just in case I needed that extra confirmation that, yes, the gig I’m going to will be HERE and not in some other place. Yet I still had this worry as I started talking to one group of fans that waitttt, maybe they’re actually talking about some other band and I’m making a fool of myself…

But well yeah anyway, we were there, it was time to just wait for the big event now, time to be brave and use this opportunity to chat with other fans even a bit… And so I did, and despite not really having any opportunities to actually TALK in English to other people most of the time, I think I did pretty well. One thing that stuck with me the most for some reason was how these two guys were talking about how one of them doesn’t like BOOK and how that’s scandalous according to the other guy pretty much, and the other guy's statement on Synopsis For Latecomers was that whatever your opinion might be on the song, it’s still definitely a THEY song (I love that and I think about that all the time now, like man, it really is just They in a nutshell in a way).

And then my friend and their bestie arrived!! Just after we (all the people who were waiting already) decided to form some sort of actual queue. We found ourselves at the end of it, at least for now… And the remaining 2 hours of waiting for the doors to open were before us. It dragged on a bit of course but not TOO terribly, since I could catch up on all sorts of stuff with my friend, because we haven’t actually seen each other in oh, well over a year!

We talked about the Bristol show too among many other things, and I learned some important things, such as how Lie Still, Little Bottle got played already the day before, soooo… probably not much of a chance of it returning this evening (this might be like the only real thing I wish was different about this day because, AAAAHHH, THE STIIIIIIIIICK!!!!!! how I’d have loved to see that… But never say never, maybe it just wasn’t meant to be just YET!). And also how today the queue was luckily much smaller so, no being stuck in the third row this time!

Also, it started raining eventually, as it does in the UK, right, (it actually wasn’t rainy at all for most of the week I stayed there, just that day pretty much… another one of very few somewhat unfortunate things about this day) and it rained for probably close to an hour, and by god, did it get freaking FREEZING very fast. I inevitably had a huge cold for several days afterwards because of this, but well, what even is this sort of sacrifice, when in exchange you get the best possible concert experience. Because yeah, it definitely paid off to get there early, the queue never got SUPER long but still, wouldn’t have ended up where we did if it weren’t for that long wait.

And maybe now I should say some more general things about the wait, which is that this whole time, when I wasn’t feeling impatient, I was really just, truly soaking it all in (and not just the rain, lol). And a crucial part of that whole wait was that the accordion guy was still playing his songs, many songs of TMBG and at least a couple of John Linnell’s State Songs. I realize now that I should have written them down right after the show, because now all I remember him playing are Erase, South Carolina and West Virginia.

One funny thing that happened was when some guy walked by our (by then) pretty long queue and seemed surprised that there were so many people waiting for something. So my friend told him that we were waiting for a show and that it was a They Might Be Giants show, but what did he actually hear??

The guy: …Michael Jackson? But he’s dead!

So I guess that English speakers will also get the band's name terribly wrong sometimes, not just every vinyl vendor I’ve ever talked to back at home, lol. But yeah, he eventually got the name right but still, it’s really funny to think about… There May Be Giants, Michael Jackson… it’s all the same thing.

But alright, the last few minutes were drawing near… And then, at long last, we were in! And I guess I was so caught up in the moment (and also the fact that the security guy had a bit of an issue with my metal pins that I put on my jacket without really thinking about this possibly being a problem, oops) that I almost screwed up big time in a way because hey, we’re in, you’re free to go now, get your spot by the stage as fast as possible!! And so I got myself together, followed the example of my friend, and did that.

And ok, all in all, this was absolutely surreal to me. Only the very first of the many biggest this CANNOT be real moments of the night. Realizing that wow, we’re actually here… Nothing went terribly wrong in the end, we travelled all this way just to get here and here we are. And we’re in the first row!! OH MY GOD!! The folks who were ahead of us in the queue lined up by the left side and the middle of the stage, so we ended up to the right of Linnell’s keyboard and right in front of Marty’s drumkit. So we still had a very good viewing point if you ask me!

And I could NOT believe how close we were, the stage and all the instruments were SO CLOSE!!! This was actually my first time being in the pit at a concert, I’ve only ever known the balcony view… Meanwhile here they were, the legendary Main Squeeze in the REAL WORLD, the jackalope thingy on the drum kit that says They Might Be Giants… The pre-show music was blaring, everyone else was getting excited and I was suddenly HIT by all of it and how unbelievable and amazing and perfect it was and I was so so close to just crying right there because of it all…

But well, I collected myself and faced the fact that there was still at least an hour of waiting ahead of us (turned out to be an hour and a half, because the doors opened earlier than originally scheduled, but the show didn’t start until the original 8 PM anyway). But at least we were inside now, so no more freezing! And we could actually even sit down for a while finally (not that anyone besides me or my two friends did that from what I could tell, for once I managed to not care about how I appear to others and do what’s considered “normal” and it’s so great and important and such a big part of why this was such a wonderful evening in the end).

I also need to say that wow, Flansburgh’s intermission playlist really is so good. Not gonna lie that I was really excited for this part of the show as well, and I even had some very satisfying moments of recognizing a song or two and telling my friends about it (Funkadelic’s Can You Get To That will have a very special association for me now because that’s what was playing when we first got there). Some other memorable moments include when crew members were milling around the stage, and I’m pretty sure that none other than Stan Harrison walked in for a moment too?? Because those moments also served as constant reminders that THE GUYS will be here too, so soon…

Show time!!!

Set 1

Alright, time for what we all actually came here for. Time for the show. The lights went down for a moment, there were moderate amounts of screaming that made me feel like I’m back on a school trip visiting a theatre with other kids, who start screaming the moment it gets dark right before the play starts. But this time I was (even if just mentally) screaming along.

The recording of the song They Might Be Giants started playing, we watched a short animation on that huge screen at the back of the stage, and then, the scariest and most unexpected thing happened. The whole band walked in and after a couple seconds launched right into Synopsis For Latecomers. And I’m saying this kind of as a joke but actually though, can we agree that the emotion that comes with the first time you see *your band* in the real world is just something else completely and kind of impossible to describe. Because in a way it’s also just so funny: you arrived here specifically with the intention of seeing these guys and then, when that actually happens, it feels like the most shocking event of your entire life. A little MIND ERROR moment, wait hold up kind of moment, or even… a Brain Problem Situation, if you will.

But ok, I also need to admit that it didn’t help when I got distracted over the fact that less than half a minute into the song, someone from the crew walked onto the stage to fix something about Danny’s guitar. And with all that stuff put together I was only half aware of what was even happening and being played most of the time, and like a second passed before we got to the horns part of the song, and the horns entered the stage (accompanied by cheering from everyone). And it was all just. Happening. Right in front of me. Like it’s nothing and no big deal at all.

But anyway. While I’m still on the topic of this song I need to say that out of all songs played this one still stuck with me probably the most in a sense. Because days after the show I could still hear it still playing in my mind aaaaaaaall. the. damn. time. So all in all, this was definitely a total BLAST of a first impression. This is an amazing live song, and a 10/10 show opener, which I think is also fully supported by my reaction to it, as documented here. And the horns!!! The horns, ladies and gentlemen!!!

After the first song we got greetings and an introduction from Flansburgh, who said that this was the last show of the run of Flood shows… and that they had to figure out a way to include all songs from Flood in the show. So what got played next was the obligatory Particle Man, something that I found myself being all sort of like “alright, of course…” about at first... I mean… it is funny and don’t get me wrong, this song is great live, and I loved the whole “Triangle Man, take off for the planet, for the planet VENUS!” bit of course (oh it was really really great and GRAND and loud), but I guess this also shows how very quickly I got into this whole spirit of a regular TMBG show goer of sorts, who already sort of resents one of the most played songs… even before actually hearing it.

Next up was Meet James Ensor and here’s another really funny thing: how surprisingly hard it can be to identify the song that’s being played during a show. You know them all and know all the lyrics, and yet you aren’t aware of what you’re actually singing??? *HOW* does that work!! Because the whole time I thought it was actually James K. Polk, later I couldn’t remember which of the two it was actually… And I only realized which song this actually was on the next day, when a random bit of conversation reminded me that yes, those were the lyrics of Ensor that I was singing yesterday.

However, you must forgive me for these follies, because it’s hard to think clearly when you have to catch up with the fact that without pause, the next thing played is The Famous Polka. It’s like oh my god it’s actually THE Famous Polka. The infamous Famous Polka stage collapse incident (so, the first thing that comes to mind concerning this song, to me) aside, another notable thing about this song is that it’s SUCH a blast of energy live. I want to say that around this point of the show I started really getting into it and singing along and stuff (well, not singing yet on THIS song) and I’ll add some more general thoughts of this nature at the end of the post but by god, is the pure energy and excitement of a TMBG show impossible to convey in any recording. I think you just really have to be there to really understand what it’s all about. And a song like this one might be one of the finest examples of that.

And now, for something completely different… Moonbeam Rays! Lovely song that mostly helped me get into the mood of how beautiful this whole moment was, you know… I might be wrong about when exactly that was, but I got seriously close to crying once more during the show, and it’d be probably a fair guess to say that it was sometime during this song. And afterwards, we got some more insights from Flansburgh.

JF: This is the last show of the Flood show thing. (audience makes a sad “oooooh” sound) Yeah, it’s a little bit sad… it’s a little bit *excellent!* (audience laughs)

And then the Johns started talking about how they “started doing this pre-pandemic…” And it delighted me SO MUCH that they pointed this out because I could never get over how the Flood anniversary tour started when the album turned 30, and at the time of the last show of the tour it was two months away from turning 35!!

JF: It’s taken more years to celebrate the anniversary of Flood than it took to *make* Flood.

But as Flansburgh said, it was time to move on to some other, less popular things… And also he shared with us that he walked through a beautiful part of London today, wondering how it would feel to have enough money to “belong there”. Linnell said that he was resting up for the big flight, and that he was actually resting up for it RIGHT NOW.

JF: There’s nothing John Linnell likes more than a *paid rehearsal*.

JL: It’s a sweet ride… When you get to be *this* age…

JF: Nothing matters at all.

JL: Every day above ground is beautiful.

If you ask me, that last sentence deserves to be immortalized as one of the most iconic stage banter moments, and in a way it already has, because it inspired this wonderful piece of art, and who knows what else.

The following songs were Letterbox (and a short break from singing from me, because that song is already impossible to follow with, and then you add all the excitement of the moment and it’s impossible impossible) and Twisting!!! This started a long series of songs where the moment it starts I get super excited because I KNOW this song is a huge deal and a favourite but it takes me at least a couple of seconds to get to WHY this is a huge moment… through remembering and recognizing the song. And AAHHHH this song was so amazing, the bridgeeee, and then also the extra outro with the guitar solo and all, the energy!!! God, it truly is incomparable. And I totally didn’t expect that outro so that made it all an even better time.

And so we were well into the Flood songs segment, because next up was another of my top favourites from the album, Someone Keeps Moving My Chair! And another wonderful sing-along moment, but honestly, which of all these songs was not… (other than Letterbox, but that was just because of my lack of practice with that one). Chanting the title of this song, especially that one penultimate, elongated CHAAAAAAIIIIIIIR, kind of healed something in me I think.

After that was done, the Johns gave us some more insights into the performer’s life and all the things that they’ll never get used to, such as crowds that continue beyond your line of sight.

JF: …So you sort of think like: “I gotta get these people going, I gotta rock these people…” And then it’s like: (said in a silly, high-pitched voice) “But there’s no end!...”

Flansburgh remarked on the special challenge that they had come across this time, which was that we were all in a circular room, which is exciting, but means that people continue past where the stage is…

JF: I hope you guys got your tickets on Stubhub or something. I mean, can you even see us? I can barely see *you*. In a hockey match this would be unacceptable.

Another thing that Linnell would never get used to was when there’s a huge crowd of people, all of them happy and singing along, but then there’s one guy “who’s got this sort of Charles Manson expression”. This one really made ALL the people laugh. The Charles Manson guy included I hope.

JL: Never got used to that! For some reason.

JF: Tomorrow: Get. Linnell.

(JL pretends to be writing something down)

JL (addressing the audience): Not to put any ideas in your mind…

But moving on, as I said it was more Flood time indeed, with Whistling In The Dark. Me calling each single song amazing and a blast and so much fun is probably already getting a bit repetitive by now, so one special point of interest with this one and its live version is when near the end we get this little vocals only moment and then the horns come in again, then joined by everything else with such fanfare… simply triumphant.

Also, maybe this is a good moment to say that man, on one hand thinking about this show and how I’m going to hear THE ACCORDION was always a huge deal, but even then, I wasn’t prepared for how cool the accordion really is in person. It sounds kind of different from what I’m used to from recordings, and definitely makes a heck of a great impression all in all. One could wonder why it’s not more popular in rock music, because really, just how amazing is it?? And it can create all sorts of moods.. which is something I’m just about to get into properly too. Also, speaking of horns, Flansburgh gave a special shout out to the horns at this point, and began to introduce the next song.

JF: This next song is called The D-... uh, I forgot what it’s called, but… (JL laughs)

Even if it weren’t for this slip-up with the name, I already could tell from how Flansburgh went back to talk about how this was a song put together by Stan Harrison and introduced all the guys individually… That *IT* was in fact happening, one of my biggest hopes when it comes to songs I wanted to hear in person the most. The Darlings Of Lumberland - THE horns song to beat them all. And at this point I had to get my camera ready and start recording because well, this would definitely be one of the most preservation-worthy and outstanding moments of the show.

I was not mistaken of course, the way all the instruments complement each other here, most importantly the horns and the accordion, is something beautiful. This is one of the best examples of how the studio version just sounds so WEIRD to me now, even though it’s been my big favorite for a long time in that form as well. All in all a hypnotising moment, and coming back to my earlier question, maybe THIS was the only other song that you don’t really sing along to, because you have to just. Take it all in. Soooo much going on. And yes, no less important, THE CHOREOGRAPHY - *EVERYONE* did the hand thing!!! So you know, another good reason to have this one specifically caught on film.

Anyway, I was going to put my phone down for the time being but THEN... could it be, another of my top wished-for songs?? Cause yeah, without a pause we got the one and only screaming introduction to Let Me Tell You About My Operation from Flansburgh and oh boy, is this yet another song I could talk for many minutes about. First of all, I had very very high hopes for one of, what I think is often referred to as, Flansburgh showman moments. So, songs such as this one, Lie Still, Little Bottle, She’s Actual Size, and a couple others.

This song is a whole new story live, alright. Again, you have to be there to really get what it’s all about I think. JF’s energy is very infectious and awesome here to put it just mildly, and the horns add a whole lot, the whole song is just one big moment of old-timey big band-style musical bliss. And then there is also time to shine for all the other guys in the band, with awesome solos from Dan and Marty (ok, it appears that there was no special Danny time though?? Sad), AND the horns on the horns. Also Linnell doing this sort of thing on the keyboard where he plays all the notes quickly, sort of sliding down or up all the keys… Ok, I looked it up, I think that’s called glissando? So yeah, that also stuck in my head especially, because it was so fun. One of the top 5 moments of the show, without a doubt.

And now, alright, When Will You Die? is not a song that ever struck me as much of a favourite, besides being a very outstandingly hilarious and real song when it comes to lyrics of course, but I can’t lie and say that I wasn’t very happy to hear this one too. Singing these lyrics in a room full of hundreds of people who did the same was an incredibly grand moment, ok.

And then… then we were met with the haunting sounds of the intro of Road Movie To Berlin. A song that’s still, even after dozens of relistens, a whole experience each time I hear it when listening to Flood, and, as you might expect, it’s even more of an experience live. And I’m of course mostly talking about this whole sort of breakdown section near the end, but just the whole entire thing really hits anyway.

So when it started I definitely had a little moment of “oh shit, here we go, THE moment is here…”. Something akin to this happened over and over during the whole show obviously, but still, I feel like it was especially big here. Another thing is how later my friend laughed that they once again felt like they were the only person singing the secret third verse. Well, at least one more person did (me). Anyway, all in all it was just, magical, truly.

So, uh. Now, enjoy some top-notch banter that followed.

JL: So, uh, what’s going on here.

JF: We’re in London, John.

JL: We’re in London, we’re doing songs from Flood.

JF: We’re in yet another circular building.

JL: Right.

(a moment of silence)

JF: We’re doing songs from Flood. This is one of them.

(some people in the audience make clearly audible “wooo” noises)

JL: We get to woo.

(people laugh and woo even louder)

JL: There’s this thing in Britain where people get creative with the interactive thing. And it’s kind of good and it’s kind of, like… it worries us. The drunken part of it. It’s a problem.

(someone in the audience laughs in a very pronounced drunken manner)

Ok, Women And Men, that was the next song. Not much to say about this one to be honest, or like, anything at all really. And then more Flood, in the form of Your Racist Friend, which totally rocked, and we, I mean WE specifically, had the pleasure of standing where we could enjoy how Jordan Katz played his trumpet solo right in front of us. Honestly, this was kind of the only major downside of standing where we stood, that the horns were kind of hidden from our view for the most part… So this was a GRAND moment.

I have found that no matter how many times I watch recordings of it, the way Stellub gets introduced at these shows is always extremely funny to me, so here’s, like, almost all of how that went this time.

JF: Folks, we’ve got a very special treat for you right now. When we first embarked on doing these Flood shows, we thought: what can we do to make the show a little more challenging, a little more of… an endurance test. So we thought, we’ll take the time out to learn a song *sonically in reverse*...

(a long pause prompting audience laughter)

JF: …present it to the crowd… who might not enjoy that. (audience laughs) But then, we’re going to record it, on our very special fancy video recording machine, and we’re going to reverse the tape, and present it to you at the top of the second set, which will be… *pure entertainment*.

(audience laughs and woos. claps, also)

JF: …so think of the next two and a half minutes as a *musical investment in your future* (audience, well, laughs). If you brought friends here, we understand; they might be looking at you, going: “WHY?” (audience laughs some more) “Why this, why now? Life is complicated enough, why do bands *insist* on performing songs in reverse?”. But I can assure you, it’s a huge payoff. Especially if the machine works.

At this point I should give a shoutout to my uninitiated brother, who is not a fan of TMBG and whom I sort of dragged along with me here, although well, he did agree to this whole thing (besides the standing in the rain for two hours. He says that’s the part that he didn’t need to experience but well, what could *I* possibly do about that). Because he told me later that yes, the song in reverse thing was pretty cool. Well, I guess I could say as much anyway from how he definitely seemed very amused by Flansburgh’s introduction. But he also told me that if they didn’t say anything about this song being played in reverse, he wouldn’t even be able to tell, because it didn’t sound all that different from all the other songs. So I guess that answers my question of how newcomers may perceive TMBG’s lyrics, in a way. At least in the live show environment. It must be a lot to take in at once.

But anyway, the Johns joked about this whole thing some more (and how the screen was unusually huge for them and had this whole sort of 70s delay effect) and Linnell informed us that he would kick one of his shoes off at the end of the song and that we would also see THAT backwards.

JL: It’s just gonna be CRAZY! It’s gonna look… can’t even describe it.

JF (in silly gruff voice): Tonight! On video tape!

So, Sapphire Bullets Of Pure Love. You know, it’s just yet another of those things where I’ve been awaiting THIS MOMENT, IN REAL LIFE for so long. Very fun and at this point I sometimes even feel like I might be more familiar with the reversed sound of this song than the original… Like, it comes to mind more often. “stiiiiillub rah-fahs”, “stosh-nog, stosh-lut-sip” and similar phrases followed me around for days after the show. And I love how expressive the Johns are during this song, it’s just this whole theatricality of it that makes it very funny and awesome.

My favourite moment was when, in spirit of, well, all of this being performed in reverse, Marty also did the counting down to the start of the song with his drumsticks, but at the end. I read later that Linnell also used to sometimes instruct the audience to applaud before they start playing the song and damn, I wish he still did that because that's just hilarious.

And could this really be… the last song of the first set already - Brontosaurus. One thing about this song is that I used to not care about it much, until I saw a recording of their first live performance of it all the way back sometime around the end of 2022 / beginning of 2023, when I just about cried from the wonder of it all. This song is just a whole new thing live, in huge part thanks to the horns of course. Cathartic maybe is the right word for it. One of those songs that I could be pretty much 100% sure I would hear on this day but even despite that, when it actually came to it… Very very beautiful moment. Maybe this is when I almost cried again actually? Well, there were many contenders.

Set 2

So as you just read here, there was an abundance of stuff in the first set already that had me all like “this is the BEST!!!”, yet… We had this little moment of doubt with my friend, because: a) they were hoping to still hear at least a couple of songs that they didn’t already hear the previous night, b) I, having “analyzed” the setlists from this leg of the tour so far, in order to assess how likely I’d be to hear some of my favs, and if there’s any logic to how they change from night to night, decided that there’s two main setlist that the band alternates between. But based on the first half of the show so far it seemed to me like this was going to be a very similar set of songs to last night’s, and out of those two variants, the one I was hoping for less than the other… It was mostly them playing Darlings today once again that made me think this.

And all in all in my head it was like, well, I’ll probably get either the show with Darlings & Lie Still, Little Bottle (+the STICK!!!) OR the show with lots of miscellaneous songs that were very high on my wishlist. So, in either case I’d be happy, but maybe a bit more happy if we got the second option here…

Anyway. What I’m saying is that, keeping all of the above in mind, and how my expectations for the second set were shaped by that… I really can’t overstate how much of an UNREAL NO WAY YOU GOTTA BE JOKING THIS IS NOT ACTUALLY HAPPENING RIGHT??? time it turned out to be.

So let’s get right into why. And boy, there’s a lot. In a way this is when this show REALLY started for me, not that what was earlier wasn’t incredibly fun and amazing already but. This was just a whole different league. It’s like, I could say that earlier I felt at moments like I’m sometimes transported into some alternate dimension, and from here on it was all just, being transported into that joyous alternate dimension for the whole duration of the show. The TMBG dimension. I’ll get back to this, but being here was really just something like, a different type of existence, so different from the often bleak daily life that I’ve been way too familiar with until then.

One thing that sort of added once again to this whole “it’s all perfectly falling into place” feeling, even before the show started up again, was how I tried to pay attention to the intermission music again, and remembered from my days of watching many live show recordings in late 2022 how someone pointed out that when this one specific song plays, you can tell that the show will start in just a moment. And yeah, they were right. Girl Don’t Come started playing so I knew…

And so the second set started with the reversed recording of the Stellub performance of course (how many times have they performed it by that point? Over a hundred? But yeah, it was scarily accurate, as always), and the alternate version of Hearing Aid with this whole little animation thing, which was also a lot of fun to watch actually.

And so the band was back for the second round… with Memo To Human Resources! So I’d known for a while that this song has been a pretty oft played one recently, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen any recordings of it live? And to be honest my memory of this song is really blurry, so it’s still kind of an enigmatic moment to me now, all in all I’m sure though that it must have hit the same way Moonbeam Rays or Brontosaurus did, and that might explain this whole effect it presumably had on me, heh.

And now, ok. Man, It’s So Loud In Here will never ever feel the same way to me again. Because actually nothing could have prepared me for how amazing it was live. And I didn’t even particularly anticipate this one, but when we got to it… I knew already that it was going to be a blast.

I remember thinking that this is one of those moments that you simply can’t capture in any way, you’re just fully here in the moment and you live it there and remember it forever. I was also thinking about the meaning of the song, about this classic TMBG fashion of singing this song in this huge room full of people, a song about how it’s so loud in here. And I was wondering if that’d be another of those little confusing moments for people unfamiliar with TMBG because yes, I suppose it’s pretty silly… On top of being an incredible and actually moving experience. I’m shedding a tear just thinking about it all now.

So now, more Flood time! Minimum Wage, a song that, per Linnell’s words, they’ve been playing “for 40 years”...

JL: …And we just got to the point where we all end at exactly the same time. We had so much integrity for so long… And now we’re just sleek… robots up here.

JF: Yeah, that AI showbusiness stuff. Nobody likes it - you gotta do it, you know. It’s the way people DO IT!

JL: I’ve got six fingers…. (JL demonstrates how he has six fingers, apparently)

JF: Yeah, yeah… (with emphasis) *AI*.

(long pause prompting audience laughter)

JF: It makes its own punchline!

But um, what was next on the agenda (John)? More songs from the Flood album, oh yes! Let’s give the people some more of what they want!

JL: That feisty… that album by that bunch of maverick… young… rulebreakin’... (pause) But those days are gone.

JF: Well, the one thing that remains is the barricade putting eight feet between us and the front row. That’s the important thing. The distance.

JL: And you know, it’s not for *our* protection, it’s for *yours*.

Alright, so here’s another song. Here’s another song from Flood. And that song is We Want A Rock. What I remember the most about this one is, once again, the beauty of being able to sing these “ridiculous lyrics” when everyone else is doing the same thing, when we’re all singing about how everyone wants a rock to wind a string around and about how everyone wants prosthetic foreheads on their real heads but someone in this town is trying to burn the foreheads down. At some point I just couldn't help having a little laugh over the joy of it all. And also, *boom boom boom* “ooooOOOOOOH!!” *boom boom boom* “oooooOOOOOOH!!”

Then it was Marty time, starting with the drum intro and the BUZZER, for it’s time for Hot Cha! Which becomes even more of a blast with the HORNS of course, and at the very end, can you believe it, I forgot that they change the last line of the song to “please come home” live, so I was slightly taken aback by that. Yes, that’s important to mention here, somehow.

Flansburgh introduced the next song as a song from the Lincoln album and for some goddamned reason the only song I could think of at the moment that fit that criteria was Shoehorn With Teeth.

It was not Shoehorn With Teeth. It was the song that came back to live rotation earlier in 2024 during the spring US tour, but seemed to fall from it afterwards once again, which was a shame, because it’s like, probably my favourite TMBG song to be honest and its newest live rendition was absolutely breathtakingly amazing from what I’ve seen from recordings online. I’m not sure if I was aware by that point of how it miraculously returned as an encore at the show of the night before…

But still, this was like the biggest “this can’t be real actual and happening right now” moment of the night, and maybe. of my. entire life?? And it of course took me a couple of seconds to recognise the song STILL, besides the instant punch of that *feeling* that happened the second the song started. Yeah, Where Your Eyes Don’t Go, played live at my show just like I dreamed about, no big deal, everyday stuff, haha.

The song really IS freaking amazing live though. Where would we be without THE HORNS!!! And honestly I could say a bit more about this “fav song” situation, because not only is it of course among my most beloved ever songs at this moment and has been for over two years, I also remember distinctly that it was the FIRST TMBG song that I loved and couldn’t get enough of and replayed over and over, and it’s a big reason behind why I became a fan in the first place. So, the extra beauty of the significance of it all, it just blows my mind completely.

So, Lucky Ball And Chain was a short little break for collecting myself again, because obviously we were far from done with all the biggest wonders of the night still. And I’m not saying that the song wasn’t a good time, it of course was just like everything else here, so it’s safe to just assume that without me specifying each time. Lol.

But, as I said, the break was short. I would have put seeing Spy live somewhere at the top of my general life goals / bucket list thing, if I had one, that is. I had been very vocal about wanting to see THAT song in particular in discussions with my friend, so the excited glance we exchanged the moment this song started was absolutely priceless and a thing of pure wonder.

Anyway, we all know Spy. We all know that it’s one of the most often played live songs of theirs, and that the reason behind its live durability is the several minutes long improvised jam band section at the end. And I might be one of those maybe rare kinds of people who wouldn’t mind hearing it a hundred times more. It IS improvised after all, so… different each time, ha! It was also very vital to me that I get to take part in the audience participation segment of it… and this is also what was granted to me on this magical evening by whatever godlike forces exist above.

So yeah, this was yet another among the top 5 show moments of course… The biggest highlights here were when Linnell did this sort of old-timey speech (“THIS! Is the *sound* of the thirties. The sound of the SWING ERA!”) that’s probably a reference to something that I’m completely unfamiliar with so that only makes it funnier, and the whole audience conducting part from Flansburgh at the end, because man, he was having a total BLAST with this, it was such a joy to see. And we were all also having a great time, by doing our part and screaming as if we’re in hell. All I’m trying to say here is. I love hellish noise, I love cacophony. This is my perfect kind of show experience, I won’t be hearing any arguments about this.

Ok, so what was the next thing that the Johns prepared with the intent of dealing the biggest emotional damage imaginable to us? Well, remember how Last Wave had never been played live until earlier this year and then they never played it again. Guess what happened now. Well, that’s yet another of the huge and one of the earliest personal favourites of mine returning onto the setlist on the previous evening actually.

This song is. Augh. I just love how it has this sort of elegant, but emotional sound that kind of sets it apart. It’s a completely singular song to me in every sense and I always wondered why they never played it live, but now I’m just glad they finally started playing it. Gotta love yet another AMAZING trumpet solo from Jordan Katz and the Johns’ overdramatized delivery of the lyrics, it’s so much fun. And this song also provided us with some more epic Marty moments, especially the solo and the ending, both just like on the studio recording technically… So maybe that’s why they were so great to see recreated in real time too?

JF: I think we were all a little stunned by the majesty of the ending of that song.

Two days before the show I went to the Natural History Museum here in London, and that's actually very relevant here because when I saw the exhibit that was entitled “Mammals” in that museum, that was when the SONG Mammal started following me around in my mind, for like, most of the remaining time of that day. And I had the amazing realization that oh, it’s not impossible that I could hear this song this next Sunday, played live, so awesome!!

So yeah of course, they played Mammal next. And honestly I’m not even that attached to this song, I do still love it though and it’s one of those situations where I see myself become excited over songs that I feel like are big fan favourites and something that other people are probably very happy about hearing, heh. But maybe even more important yet is that this meant APOLLO 18 representation!! So special to me.

Now I’ll just say that it’s worth it avoiding spoilers sometimes. Like, show spoilers, because I guess I didn’t actually watch that much recent footage and so I had no idea about what other awesome fun stuff was just about to happen.

JF: Folks, folks… we’ve been informed by the people who work here that every single person in the audience tonight is carrying a silly little phone with them. And we'd like to take full advantage of that right now…

We were instructed by Flansburgh to get our phones and open our camera and set it to selfie mode! And then Turn Around, Turn Around, (there’s a thing there that can be found)…

JF: We can see you now and I can tell that nobody is doing what I’m talking about.

You know, so this is when you get to live that wonder of actually BEING THERE once more. And enjoy the way that specifically TMBG shows are, because I’ll be real, I can’t think of any other concert where I could see something like this happening.

JF: Everybody, spin around for just a little bit, get a selfie and we’re gonna photobomb your selfie.

JL: Which we tried to do last night and nobody was getting it!

JF (interrupting): That’s not true! On social media you’re gonna see some very good evidence that some people got together over the course of the twenty minutes we dedicated to this portion of the show.

So yeah, now I can even keep on living my life knowing that I technically have a photo with my favourite musicians in the world. Definitely not something I expected to gain after this day.

JF: We’re gonna take a lot of time doing this. This is possibly the least important thing we’ll be working on…

So that was awesome!!! BUT WAIT THERE WAS MORE!!!!!!

JF: Ok folks, this the second part of the test: see if you can find the flashlight portion of your phone - the more traditional rock portion.

That “more traditional rock portion” part must have been lost on me then, because this was still a singular moment to me (I haven’t been to many live shows before this anyway), and I could only really think of one other thing that this immediately reminded me of. I like yearning for all sorts of things, including those that are in the past now and that I never even could have had a real chance of participating in. Such as the Hollywood Bowl show in 2023, where TMBG opened for Sparks, and during the Sparks show and the song All That everyone in the audience took out their phones and there was this whole sea of lights, people swaying with their phone torches to that song. So, yes, I was NOT expecting either that I’d get to experience THIS as well. After all.

At first I wasn’t even aware that all the stage lights had been turned off for the next song, because with all those torches facing the stage it was so bright in here!! And the song that got this special treatment was Dead - very fitting I must say. The large procession waved their torches AND sang, and I can hear it on the recording of this song especially that the audience was really into the singing part. Loud and beautiful and touching to be there.

And then it was time to thank the band, since the end of the show was actually drawing closer and closer, as absurd as it may have seemed to think about… (not that there was really time to stop and think about that anyway). And I think the Johns did some sort of jab at Elektra Entertainment here, but I unfortunately couldn’t catch what they were saying, rip. Anyway, it must have been very funny I’m sure.

So what songs could possibly still be left and ahead of us now? Two more songs from Flood, here we go.

Why is the world in love again? Because it's time to be marching hand in hand and singing Theme From Flood! And once again being reminded of how WE'RE ALL HERE TOGETHER. All in all, the moment of this song, and it going right into Birdhouse In Your Soul, yes, that was just as ethereal and unreal as I imagined it would be. Even now, as I'm thinking back to it, I start to feel overwhelmed with the excitement, how I was just sort of going “YES YES YES!!!” in my head, after the “I'm your only friend” bit, when it gets kind of quiet for a second and it starts up again we're all jumping and cheering. I could only try to picture an approximation of this scene in my mind months earlier, so thinking about how this actually happened is still absolutely surreal to me. There's just nothing else like Birdhouse.

…

Damn it, I still have a bit more of the show to write about, it’s not the time for tears, brother.

I didn’t want the song to end and it almost seemed like the band didn’t either, because Linnell kept singing the “soul” at the end for several more seconds and also making it goofier still.

Encores time

End of show? No, two encores now. The encore waiting and clapping time until the band comes back on stage felt much much shorter than it always did when I watched recordings of shows. Shouldn't be surprising but everything here felt like it took 10% of the time it actually lasted.

So it was time for the most wondrous thing, a John and John only performance as a duo! This wasn't a total surprise to me, because I knew they switched up the way they play this particular song once again, on some nights at least, but I couldn't be sure that I'd be blessed enough to witness it myself too… And here it was, about to happen!!!

People were screaming Istanbul a lot. I could’ve been easily more annoyed by that, but you know what, I think this is necessary too. How could this be a REAL concert experience without a bunch of presumably drunk people shouting out the titles of songs and being annoying. Maybe if one of those people was standing close to us I'd be talking differently, but… It's part of the charm, sorry.

It was in fact Istanbul (Not Constantinople) time. I’ll be honest, if it weren’t for the duo format I would have not cared for this song any more than I did for Particle Man. But it turned out to be one of my favourite things on this show, yeah, this evening subverted so many expectations in every sense, alright.

You could argue about the significance of the duo format here because OMG, it’s just like in the old days!!!! The good old days or whatever. But no, it’s also just… I don’t know. Even to me, who obviously hasn’t known TMBG for that long, it was another of those kind of touching moments. And what made it all even better was when soon after this show, I happened to watch a video of a Flood show… from 1990. Like wow, this really is kind of just like the 1990 duo days. EXCEPT it’s much cooler now actually.

I didn’t record this song but definitely would have if our view for it was better. Well, thankfully someone else took care of that anyway. And I think that instead of me trying to describe it here, everyone should just do themselves a favour and watch it. I can't get over how beautifully unserious and funny this performance was, watching that must have been the most fun I've had in a looooong time. Again, top 5 moments of the night, maybe top 3 even.

Now, what were the funniest bits. “Peoplejustpeoplejustpeoplejust…” and the Get In The Car bit. And the “yeeeeeees”. And the “noooooo”. And the “istanbuuuuuuul…. ouuuuu…. oouuuuuu…”. You get it, right.

Can’t Keep Johnny Down was the second song of the encore and this performance is the only reason why this song suddenly became like, a literal favorite. The power of live shows! Now whenever I hear it I'm just like. OOOOOH Johnny. Save me Johnny, save me.

Linnell told us “thanks so much, you guys are great!” before they all left the stage :) And of course there was still one more song that I had to hear today. So after more clapping and cheering they were back on stage again.

JL: Yes! Thanks a million. No! Two million! (in a bit of a jokey voice) …I’ve never thanked that much before.

And you know what, I choose to believe that he meant it.

The last song of the night was Doctor Worm. I don’t know what else I can say about this song now, just that upon relistening to this whole show again I’m realizing that I could just. call this song kind of a perfect live song. Maybe I associate it with live shows more than anything else since it's not featured on any studio album and I've definitely heard it wayyyy more times in the form of live recordings than the studio version. And also maybe I lied that Synopsis haunted me the most after the show, Doctor Worm must have been even more insistent in that sense, and I had no issue with that honestly.

And so, with the last one “They call me Dooctooor WOOOOOORM!!” and a finishing BWAAAAA from the horns, the show was over.

After the show

Don’t worry, there’s much less to talk about now in terms of the after show stuff compared to before the show. Just this one important thing that, yet again, as if this wasn’t ENOUGH ALREADY…!!! We had to hang out by the stage for a bit longer still, because there’s a chance of ending up with a SETLIST. Or a drumstick. But I guess the setlist was more important.

And Marty walked over to us. And handed us the setlist. I mean, it was my friend who grabbed the setlist, but to me that was just like we all were chosen, it really didn't matter to me who actually had it. So it was a win! I really couldn’t ask for anything else by that point. I got it all.

Then we had to wait for a bit by the merch stand because lots of folks gathered there and thankfully, there was still lots of stuff to choose from! I would have loved to go a bit more crazy with this maybe, but since I still had to keep in mind having to travel back with all this stuff, flying, customs and all that… I settled for a tour shirt, because yeah, a shirt with the dates of the tour I ATTENDED printed on it? I needed that, that would do as the only physical souvenir even, no need for anything more (well, I actually did get a bit more, because the very next day I went by a random record store here in Camden Town in hopes of finding THE album somewhere in London still. and guess what I found….., but that’s a whole different story so let me just limit myself to only the day of the show in this post). The shirt is a total slay by the way, I love the burgundy color.

After we left the venue we still managed to bump into more folks going back from the concert. And like 3 different people in total who asked us about the setlist and where we arrived from, said that woooow, you deserve to have it then. Thank you people for also appreciating all the hard work that went into this.

My brother & I had a very short way back to our hotel now, so in the end it really felt like we just returned from a quick little fun event just down the street. Even though we travelled pretty far to get here, you know. So it didn't even feel like some huge endeavour or anything all that unusual, and I mean that in the best way possible.

So my day ended with my head full of thoughts and images and fragments of songs looped ad nauseam. And also with an aching back and no energy left in me to stand for even one more minute. The tiredness was very real but I must say that tired-happy might be one of the best emotions / states one could have to deal with. I hope I can do all of this again someday, because I’m actually so serious that I wouldn’t mind going to a TMBG show every other evening if I could. That’s the dream actually.

Miscellaneous T(houghts) time

Ok, I swear I’m almost done. Just a couple general / finishing observations about the show as a whole now.

● First of all, I want to come back for a bit to that TMBG dimension thing. Because this whole thing really was sort of like entering some sort of different mode of existing. The Johns are very funny guys and the whole band’s energy is extremely infectious, but I also think it’s a very special thing how their stage presence creates this whole atmosphere that’s just completely laid-back and fun in the purest form of fun. Even when there’s a big crowd and we’re in an “important” venue. Because you sort of really feel at home, like you’re exactly where you belong. And earlier I could imagine it being more like, oh the stakes are so high, because this is THE EVENT, finally. And in reality this was the most relaxed I’ve felt in a very long time. And I was almost painfully aware of how I was watching it all with sparkly eyes, hoping that it’s maybe not too obvious because waaaah, embarrassing, it’s not like I’m having the best time ever right now or anything, please.

● However, all of the above definitely had a lot to do with how the audience was at the show, and I was just really surprised by how very awesome the audience's energy was. Like I could imagine it being maybe less enthusiastic after all because uh well, maybe a lot of people actually could be here more for Flood and Birdhouse and all that rather than the actual band… Shouldn’t have underestimated this fanbase, because the audience was so responsive to everything and just made it feel even more like the explosion of joy it really was. And I really felt like I was with *my* people, and, especially when it’s a huge group like this.. that’s very rare and special to me.

● I’ve discovered that in TMBG dimension time isn’t real because I swear, when the first set was coming to a close, I felt like maybe only 20 minutes passed and we’ve only heard maybe 6 songs so far, instead of the actual. 17 songs. 17?? damn, that's a lot of songs. I actually haven’t counted them until now. And it was 33 songs in total, 36 if you add the intros and reversed Stellub, huh!

● You people weren’t lying about the Linnell stare. Actually, related to this, another worry I sort of had before this was that should I end up close to the stage, I might feel too awkward about being possibly perceived by the band in any way to truly enjoy myself. But that actually wasn’t the case at all, not counting like a couple of moments only where I’d make maybe-imaginary, maybe-real eye contact with someone from the band and have to look way fast because noooo, don’t perceive me actually, lol.

● And again, you people weren’t lying either that these guys have unbelievable amounts of energy that make you feel like an old man who can barely stand for a couple hours in comparison. This is coming from a 23-year-old, maybe not the most athletic person in the world, but still. Also, Marty really is the guy of all time, loved watching his antics. And one more special shoutout to the Tricerachops Horns, because yes, these songs I’ve loved for a while already CAN get even better and simply epic and beautiful.

All in all, best show ever! Honestly, I don’t know if any other show could possibly top this. I would be very happy to be proven wrong of course, especially if that were to happen because of another TMBG show. Thank you Johns and everyone else for this evening, it was a dream come true and I’ll never forget how out of this world and amazing it was!!

[vio-lets]

Me evilly convincing people to like various ships through fun fic recs <3 pt 1- tdbk

Okay uhh most of these are going to be for MHA because when the MHA hyperfixation hits, it hits HARD-- but I'm going to rec a handful of fics from HP and Haikyuu, too.

Todobaku - I actually got into this pairing pretty recently! I think mid to late November of last year? So I'm definitely late to the party, but that's okay. It's hard to put into words exactly what I love about this ship, but it really comes down to how well they work together, and how fun their dynamic is!

This may sound crazy, especially if you've read this fic, but the first fic I'm putting in this section is Bakugou and Todoroki's Foolproof 5-Step Plan to Fuck with Mineta Minoru by anubisisms (Teen, Completed, 37k words). To make this clear-- it's not a Todobaku fic, at least not in any romantic capacity. It is, however, the fic that first made me want to look more into the pairing. It's overall a hilarious fic, which you can probably gauge from the title, and has a lot of focus on the companionship between Bakugou and Todoroki. If you don't understand the ship, as I once didn't, and want to start with a platonic fic-- this would be great for you! In general it's just a great fic. I blanket rec most things by this author, though I haven't read everything of theirs. Also,, in this both Todoroki and Bakugou are with different people, but it's not a major part of the story imo. Still resulted in me shipping them lol.

This next one is a bit different from the first, and it's ALSO amazing. The fic I'm talking about is @DynamightsShortcake made a new post by haoboutno89 (Explicit, Completed, 16k words). Premise is basically Pro-Hero Shouto secretly runs a Dynamight fan account on Twitter and things get better from there. I definitely have a thing for Crack Treated Seriously and Social Media fics, and this fic perfectly hits both of those marks! When I first read this I was laughing my ass off. I absolutely adore how this fic is written and it definitely helped solidify my love for these two.

To keep my fics diverse, this next one is a bit more angsty-- but it's sweet, I promise. You and Me (Is All I Need) by lurethegalaxy (Teen, Completed, 8k words), is an Established Todobaku future fic that is Shouto-centric, and it's about Shouto not wanting children. This is a heavily introspective fic and explores Shouto's character really well. The relationship between him and Katsuki in this is amazing, too, so I had to include it here.

For this ship specifically, I've been in love with demon/angel dynamics??? Like. I don't often seek out fics like that, but closer to heaven than you'll ever know by kae_karo (Teen, Completed, 15k words) HOOKED me on the concept, and now I can't ever let it go. This one in particular is really unique because it's about Fallen Angel!Shouto and Risen Demon!Katsuki-- which is just, amazing. Shouto has to basically teach Katsuki how to perform miracles. It's sweet and somber and reading it will give you brainworms for at least 3-5 business days, I promise.

I've decided to make the next few fic recs Angel/Demon type-fics and I promise they're amazing and all you've ever wanted just trust me please. take you (for all that you got) by allmus (Mature, Completed, 15k words) is SUCHH an interesting fic omg. I absolutely adore Katsuki in this. They're stuck in purgatory together and have to work as customer service for heaven and hell. kinda. This one's also Demon!Katsuki/Angel!Shouto-- not quite fallen. But they share food!! And if you enjoy Katsuki yelling at Endeavour.. there's a very amusing scene in this fic where that happens. You should read it, trust me it's amazing c:

Ineffable Partners by LostLoveLetters (Explicit, Completed, 30k words) is like Good Omens-esque? I think? I've never watched Good Omens, but that doesn't matter, this fic is amazing either way. Again, Angel!Shouto and Demon!Katsuki, and they work together in this! Y'know that trope where you're so familiar with each other/banter so much like a couple that strangers say you look good together? Yeah. That happens. And trust me when I say that Shouto practicing human negotiation tactics in this will be one of the funniest things you've ever read. The smut veers sliiiiiiightly into monsterfucking, but not really. Either way, if it's not your thing, you can just skip it, since it's towards the end of the fic. All of it's incredibly well written, though, from the humor to the smut. I've read this fic many times. Again, I got into this pairing in November. That's how good it is.

Okay now Counting Stars by Starisia (Mature, Completed, 16k words) is different in that it's Fallen Angel!Shouto and Demon!Katsuki. Well. Katsuki is also a fallen angel, technically, but you'll read about why in the fic. This fic was amazing. The Hurt/Comfort, the Pining, the everythinggg. It is, like, sad. But in a good way I promise. Another one where Katsuki and Endeavour fight, except physically, now. 10/10 fic it's truly lovely.

I'm done with the Angel/Demon fics for nowww... but like, I have read others. If anyone wants a longer list of those. They're sososo good. Anywho. Next fic! bewitched, bothered, bewildered by dinosuns (Teen, Completed, 10k words), who, by the way, has soo many good fics. In this fic, Shouto is a street magician. He doesn't have magic. He's a little pathetic, but like. In a cute way. Katsuki, on the other hand, does have magic. Shenanigans ensue. Ft. supportive friend Izuku. This fic is soo silly and I'm in love with it. It's adorable and fluffy and perfect for when you need a pick-me-up.

This next fic is so warm and there's really no other way to put it. strawberry candies & colorful notes by waywardfacegarden (Teen, Completed, 6k words) (oh wow another great author!!) is just. Lovely. It's filled with pining, nonsense, and it's a secret admirer trope!!! What could be cuter. Truly. The dialogue between the two in this is.. aa!! Shouto is everything to me. Adored this fic <3

My true love gave to me... by alchemicink (Gen, Completed, 5k words) is SUCH a funny fic omg. Picture Christmas time. Shouto's away. He hears the 12 days of Christmas song and deems it peak romance. Katsuki and Ejirou are also roommates in this and it's all so amazing and funny, and we're a bit past the holidays I know, but like. Read it for winter or something idk. Romance exceeds all holidays.

For my last fic on this list-- though I have read many more, believe me when I say that Todobaku has taken over my brain-- I have to put red hearts, red hearts, that's what i'm on by underfallingflowerpetals (Mature, Completed, 1k words), who, by the way, has an INSANE amount of Todobaku fics that are amazing and no I haven't read them all, but I've read a good chunk. So I mentioned I like crack and social media, and this has aspects of both again. It also does have Omegaverse and Age Difference tags mixed in so if that's not your thing that's fair, but I promise this fic is hilarious. The author's summary is better than anything I could ever come up with, so here:

Their number four is in the middle of the street yelling about knotting omega pussy. This, barring the subject matter, is not that unusual on its own, if not for the fact that the number one is about to hurl a ball of scorching fire at him. Or: Dynamight punches Endeavor on live TV. For love.

and, like. If that doesn't sell you, I don't know what will. Oh! The news reporter in this is hilarious. by the way. That could sell you on it. I loved her.

I guess that's all for now? Feel free to ask for more, I've been dying to talk about these two. I might make more rec lists in the future for them, but I definitely want to make some for a few other ships first.

[ostensiblynone]

THE BOYS ARE BACK IN TOWN

NME Interview by Sylvia Patterson | November 21st 2002

When Liam Gallagher was a lad, he always had chips for school dinner, sometimes with gravy, sometimes with curry sauce. Fifteen years, 36 million albums and several dimensions of extreme human experience later, he's having exactly the same; chips'n'curry, out of a paper bag, on a polystyrene plate, with a plastic fork, perched on the glittering glass-topped table of Aberdeen's poshest, Brigadoon-type hotel. Today's bag was brought to him, yesterday he went to the local chippy himself.

"An' I got mithered by loads of schoolkids," he chirps, "probably thought I was Gareth Gates. I don't get chips'n'curry in London, or gravy, so every time I come up here I just OD on it. Y'want one?"

And such flawless skin, too, 'ladies'. Liam Gallagher, nearly 30, and some won't want to hear this, is actually becoming better looking. Today, without the shades, and with an early night (he could rest easy, apparently, knowing the bar was open until 8am), his eyes are extra colossal, motionless deep blue discs in a white expanse, eyelashes so black there's some in-built miracle-mascara Revlon wand at work. So beautiful, in fact, they're ridiculous.

Noel, meanwhile, 35, wears shades 'cos he feels "like shit", hangover wrecked, but nothing "a cuppa tea an' a kip" won't cure. Nonetheless he, too, is becoming better looking; good hair, sculpted stubble, eyes beneath the shades the brightest, lightest blue. No trace here of the bashed-up face in the crash that could've killed him one month ago in the States.

"You're lying on a bed all smashed up," he muses, a seat next to Liam on a deep-pile sofa, shades off, no chips, "and you think, 'If I was Thom Yorke or Fran Healy, I'd have a box set written about this immediately', but y'see I can't write fookin' songs like that... (Sings) 'Oooh, I was driving down the highway and me face went through the windscreen...' I walked away, what can I say? James Dean didn't. It's not gonna be a big deal in my life. I was more excited about getting a jar of Vicodin; fookin' amazin' man."

So a near-death situation doesn't do a thing to your head?

"Well, 20 miles an hour faster..." he shrugs, "but it wasn't, and I don't dwell on it."

You must have had the fright of your life, Liam.

Noel: "He got fives days off! Loved it!"

Liam: "I was pissed off about it 'cos I was halfway through a big session. And I sobered up dead quick, 'What d'yer mean car crash?!' Naah, it was heavy man and he was lucky but it's over now."

Noel: "I'm more from the Billy Connolly school of philosophy; it was funny, man. I felt sorry for me mam and me daughter an' all that but the worst thing that happened was me favourite sunglasses were smashed to bits and that proper pissed me off; me purple lenses I've had for six years, me Captain Kirks!"

Liam: "He put 'em on after, going, 'This is what I looked like when I got out of the car (mimes comedy broken specs at jaunty angle).' One lens in, one lens out, all bent up."

This year Oasis are, evidently, invincible; new single 'Little By Little' their first true classic for years ("Top lyrics," notes Liam, correctly), second A-side 'She Is Love' unhampered by the fact that the woman it was written about, Sara MacDonald, is no longer Noel's "bird".  "I can detach meself from it," says Noel. "It's the same with all songs, 'she' could mean your car, your guitar, your new pair of trainers." Liam: "Well, that's the way it is now. Heh heh!" Noel: "In America, some idiot wrote that we were gonna ban the single coming out. '(Imaginary phone to ear) Uh, Sony Music? It's Noel from Oasis... me an' me missus have split up so stop the presses an' can we take it off the album?' Fook off!"

Practically five minutes back in Britain, Noel Gallagher - deeply astute culture-watcher - has already surveyed enough TV and tabloids to know exactly where the mainstream is 'at'.

"Have you noticed, now," muses Noel, "if it's not ordinary, fookin' talentless idiots from Tesco with a lisp doing reality TV shows, it's celebrities? Them cunts in the jungle, man... Why don't they put Fawlty Towers back on on a Saturday night? It's hilarious, though: Geri Halliwell going '(Primly) Y'know, I just don't think you've got the X-factor.' What's that all about? I have to say there's no better mental image than Geri Halliwell going through George Michael's dustbins looking for chocolate cake. I've got to sit down and close the fookin' paper an' go, 'Just let me picture that.' Fookin' have a bar of chocolate, man! You weigh about two pound; have a Dairy Milk an' a hazelnut and then a lager an' go to bed; what's up with yer, man? An' if you fookin' put an extra pound on get on the fookin' running machine like the rest of us, fookin' loser. You wouldn't admit to shit like that would yer?!" Liam: "They're all cunts, all of 'em. Actually I don't like this interview already, 'cos everyone's a cunt! Everyone'll be goin', 'Here's them two pair o' bastards comin' again!'" Noel: "Ten minutes in and we're already slagging off bimbos in bins! Why can't we just be like everybody else?"

NME: Lancashire County Cricket Club's ground in Manchester, 50,000 people a night; triumphant homecoming or just another gig? Noel: "Well, they're the biggest we've done since Knebworth [CNS: er, Wembley?!]. We've played to 470,000 people in Britain this year. And there's loads of kids. At Finsbury Park I'm looking out and there was nobody I could see even approaching 30. I was talking to a woman today an' she said, 'Can I have an autograph for me son, he went to your concert last night and it was his first gig, he's been putting off going to a gig until he sees Oasis first.' He came back in tears. Him and his brother - teenagers - at their first gig. Let's hope they go an' start a band." Liam, chips aloft: "That's the main thing."

When you go back to Manchester, does it feel like coming home? Noel: "I love it, me. I go up every Saturday when City are at home, if I'm in England. If I didn't have a daughter that lived in London, I'd move back there. Your mates you grew up with are still exactly the same, still smoking weed, 'Aright?' and they greet you like you've never been on the telly. You walk round the town centre and you think, 'There's actually no paparazzi, no journalists, they don't live 'ere. I could take me pants down, walk up Market Street, naked, with a Nazi hat on; everyone'd be like that, 'Look at that knob'ead.'"

For the aliens beamed down on their holidays, how would you describe the Mancunian attitude? Liam: "Someone who don't give a fuck but actually gives an extremely large fuck. Someone who doesn't care, but really does. More than anyone who apparantly does care." Noel: "Back in the day when the Royalists got as far as Manchester, everyone went, 'Fookin' what king? That bloke in tights? No chance, we'll have a house of common people.' I think we're like Italians. Ever been in a roomful of Mancunians? Whoever's the loudest is right."

Spike Island, Haigh Hall, other northwestern legends; how will these 'cricket' shows compare? Noel: "Well, we're the best live band in the world, bar none, so it's all about the weather. If it stays dry it'll be monumental." Liam: "Spike Island was fookin' shocking. Shite man. But I just wanted to see their heads onstage and get pissed with me mates. Looking back, the music side was rubbish, but the gathering was top." Noel: "I was looking at some footage the other day and I was nearly in tears, man. They looked the bollocks, apart from Mani of course, in his ponytail. Bonehead had a Transit van that was painted in Jackson Pollock-style and they all watched the gig on top of the van. I went with me girlfriend and managed to blag it backstage - first time I'd ever been backstage - boring as fuck, loads of people stood round smokin' weed; we expected naked women handing out 50 pound notes. So we went back out. But anybody who felt cheated by it is missing the point. Same as Knebworth. You were at something monumental which will never be repeated. It's of your time. And you can say to your parents, 'We had the same as you did in the '60's, man.' Wasn't as socially cosmic, but it was the same."

Speaking of socially cosmic, you're playing with Richard 'Mashcroft' again... Liam: "He come round mine, took me driving in his new car. I shit me pants 'cos he'd just passed his test. In this 50 fookin' grand white Elvis motor. He goes, 'We'll take the roof down' and I'm thinkin', 'We're gonna look a right pair of proper cunts driving round London with a roof down in this...naah, put the roof back up!' I love him, man." Noel: "He plays you his stuff and talks all the way through it and goes, 'What d'you think?' And you're like, 'You talked all the way through it, man!' He's (Liam) the same! It's spirit, man! And you can't fake it. You see some of 'em on the telly and you go, 'Yeah, you're saying the right things, you've got the right clothes and the right hairdo but you're a knob'ead an' you know it."

Music is great again, though, allegedly. Liam: "But there's still no rock'n'roll stars. There's loads of bands but there's not one rock'n'roll star. Anywhere." Noel: "I would agree with that. There needs to be a big British band whose first five singles go in at Number One. Do big, huge gigs, 10,000 people a night, or it ain't gonna matter. The Vines and The Strokes an' all that, the music's fine and I like it, but they speak in different accents, they don't have the same reference points. I've never been touched by any American bands. It's the people in the bands who are important and they don't say a fucking thing. That guy from The Vines screams and shouts his head off an' all I know about him is he's addicted to McDonalds'. Great. That's something to believe in, innit? Junk food."

Liverpool and the North have risen again. Or have they? Noel: "It's The Coral and that's it."

The Music? Together: "Roobish." Noel: "Dog shit, man. It's Rock School". Liam: "He sounds like a witch." Noel: "If people like it, fucking brilliant, cool, but it's a fuckin con." Liam: "You can have loads and loads and loads and loads of bands about, an' if there's no personalities then it doesn't mean jack shit. You can have loads and loads of booze on the table, if it's not alcoholic, it's rubbish. You can have a load of cigarettes on the table, but if they don't give you fookin' cancer, they're shit."

Complete the following statement: kids these days... Liam: "...have got it too fooking easy. All sat at home on the internet. Walking around in top clobber at 18 years of age, man; 80 pound trainers and Burberry. All we wore was a fookin' pair of jeans, one coat an' Dunlop Green Flash that cost seven pound."

So it's 'bring on the recession'? Noel: "I don't understand all these pop stars saying, '(Posho's voice) We should have a democratic debate about the war.'" Liam: "I'm not worried about it; you either die or you wake up. Nobody's gonna listen to knob'ead out of Blur or you or me or 'im. No-one even listens to fookin' Bono." Noel: "At least it'll be something decent to watch on the fookin' telly. On the off-chance that whatsisname might have a nuclear weapon, who's to fookin' say if it's a good or bad thing? I tell you what, if it means halfway through fookin' Pop Idol there's a newsflash that says the bomb's gone off and the programme's finished, I'm all for it. 'Gerrin' in there lads', 'cos I've had enough of fookin' idiots runnin' round jungles talkin' about farting. Proper fookin' action, on the telly, nine o'clock, the fall of Baghdad, let's fookin' 'ave it. 'Ave it! I can't be serious about it, my opinion means nothing. The people in the White House can change all this, I play guitar in a band and we're really good, arsed about anything else."

The 21st century, who get's the blame? Noel: "Everything's masked so well, who do you blame? You can't blame anybody. Nobody hates anybody any more. Except me an' 'im, obviously. Everybody's 'alright'. Their music's 'alright'. I'd rather go'n'see a band that were shit. I like people that hate Oasis, I really do, man. People come up to me and say, 'You're shit', and I'm 'Great! At least it's not 'alright'. What d'you mean it's fookin' alright? I'm singing me soul to you and you thought it was alright?!' At least throw eggs. There's no extremes anymore. Even the Tory Party, they're just a bunch of knob'eads; what happened to all the evil people? The Devil's lost his balls, man."

What's the answer, lads? Liam: "We need a new drink. Look at that bar. (Surveys comprehensively stocked poshos' bar) I sat there last night an' looked at it and went, 'I've seen you, done you, don't get on with you, fook you..." The drink should be called C---. A proper c---'s drink. 'Can I have a pint of C---?' 'What were you drinking last night?' 'C---!'"

How do you think this Year of Triumph for Oasis came about? Liam: "'Cos we're really good. For the people who expect you to fall flat on your face, I always knew the fans would be there 'cos we talk the same language. And the album's a good album. It ain't a mega album, it ain't the best album, it's just a great album. And it makes way for the next one."

Noel: "I've got four songs demoed for the next album already. And the stuff he's written sounds mega. We always take this band one album at a time. There'll be one more album definitely. An' then we're out of contract with Sony anyway, so where do we go from there? Who knows? Who knows, 'cos tomorrow you might be in a car crash."

ARTICLE REPRODUCED FROM NME MAGAZINE BY OASISCNS.COM

[astraydestiny]

NEW QUEST UNLOCKED: January Writing Month Challenge

ALLLLLLRIGHTY. ITS TIMEEEEEEEEE!

Time for January Writing Month!

Hey, i’m Kani/Kana! (I alternate between those two names) for those who don’t know me.

What most people don’t know about me, except for my lovely moots, is that I usually have a rotating schedule for my consistent writing (for my own sanity). My last writing month was November, and not it’s january! It’s pretty much like this:

January: Writing Quest

February: XP Farming (Inspo gathering/content consumption)

March: Writing Quest

April: XP Farming

May: Writing Quest

June: XP Farming

July: Writing Quest

August: XP Farming

September: Writing Quest

October: XP Farming

November: Writing Quest

December: XP Farming

Of course, you don’t have to stay within these boundaries, and you can write if you want to on the XP months! But on the Writing Quests, you HAVE to remain consistent to achieve a set goal of whatever amount of words you wish to achieve, by the end of the month,

If you want to participate with me of course, i usually do this, bc i have a BOOK TO FINISH!!!! Books plural actually, both reading and writing… And shows I wanna watch and movies i wanna watch but i just don’t feel motivated to watch them… BUT YK THATS WHY I MADE THIS SYSTEM THAT I’M ONY JUST NOW SHARING WITH THE WORLD!!

It’s very simple, and i’m sure other people pretty much came up with the same thing, just different names and stuff, but i guess the unique thing about it here is that you can get constant updates about my progress throughout the entire thing, and you can also like show ur progress thru reblogging or comment or smth i dunno ITS THE THOUGHT THAT COUNTS!!!

Bc we’re motivating eachother and stuff

SO YEAH

Writing Quests can also be a lot of things, I know I listed one of them in one of the previous paragraphs but I’ll put a list of things you can do right here if ur not writing a book.

Assign a Word count to finish by the end of the month

Weekly Short Stories (1k-2k), written and edited

Analysis’s of Tales you like, and been wanting to do

Asks and requests for your own blogs

IDK PRETTY MUCH ANYTHING THAT INVOLVES WRITING TBH

A Writing Quest should also be fun by the way! So make it as fun as you can, don’t force yourself to write, write about what you like, or even just journal your thoughts! Just as long as you write and grow from the process!

Mmm that should be it. If ur interested then reblog probably idk

BUT YEAH! GL ON EVERYONE WHO SEES THIS AND IS INTERESTING I TRYING IT!

From a fellow writer,

-Kani

(Me rn bec its liek 12:30 on a school night after winter break i needa sleep istg)

[doomednarrative]

A wild Wip Wednesday appears

Thanks to Kellan @heartbreakincident for tagging me in one of these, for once I Actually do have something to show for it ~

So everyone here probably knows that I’ve been Deeply obsessed with Dragon Age since November and that hasn’t let up in the slightest. And as a result of that I have uh. Well let’s say about seven different active wips centered around my Hawke, Merrick, specifically. Because DA2 has my brain in such a tight chokehold and will not let me go.

One of the fica I’ve been working on in pieces as it comes to me is a longer fic about the immediate aftermath of the Arishok fight because c’mon. There’s no way Varric didn’t exaggerate how Hawke won that fight. In my canon it’s a Lot more messy, and one of the reasons Why that is is because everyone finds out post fight that Merrick is a blood mage and has been keeping it under wraps for the last three years. The only person who knew about it was Merrill, and he asked her to keep it a secret, so she did.

The thing I’ve been actually Writing is a conversation between Anders and Merrill after they’ve managed to stabilize Merrick from his life threatening injuries together about how she never told him about the blood magic and how Anders might handle the reality that "oh shit my fuckin partner is a blood mage and I don’t know how to feel about it!"

It's Not a fun conversation for either of them they both hate it very much ♡ but they both love Merrick in their own way so they're putting up with each other for his sake.

Also because it's relevant to this, my friend Anna and I have talked about this fic extensively and the immediate aftermath of that conversation goes a lil something like this because poor fuckin Merrill never gets a break ever:

But yeah. They're all so fucked up after that fight and it's been very fun to write out multiple different companions reactions to the whole blood mage reveal, once this is actually finished it might be the longest thing I've written tbh.

I thinkkk I will tag @lunar-gl1tch , @sha-brytols , @vanilladella , @ghosttcryptids and @romeythehomie in this one. As always only do so if you want to but yall are the writer mutuals who came to mind first ~

[informaltorching]

💝,💙, 👖, and 🧁 for my bday twin… interested to know how he feels about birthdays and how he likes to spend them ^^

💝 - How much effort do they put into appearances? Do they have a favorite article of clothing?

Vesper cares more about his appearance more than he would outwardly admit. He doesn't necessarily care if people find him attractive, but he actually gets some enjoyment out of his clothing. (His appearance is something he actually has some sort of control over...) So, it actually to a degree pisses him off when his gorgeous Lasombra girlfriend becomes the hash-slinging-slasher to his shirts. (Especially because this fucker loses nice clothes to things like feral weapons, swords, bullet holes, and copious amounts of blood way too often.)

And he has this all in mind when making said effort. Vesper got embraced while his hair was in an annoying stage of growth and never knows what to do with it. He also missed a minuscule spot when shaving that day and part of his waking routine is shaving a bit because it drives him fucking crazy.

His staples include combat boots, black tank tops, and some form of fitted tactical pants. Then his favorite thing has to be jackets. Not necessarily just moto leather jackets, he likes aged wax jackets, and on the occasion some field jackets and bombers. Though, his favorite one is a larger, aged leather jacket with some, not too many, cone spikes on the shoulders.

💙 - Describe their bedroom! Is it personalized, unchanged? Messy, neat?

Vesper lives with Amare. He could have his own place if he really gave a shit, but why bother when you're mutually blood bonded to someone and will definitely not see the repercussions of that. Nope. Nothing bad ever happens.

So, the bedroom is mostly to her tastes ( I don't wanna write too much about what her tastes are, but @swoomoo can fill you in if you are curious) with touches of him, ever so slightly. As Vesper is both the most neat and meticulous person you ever met and the messiest at the same time. He is a workaholic. When he was alive, if he had even a moment of downtime, he obsessively cleaned and organized. But you can tell when he is busy. He isn't like a slob...more so just scattered, clear indicators of someone whose brain is in constant overdrive. Hastily written notes, piles of books and materials... and he is never the one who makes the bed.

👖 - Coffee shop or high school AU, your choice: tell me their role.

I mean, probably coffee shop as I prefer to write him as a grown adult lol. However, easily in high school AU he is the jock stoner guy that has a tendency to keep to himself.

I don't know shit about coffee shop AUs. I always find that stuff a bit boring. I think Vesper's role would be man who clearly wants to be left alone and sits in the corner on his laptop to work in silence with earbuds in. He orders green tea, not coffee.

🧁 - When is their birthday? How do they celebrate it, if at all?

November 21st, 1990!

He hates celebrating his birthday. He never tells anyone when it is. Most of his birthdays growing up were lonely and pathetic. His father constantly forgot it, but he didn't feel the need to remind him when it was. He kind of gave up on his birthday long before he was embraced. But he doesn't like attention drawn onto him and doesn't really want to think about being an emotionally abandoned teenager.

[gnawing-suspicion]

The Advent of Ardor: Post-Mortem/Epiphany

So! I meant to do this in the short days after my 12 days of Hannigram fic wrapped up, but then, y'know. Life! Here are some additional thoughts, and more on the thematic gifts and meals for each day. There are many spoilers ahoy.

I had the idea for a 12 days of Christmas fic in November, because I'd bitten off way more than I could chew trying to do Kinktober in my first year writing. 12 days seemed more reasonable, especially when I discovered that the 12 days actually start ON Christmas, and it became even more doable. So I went and did it.

I had planned from the beginning for each of the 12 gifts to reflect the number of the day, in some ways obvious and others more abstract. The gifts were:

A single book on Scandinavian woodworking (which also shows up in another fic of mine, a fictionalized nod to Mads' Danish heritage and also that my friend is obsessed with a book she has on Scandinavian woodworking)

A pair of cufflinks - the classic, simple sterling silver wrapped around wood felt so right for the two of them. You get it.

Triple-casked whisky (I wanted some of his earlier gifts to feel obvious, as if Hannibal intentionally is throwing him off the scent of how much thought he put into them)

A four-aging knife. I know. I hated myself for that one, too.

A pair of gloves. Will's comment about how it would've better suited the tenth day, on account of the five fingers x two, was me realizing that after I'd already written it. It felt suitable - Hannibal had noticed Will's hands were getting cold. He wouldn't want to wait five days. Maybe he'd had another gift planned originally and bumped up the gloves for practicality's sake. Also, glove kink had featured prominently in my first Hannigram fic Who Will I Be Tonight, and it felt right. In my head, Will Graham canonically has a thing for leather gloves.

A six-pack of New Orleans' classic beer Abita. I've never tried it. I'd like to.

A song. This one, I was giddy to get to. There are seven notes on a traditional musical scale. Of course Hannibal would have a secret baroque music room at his Canadian safehouse.

A chess set. I was cheating the 8 of it a bit, but a chess board is 8x8 squares, combined to make 64. Listen. 8 was tricky to do without it just being a pun on ate.

This one came to me as I was falling asleep and I said "oh, shut up" out loud to myself. I knew I wanted to incorporate Dante's Inferno and the nine circles of hell, but how? I considered some sort of woodcut print or early edition of the book, but Will already had a book and Hannibal would never repeat himself. Then, I considered how that particular interpretation of Hell has frozen over, and it all came together. Fun fact that I kept waiting for someone to notice but I'm impatient: all the names of the circles of hell are hidden within the text of the chapter. Find them all!

For the life of me, I could not think of something for 10. Probably because I'd messed up with the gloves and my brain was stuck on it. So I went for a classic - Will's fly-tying. What an utterly twisted gift.

What comes in elevens? Nothing. I had to resort to googling and when I discovered that the Canadian maple leaf has 11 points, it all came together in a snap. The coin toss wrote itself.

The dozen roses I knew before I started writing. Disgustingly romantic. How would you get a dozen roses in January in the Canadian wilderness? The answer is magic, because Hannibal is the devil.

Some inspirations for the gifts in question:

And then, there's the foods. I, somehow, hadn't even considered also theming them to the 12 days of Christmas. Then, after the 3rd day had already been posted, I started goofing on the idea with a friend and she laid out, in like 20 minutes, perfectly appropriate recipes for each day. I went back and edited, and then continued with them. I tried to make some of them subtle, so Will's late realization wasn't TOO embarrassing. I mean, it took him 'til season 2 to figure out Hannibal was the Chesapeake Ripper. There's some leeway with his observational skills. ANYWAY.

Partridge in a Pear Tree: Poached pears. Simple enough.

Turtle doves: Squab! Usually a baby pigeon, but sometimes a dove or chicken. Bit of a stretch, but the other option was Turtles chocolates and that felt a bit beneath Hannibal.

French Hens: Croque Madame! A twist on the classic French Croque Monsieur, with the difference being an egg on top. This one I came up with, and I was rather pleased with myself.

Calling Birds: Lotta birds up top in this song. Real bird-heavy, so we got creative - four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie became blackberry pie.

Golden Rings: He made onion rings. My friend said I could do better than that but I liked it too much. So stupid.

Geese A-Laying: Foie gras, which was especially funny because I had already written a joke about Hannibal not wanting to overwhelm Will with foie gras too soon in an early chapter.

Swans A-Swimming: I'll give it to my friend on this, she's a genius. She suggested Pavlova, a meringue dish named after Russian ballerina Anna Pavlova. Ballet = Swan Lake. A stretch, but one Hannibal would surely delight in making.

Maids A-Milking: Here, Will finally puts it together. I'm lactose intolerant, this chapter was a horror story for me. Hannibal makes Panna Cotta, a sweet cream custard. 8 kinds of dairy in one day. I'd rather a knife to the gut.

Ladies Dancing: Tiramisu, which is made with cookies/biscuits traditionally known as Lady Fingers.

Lords A-Leaping: Frog's legs. I had a lot of ideas for this one, but then frog's legs came up and they went in the trash.

Pipers Piping: Eclairs, a piped pastry. Someone commented that this was an appropriately filthy dish to follow their consummation, and though I hadn't intended it, I absolutely agree. Perverts.

Drummers Drumming: This one was pretty straightforward, but my friend came up with the giant raviolo and asparagus drumsticks. Obviously, chicken drumsticks were considered, but raviolo felt so much more Hannibal.

I think that's all. I'm sure this is of interest to maybe one person, but I wanted to write it down for posterity.

Thanks for reading!! xoxo.

[denimbex1986]

'David Tennant and Cush Jumbo walk into the Donmar Warehouse’s offices, above the theatre’s rehearsal rooms in Covent Garden, and sit down on a sofa, side by side. Tennant has that look his many fans will instantly be able to call to mind of being at once stressed – with a desperado gleam in his eye – yet mischievously engaged, which has to do with the intelligence he applies to everything, the niceness he directs at everyone. He is wearing a mustard-coloured jersey and could be mistaken for someone who has been swotting in a library (actually, he has been rehearsing a fight scene). If I am right in supposing him to be tense at this mid-rehearsals moment, I know – from having interviewed him before – that it is not his way to put himself first, that he will crack on and probably, while he’s at it, crack a joke or two to keep us all in good spirits. But some degree of tension is understandable for he and Jumbo are about to perform in a play that explores stress like no other – Macbeth – and must unriddle one of the most dramatic marriages in all of Shakespeare’s plays.

This is star billing of the starriest kind. Tennant, at 52, has more triumphs under his belt than you’d think possible in a single career (including Doctor Who, Broadchurch’s detective, the serial killer Dennis Nilsen in Des, and the father in There She Goes). Jumbo has been seen on US prime time in The Good Wife and The Good Fight and in ITV’s Vera. But what counts is that each is a Shakespeare virtuoso. Jumbo, who is now 38, won an Ian Charleson award in 2012 for her Rosalind in As You Like It and, in 2013, was nominated for an Olivier for her Mark Antony in Phyllida Lloyd’s all-female Julius Caesar. More recently, she starred as a yearningly embattled Hamlet at the Young Vic. A dynamo of an actor, she is described by the former New York Times theatre critic Ben Brantley as radiating “that unquantifiable force of hunger, drive, talent usually called star power”. Tennant, meanwhile, who has played Romeo, Lysander and Benedick for the RSC, went on to embody Hamlet and Richard II in performances that have become the stuff of legend.

Jumbo settles herself cross-legged on the sofa, relaxed in her own body, wearing a white T-shirt, dusky pink tracksuit bottoms, and modestly-sized gold hoop earrings. She looks as if she has come from an exercise class – and she has in one sense – no need to ask whether rehearsals, at this stage, are full-on. As we shake hello, she apologises for a hot hand and I for a cold one, having just come in from a sharp November morning. She is chirpy, friendly, waiting expectantly for questions – but what strikes me as I look at her is how her face in repose, at once dramatic and pensive, gives almost nothing away, like a page waiting to be written on.

Max Webster, the director, is setting the play in the modern day and Macbeth, a taut and ageless thriller, is especially friendly to this approach. I want to plunge straight in to cross-question the Macbeths. Supposing I were a marriage counsellor, what might they tell me – in confidence – about their alliance? Tennant is a step ahead: “There are two versions of the marriage, aren’t there? The one at the beginning and the fractured marriage later.” And he then makes me laugh by asking intently: “Are they sharing the murder with their therapist?”

He suggests Macbeth’s “reliance” on his wife is unusual and “not necessarily to be expected in medieval Scotland” (another excuse for the contemporary production): “I look to my wife for guidance: I don’t make a decision without her,” he explains. “We’ve been through some trauma which has induced an even stronger bond.” Jumbo agrees about the bond and spells out the trauma, reminding us the Macbeths have lost a child, but hesitates to play the game (I have suggested she talk about Lady Macbeth in the first person): “I want to get it right. I don’t want to get it wrong. I don’t know what to say… If I improv Lady Macbeth, it will feel disrespectful because you don’t know if what you’re saying on her behalf is true. And then you’re going to write what I say down and she [Lady Macbeth] is going to be: ‘Thanks, Cush, for f-ing talking about me that way.’” She emphasises that, as an actor, you must never judge your character, whatever crime they might have committed. And perhaps her resistance to straying from the text is partly as a writer herself (it was her play, Josephine and I, about the entertainer and activist Josephine Baker, that put her career into fast forward, opening off Broadway in 2015).

She stresses that the great problem with Lady Macbeth is that she has become a known quantity: “She is deeply ingrained in our culture. Everyone thinks they know who she is. Most people studied the play at school. I did – I hated it. It was so boring but that’s because Shakespeare’s plays aren’t meant to be read, they’re meant to be acted. People think they know Lady Macbeth as a type – the strong, controlling woman who pushed him to do it. She does things women shouldn’t do. The greatest misconception is that we have stopped seeing Lady Macbeth as a human being.”

For Tennant, too, keeping an open mind is essential: “What I’m finding most difficult is the variety of options. I thought I knew this play very well and that it was, unlike any other Shakespeare I can remember rehearsing, straightforward. But each time I come to a scene, it goes in a direction I wasn’t expecting.” He suggests that momentum is the play’s great asset: “It has such muscle to it, it powers along. Plot-wise, it’s more front-footed than any Shakespeare play I’ve done.” And is it ever difficult for him as Macbeth to subdue his instinctive comic talent? “Well, yes, that’s right, there are no gags! But actually, there are a couple of funny bits though I’d never intentionally inflict comedy on something that can’t take it. I hope I’m creating a rounded human being with moments of lightness, even in the bleakest times.” Jumbo adds: “Bleakness is funny at times”, and Tennant, quick as a flash, tops this: “Look at our government!” (He is an outspoken Labour supporter.) Later, when I ask what makes them angriest, he says: “Well, she [Suella Braverman]’s just been sacked so… I’m now slightly less angry than I was.” Jumbo nods agreement, adding that what makes her angriest is “unkindness”.

It is Tennant who then produces, with a flourish, the key question about the Macbeths: “Why do they decide to commit a crime? What is the fatal flaw that allows them to think that’s OK? I don’t know that they, as characters, would even know. Has the loss of a child destabilised their morality?” In preparation, Tennant and Jumbo have been researching post-traumatic stress disorder. “PTSD is a modern way of understanding something that’s always been there,” suggests Tennant – and the Macbeths are traumatised three times over by battle, bereavement and murder. “We’ve looked at postpartum psychosis as well,” Jumbo adds. They have been amazed at how the findings of modern experts “track within the play”. Tennant marvels aloud: “What can Shakespeare’s own research process have been?” Jumbo reminds him that Shakespeare, like the Macbeths, lost a child. She relishes the play’s “contemporary vibe which means it’s something my 14-year-old niece will want to see. Even though you know the ending, you don’t want it to go there. It’s exciting to play that as well as to watch it.”

A further exciting challenge is the show’s use of binaural technology (Gareth Fry, who worked on Complicité’s The Encounter, is sound designer). Each audience member will be given a set of headphones and be able to eavesdrop on the Macbeths. “The technology will mess with your neurons in a did-somebody-just-breathe-on-me way,” Jumbo explains. “You’ll feel as if you’re in a conversation with us, like listening to a podcast you love where you feel you’re sat with them having coffee.” Tennant adds: “What’s thrilling is that it makes things more naturalistic – we’re able to speak conversationally.”

Fast forward to opening night: how do they manage their time just before going on stage? Tennant says: “I dearly wish I had a set of failsafe strategies. I don’t find it straightforward. I’ve never been able to banish anxiety. It can be very problematic and part of the job is dealing with it. I squirrel myself away and tend to get quite quiet.” But at the Donmar, this will be tricky as backstage space is shared. Jumbo encourages him: “When I’ve played here before, I found the group dynamic helpful,” she says, but explains that her pre-show routine has changed since her career took off and she became a mother: “These days, I no longer have the luxury of saying: I’m going to do five hours of yoga before I go on. When I leave home at four in the afternoon, I might be thinking about whether I’ll hit traffic or, whether my kid’s stuff is ready for the next day. You get better at this, the more you do it. The main thing – which doesn’t sound that sexy – is to make sure to eat at the right time, something light, like soup, because when I’m nervous I get loads of acid and that does not make me feel good on stage. I have a cut-off point for eating and that timing has become a superstition in its own way.”

In 2020, Tennant and Jumbo co-starred in the compulsively watchable and disturbing Scottish mini-series Deadwater Fell for C4. How helpful is it to have worked together before? Tennant says it is “hugely” valuable when tackling something “intense and difficult” to be with someone you are “comfortable taking chances with”. Although actors cannot depend on this luxury: “Sometimes, you have to turn up the first day and go: ‘Ah, hello, nice to meet you, we’re going to be playing psychopathic Mr and Mrs Macbeth.’” And Jumbo adds: “I’ve been asked to do this play before and said no. You have to do it with the right person. I knew this would be fun because David is a laugh as well as being very hard-working.” He responds brightly with a non sequitur: “Wait till you see my knees in a kilt…” Are you seriously going to wear a kilt, I ask. “You’ll have to wait and see,” he laughs.

It is perhaps the kilt that triggers his next observation: “We’re an entirely Scottish company, apart from Cush,” he volunteers, suggesting that Macbeth’s choice of a non-Scottish wife brings new energy to the drama. He grew up in Paisley, the son of a Presbyterian minister, and remembers how, in his childhood, “whenever an English person arrived, you’d go “Oooh… from another worrrrld!”, and he reflects: “Someone from somewhere else gives you different energy.” And while on the Scottish theme, it is worth adding that Macbeth is the part that seems patiently to have been waiting for Tennant: “People keep saying: you must have done this play before? I don’t know if Italian Shakespeareans keep being asked if they have played Romeo…”

I tell them I remember puzzling, as a schoolgirl, over Macbeth’s line about “vaulting ambition, which o’erleaps itself and falls on th’other” – the gymnastic detail beyond me. Tennant suggests that what Macbeth has, more even than ambition, is hubris. But on ambition, he and Jumbo reveal themselves to be two of a kind. Tennant says: “Ambition is not a word I’d have understood as a child but I had an ambition to become an actor from tiny – from pre-school. I did not veer off from it, I was very focused. When I look at it now, that was wildly ambitious because there were no precedents or reasons for me to believe I could.”

“For me, same,” says Jumbo, “I don’t remember ever wanting to be anything else.” She grew up in south London, second of six children. Her father is Nigerian and was a stay-at-home dad, her mother is British and worked as a psychiatric nurse. “At four, I was an avid reader and mimicker. I got into lots of trouble at school for mimicking. My ambition was similar to David’s although, as a girl, the word ‘ambition’ has always been a bit dirty…” Tennant: “It certainly is to a Scottish Presbyterian.” “Yes,” she laughs, “perhaps I should have said Celts and Blacks… Girls grow up thinking they should be modest, right? But I had so much ambition. I knew there was more for me to do and that I could be good at doing it.”

And what were they like as teenagers – as, say, 14-year-olds? Tennant says: “Uncomfortable, plooky…” What’s plooky, Jumbo and I exclaim in unison. “A Scottish word for covered in spots.” “That’s great!” laughs Jumbo. “Unstylish,” Tennant concludes. Her turn: “At 14, I was sassy, a bit mouthy, trying to get into a lot of clubs and not succeeding because I looked way too young for my age. And desperate for a snog.”

And now, as grownups, Tennant and Jumbo are, above all, keenly aware of what it means to be a parent. Jumbo has a son, Maximilian (born 2018); Tennant five children between the ages of four and 21. Parenthood, they believe, helps shape the work they do. “Being a parent magnifies the job of being an actor,” says Jumbo, “because what we’re being asked to do [as actors] is to stay playful and in the present – be big children. As a parent, you get to relive your childhood and see the world through your child’s eyes as if for the first time and more intensely. We don’t do that much as adults.”

Tennant reckons being a parent has given him “empathy, patience – or the requirement for patience – and tiredness. It gives you a big open wound you carry around, a vulnerability that is not a bad thing for this job because it means you have an emotional accessibility that can be very trying but which we need.” But the work-life balance remains, for Tennant, an ongoing struggle: “Just when you think you’ve figured it out, something happens,” he says, “and you have to recalibrate it because your children need different things at different times.” Jumbo sometimes looks to other actors/parents for advice: “To try to see what they are doing – but you never quite get it right.”

And would they agree there is a work-life balance involved in acting itself? Is acting an escape from self or a way of going deeper into themselves? Tennant says: “I don’t think the two are mutually exclusive though they sound as though they should be – I think it is both.” Jumbo agrees: “On the surface, you’re consciously stepping away from yourself but, actually, subconsciously, you have to do things instinctually so you find out more about yourself without meaning to.”

And when they go deeper, what is it that they find? Fear is another of the motors in Macbeth – what is fear for them? “Something being wrong with one of my kids,” Tennant says and Jumbo concurs. And what about fear for our planet? Tennant says: “There is so much to feel fearful and pessimistic about it can be…” Jumbo finishes his sentence: “Overwhelming.” He picks it up again: “So overwhelming that you don’t do anything.” Jumbo worries about this, tries to remind herself that doing something is better than doing nothing: “If everybody did something small in their corner of the world, the knock-on effect would be bigger.” Tennant admits to feeling “anxiety” and distinguishes it from fear. Jumbo volunteers: “I recognise fear in myself but don’t see it as a helpful emotion. It’s underactive, a place to stand still.”

As actors who have hit the jackpot, what would they say, aside from talent, has been essential to their success? Tennant says: “Luck – to be in the right place at the right time, having one job that leads to another.” Jumbo remembers: “Early in my career, I had a slow start. You have to fill your soul with creative things, which is not always easy if you can’t afford to go out. You have to find things that are free, get together with people who are creative and give you good vibes and not people who are bitter and jealous or have lots of bad things to say about the world. This tends to bring more creative things to you.” Tennant observes: “As the creative arts go, acting is a difficult one to do on your own – if you’re a painter, you can paint – even if no one is buying your paintings.” Jumbo chips in: “Because of that, it can be quite lonely when it’s not happening.” “Tennant concludes: “It’s bloody unfair – there are far too many good actors, too many of us.”

And are they in any way like the Macbeths in being partly governed by magical thinking – or do they see themselves as rationalists? (I neglect to ask whether they call Macbeth “the Scottish play”, as many actors superstitiously do.) “I am a rationalist. I’m almost aggressively anti-nonsense,” Tennant says. Jumbo, unfazed by this manifestation of reason, speaks up brightly: “I’m a magical thinker, I’m half Nigerian and that’s all about magical realism and belief in energy. If something goes my way, I think: God, I felt that energy. And the thing that drew me to theatre as a kid was its magic.” And now Tennant, alerted by the word “magic”, starts to clamber on board to agree with her – and Jumbo laughs as they acknowledge the power of what she has just said.'

[hillbillyoracle]

What Made My Life Better in 2023

One of the things I'm thinking about a lot as I get ready for 2024 is what actually made an impact for me in the last year. It was interesting to think through because it was neither what I expected nor what I had always heard would help me. Instead it was often small changes that stacked into something much more helpful and interesting when put together.

I wanted to share them in case it's helpful for anyone else.

#1 - Adaptive Cleaning

While I still use elements of other cleaning systems, the base of what I do is firmly rooted in Sarah McGlory's Adaptive Cleaning ideas. I started implementing it about halfway through the year in earnest, though I stumbled upon it a year or two ago, and it's made a huge difference. This is the cleanest my space has ever been and the fewest flares I've ever had and I genuinely do credit her ideas for being a big reason for that.

#2 - My Care Kit

About halfway through the year I also threw together this care kit that I keep by my bed. It has everything I need to do my skincare, brush my teeth, and do my makeup - all without leaving my bed. While I've felt embarrassed at just how much it's done for me, I think it's a great example of "do what works." I just don't like get up once I've sat down for the evening. And it's easier to get up if I already have all that stuff done. Not only have I kept up with skincare and other habits probably the best out of any point in my life, but the mood and self esteem boost it gives me has allowed me to do more of what I want in other areas too.

#3 - 750 Words

I start using 750 Words on a whim. I had liked doing morning pages but could never really keep up with them, especially on days when I was really struggling with my hands. I wound up really taking to it and have only missed a few days since I started in November. I wound up paying for a year of it because I'm that certain of it's benefit. I've written way more for my zines, my mental health is a little better, and it serves as an anchor habit for several others. I love the simplicity of it. I can usually crank out my freewrite for the day in about 10 minutes - I like 10 minutes being my new minimum versus the zero it was.

#4 - Laundry Day

This might seem obvious or silly to you but as someone who has tried a lot of cleaning routines, I was so used to the a load a day rule that I never questioned it. That is until I read Dana K. White's book How To Manage Your Home Without Losing Your Mind. She talks about her laundry system and it just completely changed my perspective. Laundry day has given me so much of my time back and I more regularly do more of our laundry. I'm sure other people were aware this was an option but I guess I needed someone to tell me.

#5 - Connecting with a Sangha

I'd been putting off connecting with a Sangha for a while. I knew I wasn't going to be in a place to go in person (I'm about an hour and a half any moderate sized city) and only meeting online felt like a pale imitation. But I was wrong. I got connected with the Furnace Mountain Zen Center based here in Kentucky and started attending more of their weekday meditation sessions and at home day retreats as I was able. It really deepened my practice and has remained a touchstone to return back to when I got through times life pulls me away. I wish I would have done it sooner. If you're Buddhist leaning in any way, I really recommend finding a Sangha - even if it's online.

I hope this sparks some ideas for other people. None of the "productivity" stuff I tried this year "worked" in the sense of sticking or allowing me to do more. The closest was probably pomodoros on a visual timer, which are genuinely helpful. But mostly it was acts of nurturance, curiosity, and care that really elevated my life this year.

May 2024 be even better!

[magicalyaku]

Hehe, while writing this, it's still 2024 where I live, so I'm still on time. After the excellent reading month of October, I decided to go back to a book I started in September and didn't finish. Turns out I didn't finish this time either. So next to three anticipated reads and two spontaneous picks is my only DNF of the year!

Fallen Thorns (Harvey Oliver Baxter): I started this on a 12-hour-flight and continued to slog my way through it the next two weeks in October and then another week in November and then I realized I still had about 100 pages left - and I just couldn't do it. I just did not care one ounce about the characters. It's so slow and tedious and while I think the writing and pacing is fitting for the protagonist's personality, I guess we just don't match. I didn't hate this book the way I loathe Saint Sinner Sorrow (which I read in September), mind you, there's levels between, I was just bored and there were passages written in a way I just didn't understand (like the one when the leader of the group puts down two captives and suddenly there's a monster. But where did it come from and why was is just one and not two and why was is written that way?) and other passages (from the 'other's' pov) that I just felt exhausted by. It's a real shame, though, because it's another book with an aroace main character this year that I didn't like. /D That being said, I do want to encourage you to take a look for yourself if you're interested in vampires, found family, some sinister conspiracy and a character grappling with his lack of attraction.

Don't let the Forest in (C.G. Drews): Well, this was wild. In a good and also a disturbing way. Andrew is so not okay (honestly, why did they ever let him go back without therapy or a councillor?). It's an interesting book and makes you want to know what's going on/how they deal with it in the end and if it's real or just some hallucination. Just that at some point, it was very obvious where the monsters came from and I wanted to shake the boys for not drawing the last conclusion. (There were still things I didn't anticipate.) It was still good and the writing with all its forest-related imagery is pretty. Fun fact: The cover illustrator went to art school with my best friend and they still talk once in while. When I told my friend about the books I wanted to read, she was like "Oh, I think Jana did the cover!" and I was like "Oh, that's fitting. This one has monsters!" (Because she's always been drawing creepy shit). Even if I only know her second-hand, I'm always proud when a fellow German artist is actually being successful. :D

Nox Winters and the Midnight Wolf (Rochelle Hassan): Another forest-book with more pretty forest-similes. It's a solid adventure story with good character growth. Nox is fun, because he is so grumpy (which I can relate to so much). Compared to the author's other middle grade book I probably like that one more, just because the twist of that one is good, but Nox is also pretty good and I enjoyed reading it. Thinking back to it, all I see is dark forest and stars and I like that.

Fall for Him (Andie Burke): Hmm, I was looking forward to reading this and then I almost forgot to add it the list of books I read. :'D I think it was good? Like very down to earth with money problems, work, nosy neighbors. A story that's probably easy to relate to. There's a bit of on and off between the characters while they sort themselves out, but ultimately everything does get sorted out. Yeah, it was good. Just for the love of cats, don't use names for your characters that spell so similarly. Even if the characters looks are different, I can't see them! I only see the written characters on the page and both start with D and have 5 letters in 2 syllables (Derek and Dylan) and that was actually really hard for me. For half of the book, everytime one of them spoke I had to take a moment to ensure which one it is. (Maybe that's also why it's so difficult for me to remember what happenend in this book. I'm trying hard here.)

They hate each other (Amanda Woody): I was sick again and thought, it'd be the right time for another audiobook from the library. Just that I really didn't want another adult romance with adult scenes. /D I was reluctant to pick this up, because the summary sounds incredibly shallow. They start fake dating to show their friends that they don't fit. Woah. Ugh. I wanted something easy to read, though, being sick and all, so I went along with it. The thing is, the summary is a blatant lie of omission. Because half of the book isn't even about the dating thing but about the family issues of the one guy. His mother is dead, his father an alcoholic and he has to care of his younger sisters, earning the money, next to keeping up in school. It doesn't go well and he is on the point of breaking. And then his estranged aunt starts poking her nose in. It's really tough, actually, and mean at times. Like when the aunt asks the (not so fake anymore) boyfriend to provide her with information when he doesn't really know her intentions and has to decide if he is ready to lose his boyfriend's trust forever over it. I liked that the book has an actual story that is not at all shallow but I still felt betrayed. xD

Fake Dates and Moon Cakes (Sher Lee): I picked this one up, because I read the author's second book Legend of the White Snake a little earlier and still needed something light, this time for traveling not being sick. But after the betrayal of They Hate Each Other, I ended up reading this a week before the actual travel. :'D What I didn't realize at first is, that it's another fake dating story with a rich guy. xD This one was fun, though. It did exactly what it promised and I really liked it. The author's shtick for giving a lot of background facts is in here as well, like about the Chinese calendar and the food. It's sweet, the protagonist is not an idiot and family is important. Fun fact: This is the third book with a Dylan in a row. Yes. And remember Fall for Him with Derek and Dylan? In here, there's a random girl approaching the protagonist Dylan and can't remember his name and asks "What was your name? Derek?" Not surprisingly I laughed out loudly. I'm not the only one mixing them up!

That's it for all the backlog!! (Finally!) As of writing this, I still have about 80 pages left of my last book of the year, so I'll get back to that. Happy new year!

[seafoamreadings]

week of november 12th, 2023

these are written predominantly for the *rising* signs but they are also intuitively "channeled" enough that they should work for any dominant energy you have! (try your sun if you don't know rising, or more advanced readers can try moon, anywhere you have a stellium, etc and see what works best for you!)

aries: strong mars and scorpio at present give you a power it is so easy to tap into that it's sometimes also easy to not even notice it's there, or that you have been using it. take it easy on people who are struggling a little more than you these days and if you feel like you're struggling too, put a little extra effort into thinking of all the things that are easy - even if you have to start with stuff like "breathing" or "heart beating"

taurus: the week begins with a new moon in your house of committed partnerships, which also rules over your open enemies. set intentions around where your energy is focused. do those enemies deserve your time and attention? or would you rather direct it at love or at responsibility? maybe you can find a good way to split it, but remember it's not an infinite resource.

gemini: expect (or be the cause of!) productive, candid discussions in relationships or with other types of partners. don't leave things unsaid. even painful outcomes will be for the best this way.

cancerians: your homework, your actual spiritual duty, this week, is to get out there and have fun, whatever that means for you. actually you can stay in and have fun too if you prefer that, but you'd better be enjoying the time. even if a background sadness or frustration tugs at you as you go, find pleasure in as many moments as you can.

leo: big stubborn vibes all week chafe at you. but you're stubborn too, you know? so lighten up and loosen up and let things move around a bit. you will probably like them better wherever they settle than in whatever position you're currently forcefully holding them.

virgo: yet again your commitments, especially in terms of relationships, are called into focus. the astrology is supportive, so if things are good they get better. if things are not good, they feel better for now, but problems are likely to fester, so find them and fix them, and dispose of what you know you can't keep.

libra: in general you're a very relationship-oriented sign but it pays this week, literally, to focus more on your money and resources. all kinds of resources, not just financial ones. likely all of it leads you to much greater prosperity.

scorpio: the new moon in your sign is a great time for self-improvement endeavors, glowups, and anything that puts you in the spotlight of some important attention. set your intentions accordingly.

sagittarius: this week's vibe is both stubborn and shifting. know which way to lean in each given situation rather than choosing a side and sticking to it. authenticity is the best policy, which involves most likely a straightforward yet compassionate honesty.

capricorn: by and large if you get the urge to socialize a bit this week, you should act on it! but be advised that the astrology all week is a bit volatile, so you should proceed with caution out there. still, caution doesn't mean stifling the divine spark of will within you.

aquarius: strong uranian activity does suit you and yet the chaos at play at this time can be unpleasantly shocking or even dangerous. this can range from surprises in the personal life to literally electrical dangers; take care to be safe.

pisces: benevolent neptune aspects abound but they occur alongside volatility to a high degree. focus on what you are making, not what you have. but don't necessarily make yourself too vulnerable to any pitfalls either.