#i like band !!! band is cool !!!! however my former high school had a great band

[krash-8]

ok so I get the schools football team is great and you can afford to spend thousands of dollars on signs that glow when they play and shit but can you go back to not charging kids for pads. or at least stocking the dispensers that do

[lovesuhng]

Inseparable Friend - Johnny Suh

couple: ex-best friend johnny x fem!reader gênero: angst; fluff; friends to strangers to lovers wc: 2.9k summary: johnny was your best friend and platonic love during his high school days, but he left without even saying goodbye. 10 years later, you meet again at the class of 2013 reunion. do you still feel the same way about your former best friend? how about giving him another chance? a/n: i wrote this plot on twitter because i saw some beautiful photos of johnny (which are these photos) and i promised a friend that i would write it. the main is a mcfly fan (like me), so if you don't know the band, give them the opportunity!

Your cell phone was shining, you knew it was Doyoung asking if you were ready for the class of 2013 reunion. All you wanted most was to stay at home, in your bed, watching any nonsense on the internet, but you promised him you would go to this reunion. It wasn't like you had any enemies or hated your senior year at school, you just didn't feel like leaving home, besides the fact that they would definitely ask about your “inseparable friend”, who you hadn't had contact with in years. 

As soon as you arrived at the place where the reunion would take place, you soon saw Doyoung, accompanied by his girlfriend Sejeong, talking to Jaehyun, his former high school classmate and best friend of your “inseparable friend”. After talking to a few people, you finally managed to get to where your friends were.

“I thought you wouldn’t come.” Sejeong asked, seeing that her friend wasn't very excited to go.

“I actually considered not coming, my bed was much more inviting, but you have a boyfriend who disturbed me the whole time.” You gave an almost deadly look to Doyoung, who shrugged. “Hi Jaehyun! Long time no see!” You smiled kindly at him, he returned it and seemed happy to see you.

“It’s true, how many years have we last seen each other? About eight?”

“Yes, I think the last time we saw each other was at a college party.”

The conversation between you was flowing naturally, as much as you wouldn't admit it to Doyoung, you were having fun remembering some funny things that had happened in high school. For some reason, you felt that Jaehyun avoided talking about his best friend so as not to cause some kind of discomfort in you, but it was okay, since this was something you had already overcome a long time ago.

Or maybe not.

You couldn't quite explain what you were feeling when you looked at the entrance to the place and saw him there. John Suh, or rather Johnny. Also known as your “inseparable friend” from high school, as well as being your first love. Time had certainly been kind to him. Johnny was always popular and handsome, but now, it was a crime. He was a little taller and definitely went to the gym often, he wore a simple white blouse, a leather jacket, jeans and a white all-star. The hair was a little longer. For you, that was the definition of a perfect man. Noticing that he was coming in the direction where you were, you quickly looked away to Doyoung, who was just as surprised as you and just whispered “I had no idea he was coming.”

To explain better, Johnny and you were inseparable since elementary school, you grew up together. You two went to your first parties together, you shared secrets, the small achievements of the time, like your first kiss and you were by your side at all times. As a consequence of being a super cool, funny guy and his popularity being great due to the fact that he was one of the most popular players on the school's volleyball team, Johnny was attracting people's attention, especially girls who saw themselves in love with him, as well as You fell in love with him too. However, you didn't have time to talk about your feelings to him, because on the day of the prom, the day chosen for your confession, Johnny didn't show up, he didn't give any explanation, he didn't say goodbye. He just moved far away to fulfill his dream of attending his much-desired photography university. You cried for nights, tried to understand what had happened, you knew that Johnny hated goodbyes, but you weren't just anyone, you were his best friend forever and you didn't even know about your approval on the course of your dreams.

You were trying to deal with this absence that hurt so much in your chest, the subject of Johnny Suh was still very sensitive, almost everyone knew that. You thought that someone would bring up the subject, but you didn't expect that the “subject” would appear in front of you, greeting each one, with that smile that kept you awake at the same time as it warmed your heart, until he looked at you. For a few seconds, which seemed like an eternity, it seemed like nothing had changed. And that's what Johnny thought too. You were no longer that little girl he had left behind. You were a woman, a beautiful woman. He remembered all the special moments he had spent with you, the many times you ate pepperoni pizza on the floor of your room, played uno, walked in the park near the school and he insisted on taking photos of you that he never were shown.

“Hi” Was all he could say, breaking that exchange of glances.

“Long time, John. Nice to see you." You were trying to be as polite and strong as possible, but you wanted to run to your room and cry.

The night went by, you tried to distract yourself by talking to your friends and old schoolmates, but it was difficult to ignore Johnny when you felt his gaze at times. You were already tired, you thought you stayed there long enough and told Sejeong that you were going home, she even offered to go with you, but you refused. You said goodbye to everyone, went towards your car that was in the parking lot and when you were about to open the door you heard that voice that, even after years, you recognized so well calling your name.

“Hi John.” You said as you turned around and saw him nearby. "Something happened?"

“No, it’s… I… wanted to know how you are. We didn’t talk today.” Johnny said, putting his hands in his jeans pocket. You knew he was nervous, but why? Wasn't he the one who left you without saying goodbye? This was no time for these thoughts and questions.

“Ah, I'm fine, just a little tired from work. If you don't mind, I'm on my way now. Goodnight"

“But…” He again stopped you from getting in the car and leaving. “I would like to know if we can go out one day, I really want to talk to you” For the thousandth time that night, you looked into the honey-colored eyes that you once liked so much. You saw the truth in Johnny's eyes and words, who was anxiously waiting for your answer. "I do not want to talk! You had the chance to explain yourself for 10 years and you did nothing.” That's what you wanted to answer at that moment.

"Okay." It was the only word that came out of his mouth. You exchanged cell phone numbers and you could see that Johnny had a goofy smile on his face, but you couldn't let that fool you.

“I'll send you a message so we can schedule everything correctly, okay? It was great to meet you again. I missed you."

Watching Johnny say goodbye, you were sure of one thing:

Johnny Suh still made you feel like a silly teenager in love with your best friend.

That same day, Johnny had sent you a message, which was followed by several others daily. You couldn't deny that Johnny was trying hard to earn your friendship and trust once again. He asked you about your work, your new hobbies, if you had heard from friends at school, in short, he wanted to know what had happened during those years. You also couldn't deny that you were enjoying the attention you were receiving from him.

But something still bothered you: Johnny never talked about his life and why he left without saying goodbye. You wanted to ask, you felt like he owed you an explanation, but you were still afraid to bring up the subject, after all, you didn't want to pressure him.

It was Friday night, after a long week of work, you were home. you had just taken a hot shower and were looking at your phone while eating something. Johnny had sent a few messages, including an invitation to have coffee the next day, he said he wanted to talk to you, as well as see you.

And there he was, in front of the agreed cafe, waiting for you. Johnny was pacing back and forth visibly nervous, constantly looking at his watch, why had he decided to arrive so early? He only stopped when he saw you walking towards him, wearing a dress that went to your heels and white converse. He could have sworn you were an angel who had come to get him. You didn't want to look nervous seeing Johnny again, especially when he was wearing a white tank top with a striped shirt over it, looser jeans and a cap, which only left the ends of his long hair showing. Once again, Johnny was the personification of your 'ideal type', but you would do everything you could to not show that. The man welcomed you with a beautiful smile, followed by a 'you look so beautiful' that left you completely blushing, then you chose what you would drink. Johnny was surprised when you didn't choose a latte, preferring an ice coffee, from what he remembered, you hated black coffee, so you explained to him that you had changed some habits for health reasons. After a few moments of talking, you finally said:

“What did you want to talk about?” Your voice revealed that you were nervous when asking this question, no matter how much you expected what Johnny was going to say.

“I think you must be curious that I went to the other side of the world without saying goodbye.” You just nodded. “And I also think you deserve an explanation. I was just scared.” Your face showed that you were confused by that. “Many things went through my head when I received the news that I had been approved to study at the university I always wanted. In addition to happiness, I was insecure, afraid of everything going wrong and disappointing my parents, of being away from the people I love and especially you. You know I hate saying goodbye to people...”

“But I wasn’t just anyone, John.” Hearing you call his name, Johnny knew you were upset and serious. “We were best friends, we shared everything. You disappeared on our graduation day, you left me without caring how I was feeling. If you had said you were going far away, of course I would have been sad, but I would understand that it was for the best, but disappearing without even saying goodbye broke my heart. Your explanation doesn’t make any sense.”

“There’s one more thing.” You encouraged him to continue. Then, he took one of her hands that was on the table and began to caress it. “I ‘ran away’ because I was also trying to run away from my feelings because… I was falling in love with you.”

You didn't know what you were feeling at that moment. It was a mix of disbelief and relief, anger and joy. You wanted to throw yourself into Johnny’s arms and run away from him at the same time. So, does this mean that your teenage love was reciprocated?

“I know you will hate me for this, but if I were to lose you, it would be because of distance and not because of my unrequited feelings.”

“You know that doesn’t make any sense, right?” You let out an indignant laugh at that and separated your hand from Johnny's. “I was also in love with you. That graduation night, I was going to tell you and that's why I was so sad. I loved you Johnny, very much. As angry as I was at the time, I'm not anymore. We are no longer the same teenagers, we are adults and we are learning to deal with our feelings.” At that moment, Johnny realized that you had become a wonderful woman, that you were moving away from the insecure teenager of your school days and her confession took him by surprise.

“So, will you forgive me for all the shit I did?”

“Dude, you show up 10 years later, admitting all your mistakes, apologizing and on top of that looking so fucking hot, of course I forgive you.”

Johnny's laugh echoed through the cafe and you finally felt like you had healed from a wound that had been open for years.

At the beginning of the evening, Johnny made a point of accompanying you to your apartment on a walk full of stories and memories of old times.

“Good, we’re here.”

“I confess that I was so nervous for our date today, but it was very pleasant. Thank you very much for this wonderful afternoon.”

“So this was a date?” Johnny said raising one of his eyebrows and in a tone that made you blush a lot. He had this habit of flirting with you since you were teenagers.

“Ah, it wasn’t much of a date… but you understood what I meant, so stop making jokes!” Once again the man laughed and when he saw that you were about to say goodbye, he interrupted you saying:

“Could you give me a hug before you go?”

You just stood on your tiptoes, put your hands on his shoulders and pulled him into a hug, you felt his hands grab your waist, lifting you off the ground. Her little screams in the middle of laughter made Johnny laugh too. When Johnny put you back on the ground, he slowly moved away until your faces were very close. Johnny's intense gaze, his eyes covering every part of his (no longer ex) best friend's face as if he wanted to decorate that new version of him. Then your gaze fell on his lips and Johnny took it as a sign. It was just a long peck, but it was enough to move his entire body and Johnny's heart. That was proof that he was not only willing to be your friend, but to be something more.

“Can you tell I’m still in love with you?” He said as soon as you separated.

“I think so” You let out a small laugh, still holding hands with him. “Johnny, I know you’re not asking me for anything right now, but let’s take it easy? You came back recently and, as much as I loved that kiss, I wanted some time to get to know more about adult Johnny.”

Johnny gently caressed your cheek, which automatically made you close your eyes, as you missed his touches, now with another meaning. “I will give you as much time as you need. I waited 10 years and I don’t mind waiting a little longer.”

And you wouldn't imagine how determined Johnny was to win you over. He called you almost every day just to hear your voice, whenever possible he would pick you up from work, he loved watching movies just to cling to you, he called you for some dates that you loved, ranging from having ice cream on the corner to in go to the most expensive record store in town. You loved every moment you spent with him and you loved even more the fact that he was respecting your space.

Another Friday had arrived, you had sent a message to Johnny asking to come to your apartment because, in addition to wanting to see him, you were upset about not being able to get a ticket to the concert of your favorite teenage band, McFLY, and you wanted do something to distract yourself. Johnny was already in his apartment, you were lying on the couch, drinking wine that he had brought and he noticed how upset you were, he knew that this band was very important to you, besides being their first show in years.

“If I had known you were going to be this sad, I wouldn’t have even come.”

“Ah Johnny, understand me, it’s McFLY! They were very important in forming my fan personality, you know that.”

“I know, so I won’t let you be sad about it.” Then, he took an envelope out of his jacket and handed it to you. You didn't understand what was happening, as it always is when you're with Johnny, but you jumped up from the couch when you opened the envelope: they were two tickets to the show you wanted so much.

"But how? Tickets sold out in minutes!”

“Let's say I have a photographer friend who will work on the show and he owed me a favor” Johnny said with a shrug, as if it were the easiest thing in the world, you were about to give him a hug, when he stopped you. “I know you’re really excited about the tickets, but could you take a look at the ticket inside?”

So that's when you got the second and biggest surprise of the night:

“You once told me that you had the dream of going to a McFLY concert and living the cliché of dancing and singing ‘All About You’ with your boyfriend. You already have the ticket.

Can I be your boyfriend?”

The man in front of him was nervous, but he was smiling, calmly waiting for his answer.

“There is no better person to be my boyfriend. Of course you can." It was then that Johnny hugged you with all the strength he had and kissed you, as he always wanted, full of a love saved for so many years.

They say love is patient, it happens at the right time. Maybe it wasn't meant to be at that time, but I knew that now it was right to give Johnny that opportunity, that no one would make you happier in this world than your inseparable friend.

[mementoboni]

[part 1/3] Kaoru no Dokugen - Chapter 0: The person I admire

"It was the first time I had ever felt a sound like that, and the songs were just intense but easy to hum and listen to. I wasn't able to make such an analysis at the time, but I felt that I had come across something extraordinary."

Notes before reading:

This chapter is from Kaoru’s first book “Dokugen" released on October 2015. It is placed after Chapter 35 (the last chapter), not part of "Ongaku to Hito" magazine. You can purchase the book 👉 here.

The title is written in Kanji as "憧人" (Akogareru Hito), which means "The person I admire". (Actually, I'm not sure if this is how it's pronounced 😅)

I first translated this chapter into Traditional Chinese in 2021, but later I found that there was no English version, so I decided to translate it again into English.

The translation is divided into three parts (I didn't expect it to be so long in English…). This is the first part. 👉 part 2. & part 3.

In this part, Kaoru talks about how he got to know the music of X JAPAN (it was called "X" back then), and how much he loved HIDE that he started playing guitar and wanted to form a band.

Repost and share are welcome.🙌 This is the first time I have translated so much words into English, so please feel free to correct me if you spot any mistake or any confusing parts.☺️

Chapter 0: The person I admire

All right, now it's time to write about this. As the title says, it's about someone I've admired for a long, loooooooooooong time.

He is the guitarist of the band, which I first knew in middle school. I've written before, the first time I heard of them was recommended by a classmate, who was really into noise music.* At that time, I honestly did not accept the intense sound I had never heard before at all. However, there were a few songs on the album that I liked, and I had those songs dubbed onto tape and listened to them over and over again.

After that, the band's debut album was released on April 21, a few days after I entered high school. Somehow I ordered the band album that was totally unacceptable when I first heard it and bought it on my way home from school.

As I wrote before, I still vividly remember the first time I heard that album. I went home, sat in front of the radio cassette without taking off my uniform, opened the CD, held the booklet in my hand, and within minutes after I pressed the play button—the word "shock" could not be used to describe what I felt. Then, for about an hour, I fell into a feeling I had never felt before and I couldn't sit still. I wanted to tell someone how I felt as soon as possible. Despite these thoughts, I couldn't leave the album behind and ran out, but stayed home and listened to it over and over again from that day on.

Intense and beautiful.

It was the first time I had ever felt a sound like that, and the songs were just intense but easy to hum and listen to. I wasn't able to make such an analysis at the time, but I felt that I had come across something extraordinary. The visuals, which had only been seen as people in bizarre outfits, even came to seem super cool because of the great songs after I heard the sound, making me want to go to the live concert.

After looking up the magazine, I found out that they were having a live show in Osaka a few days later. The tickets were sold out, but I still wanted to go to the venue. I wanted to feel the atmosphere even a little bit, so I headed to the venue with all my money (5,000 yen). The venue was the former Osaka Kosei Nenkin Kaikan medium hall. There was a park in front of the venue, and I was nervous because there were a lot of people dressed in rocking styles, but not necessarily in cosplay. There were also many people selling scalped tickets, which were highly sought after. Since it was impossible to get a ticket, I went to the stalls that were selling goods. As the time for the show was approaching, the crowd around me was gradually dispersing. I saw some people putting their ears against the wall to listen to the sound leak, so I thought I'd give it a try when the show started, but I found someone who gave me a ticket and I ended up watching the live show!

That live was……………of course, X's live. Of course, the guitarist I saw there was HIDE-san. Seeing HIDE-san at this live changed my life.

To be honest, I thought X were monsters when I first saw them. Especially HIDE-san looked like an alien, not a person from this world.

After watching such a live show, I started searching for magazines with X on them. Even when I was at school, I wanted to go home early and listen to X's songs. I got deeper and deeper into them, wanting to listen to them all the time, wanting to touch X all the time.

Then, I really wanted a Mockingbird, the same guitar HIDE-san had, so I saved up my pocket money and New Year's money, and then went to a music store in Shinsaibashi Amemura, Osaka. I went to this music store because I had read in a magazine that they had Mockingbird guitars there, but in fact they did not, and I was told to make a reservation. I still wanted one, so I ordered it on the spot, but after that I didn't hear from them for a while. Six months later, when I thought maybe it had been forgotten, the shipment finally arrived and I got the Mockingbird. I was so happy that I kept touching it.

From there, I watched X's live performance in Kansai many times, and I also went to the Tokyo Dome live several times. I recorded all the TV shows with X on them; through the help of my friends, I also found and got videos of TV shows outside of Kansai. HIDE-san didn’t look like an alien on TV, he was kind of cute.

I never thought I'd be so addicted to them. There was nothing in my eyes but X and HIDE-san.

At that time, I heard that if you wrote a letter to HIDE-san and sent it with a return postcard, you would receive a reply, so I started writing immediately and sent the letter. I wrote about how I started playing the guitar after seeing HIDE-san, and that I wanted to form a band someday. Then, what a surprise! A reply came back!!!!!!!!!

(To be continued…)

Words from the translator:

When I first listened to X JAPAN's music, my feelings were similar to what Kaoru described. At the same time, I love HIDE as much as Kaoru does, even though I'm born in a world without HIDE.💗

*About the classmate who recommended noise music to Kaoru, you can read Chapter 2 of Dokugen. Here are two translations by different translators:

Chapter 2: “The transfer student who introduced me to the noisy music” by @thepriceofbeingaroseisloneliness

Chapter II. A classmate who introduced me to “noise” music by @elenalester

------

part 2. & part 3. & 中文翻譯

[donutloverxo]

A Royal scandal 4

Modern royalty au

Image from Instagram

cowritten with @lizzygal​

Note - There will be no taglists for this. You can subscribe to the  ao3 story to receive updates!

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

Summary - Modern ruler, His Majesty King Steven G Rogers, is on a quest to make his long term secret relationship the real thing. He is a man in love and wants his lover and partner to be his queen.

Warnings - Smut (m/f), dub con/non con, sex tape, scandals, mentions of past domestic abuse, soft dark Steve, possessive Steve, spanking, power imbalance, mentions of previous domestic abuse, somnophilia, talks of virginity.

Pairing - King!Steve x reader

Word count - 7.8k

Story masterlist

Valkyrie, or simply Val, watched the entire thing unfold before her eyes and was helpless to stop any of it. All of it. All she could do was watch. Much like one would watch a train accident happen before their very eyes.

She had tried. In truth she had.

However, Sarah was the Queen Mother and Val was a member of the Royal Guard.

There was little she could do.

“Your Majesty,” she purred one last time, in one last attempt to save a situation that she knew deep in her heart was not going to go well at all. “Perhaps you would prefer to go inside and I’ll bring them into the reception area?”

Everything was wrong. So very wrong.

Outside the palace was normally empty.

As it was located in the center of the capital. An old historic building from imperial days that covered numerous city blocks, was where the government was run and where King Steven resided. Press knew better than to hang around outside the imposing palace gates as the king never left out them and was uninterested in opportunities to have his picture taken. As did the Queen Mother.

And yet, that morning, a whole gaggle of photographers were lined up and waiting for the visiting royals. Or so they had shared with Val.

Her Grace, Hope van Dyne, never went anywhere without getting her picture taken. In Val’s opinion, she probably had the phone number to every tabloid office in the world.

Sarah’s voice was kind. Soft. Gentle. It made Val want to wrap her queen up in a blanket and make her go inside so she could deal with their unwelcome guests. She stood beside Val at the top of the steps of the palace, provided with a great view of the black sedan that had pulled in through the gates. The flashiest possible way to enter the palace instead of through the underground garage like everyone else.

“Oh no. That’s hardly necessary. They wanted a scene. Let us give them one.”

Not liking the sounds of that at all, her brown eyes flickered over to look at the slim woman with a head of artfully styled strawberry blonde curls, a button nose and rose petal lips. She was every bit as regal as her title, even if she had not a drop of royal blood in her body.

“You can’t think that they actually called the press to say that the Duchess Hope was the woman with His Majesty on the video from the royal banya?”

Sarah’s cool blue gaze flickered to her royal bodyguard before returning back to the sedan so she could observe her former friend climb out, followed by her raven-haired daughter who waved to the photographers on the other side of the iron gates.

That was exactly what Sarah suspected the second she’d seen it in the morning paper. Though she doubted she would ever find out who had started that rumor.

“Have you found out why they’re here?”

Grimacing, Valkyrie shook her head, unhappy to not have an answer for her queen beneath the cloudy chilly winter day. “Not yet Your Majesty. We have reached out to the Maharaja’s Staff and are waiting to hear back. Soon though we suspect.”

Any second now Val hoped her phone would ring so she could tell the queen.

Which led to Sarah turning her head to look away from her guests as they climbed the stairs. She looked away from the large fountain that the sleek luxury car was parked beside and gave her last true smile for what she suspected would be till lunch. Reaching out, she placed her hand on Valkyrie’s wrist. One of her preferred bodyguards. She’d been loyal and had on two occasions nearly given her life in service of her country. “I trust you will find out and inform me as soon as possible. Do not fret. I doubt they will be leaving anytime in the near future.”

Only a lifetime of service kept Val from cracking a smile.

Instead, her dark eyes watched the silver haired Queen of the Netherlands climb the steps towards them. Smiling. Dressed expensively with a heavy coat made from numerous small furry animals.

Queen Janet van Dyne approached as if it hadn’t been years. She came to stand beside Sarah and greet her in such a way that would make for a perfect picture. Or so Sarah noticed. She greeted her as if they were still friends who spoke frequently on the phone and still sent one another gifts. As if their children had married and everything was fine.

“Sarah! How wonderful to see you, you have not aged a day.”

Janet reached out with gloved hands trimmed in mink, leaned forward to place a polite kiss on Sarah’s cheek in greeting and was more than a little surprised when Sarah stepped away. Her own hands remaining clasped in front of her and out of Janet’s. Greeting or otherwise.

“Janet,” was all that came from Sarah’s mouth. A look went from Janet’s coat down to her dress and then shoes, pausing there before coming back up. “Is that the dress you wore to Lizzie’s grandson’s wedding?”

Surprised by the greeting, or lack thereof, Janet paused and then smiled brightly, knowing that though the cameras could not hear them they could capture this image on film. “Yes. We’re focusing on becoming sustainable out in the west. Going green isn’t merely a project meant as royal busywork.”

Sarah could actually feel Valkyrie stiffen beside her at mention of the Green Initiative that Steve had tasked her with and had been far from busywork. It was something that Sarah could go on and on about, one of her many efforts that she busied herself with and yet, she found she didn’t want to expend that much energy on her once friend.

Hands still in front of her, fingers laced together where she could feel her wedding band. Sarah tilted her head slightly to the side. “I wouldn’t know. We remain a governing monarchy here.”

Janet blanched. Her lips formed a straight line, nearly as straight as the way her spine stiffened.

Though Sarah was unable to enjoy it as she turned her attention to the daughter. Hope van Dyne. Formerly Princess Hope but now Duchess Hope, after having been stripped of her title and recently reinstated to a lesser one, in Sarah’s opinion anyway.

Hope looked lovely as ever.

Tanned. Dressed exceptionally well. Smiling exuberantly.

It almost warmed Sarah’s icy heart.

“Sarah! How are you? You look wonderful!” Exclaimed Hope, sounding genuinely thrilled to see the woman who might have been her mother-in-law had things gone differently. She stepped on up with outstretched arms and was greeted with a serene face that looked at her in confusion.

Sarah said nothing. Not a word. Sarah maintained eye contact and looked at Hope as if waiting for the younger woman to say or do something.

Thus leading to Hope blinking in confusion and lowering her arms, looking to her mother for assistance as this clearly was not the welcome she expected.

“Is something wrong,” Hope asked a bit nervously as a winter breeze ruffled the fur on her mother’s coat. Sneaking under the cashmere of her own, as she hadn’t had time to properly shop for winter here. This was her mother’s idea. It was her last hope. Her father had refused to hear her and not even her mother could plead her case this time. This was it.

“I was about to ask you the same.”

Val watched Hope’s confusion and fought hard to not say anything at all, and it was becoming painful to watch in her opinion. Her gaze veered over to all the photographers that were watching more than taking pictures. Even they seemed to realize this visit was not starting off smoothly.

“I’m-I’m sorry?”

Val risked a look over at her queen. Her queen who was peering at the young woman who had referred to Val’s people as ‘war criminals’ or ‘superstitious backwoods fools.’

Unable to take another moment of it, Valkyrie cleared her throat.

Finally making Sarah take mercy on Hope who really should have known better in her opinion. “In civilized societies, a duchess would curtsey to a queen. Perhaps things are different for those who are merely ceremonial in purpose.”

***

Someone called your name and for a second, you were terrified that Wanda had come for your ass.

Not that you could blame the best friend you’d had since high school.

Upon heading into the offices of the royal palace that morning, you had intentionally avoided her , secure in the knowledge that she was pissed at you and you really did not want to have the fight you knew was coming someplace public like the office.

So, you’d been groveling via text and promising to go out with her that night for a girls night, swearing on your honor that you would tell her everything! Because Wanda was no fool.

Wanda saw the new dress you had on. Wanda saw your new shoes. Wanda noticed your perfect makeup and styled hair. Wanda also brought up the facts that you’d not been home that night or early morning, as well as the crucial one regarding your flatiron that was still in the bathroom the two of you shared.

Needless to say, you had a lot of explaining to do.

There was no getting around it. You were going to have to tell her about Steve. Sure, you’d swear her to secrecy until everything came out. The palace had made its announcement this morning about King Steven being in a relationship that he would make public soon. A second public statement had come from the Palace PR Guru, Maria Hill, stating that without a doubt, the king was not involved with Duchess Hope after a few rumors had burnt their way through the palace and news cycles.

Besides, Wanda should know. Wanda deserved to know. You and Wanda had come on this adventure post university together. Wanda had to know before it came out in the form of an official palace announcement, or else Wanda might very well skin you alive.

Hearing your name on a female tongue had you snapping up, your attention diverted away from the emails you were checking.

Wanda?

No.

It was not Wanda.

It was an Indian woman in a well-tailored pantsuit. Her dark hair was swept up in a chignon. Her lips a shade of red that had you lowkey thinking about asking for the name and shade of said lipstick. Her dark eyes bore right through you. As if spearing you from your chair and to the wall of your office.

“You are the King’s Chief of Staff?”

While your natural first instinct was to report that was what it said on your door. Professional-you put the kibosh on that right away. Inner you was somewhat intimidated by this powerful woman who looked as if she knew your every last secret.

Head held high this woman so informed you in a tone that let you know she was here for nothing less. “The Maharaja has sent us. Duchess Hope of the Netherlands has stolen from us and is here with the intention of pleading political asylum. While the Maharaja would like nothing more than to have her brought back for trial of the theft of our priceless treasures. I will settle for what was taken and no less.”

Ok. Well. Maybe you thought too soon.

Maybe Wanda was preferrable over this person.

“Oh…goody…” came from your lips with a frown.

“General Odinson sent me here. He told me that you would be able to help resolve this issue for me post haste.”

Oh of course General Fucking Thor Odinson would send this person your way so he didn’t have to deal with this international nightmare of an incident.

Letting out a deep breath, you held up a finger. “Let me just send this out real quick…what’s your name?” And you typed as quickly as humanly possible on your encrypted laptop.

“Ekta. I am with the Maharaja’s Royal Guard.”

Because of course she was. Why wouldn’t she be? Why wouldn’t Hope have stolen from the Maharaja and bounced? Though you’d never had the pleasure of meeting her face to face, you’d heard more than your share about the infamous Duchess, then Princess, Hope.

Typing. Typing. Typing.

“You’ve got any pictures or detailed descriptions of what the items stolen look like? I’m sure His Majesty will be very curious. And, you know, the more information of what we’re looking for the better.”

And done.

With a tap on your laptop, you’d sent out an email to the Finance Minister. Then up you stood.

“Of course,” Ekta answered coolly.

Not that you blamed her. If you were in her shoes, you would have been super pissed off too. Being robbed was never fun.

“Let’s go see if we can track down His Majesty. If not, we’ll make an appointment with his secretary and then go see who is in the office of our Royal Guard. Someone is always in there and I know that Carol, she’s Captain of the Guard, is working right now.” You explained, as if you felt that telling this unhappy woman all these things could somehow make everything right. Probably not. But you still had to try. It was in your nature to fix problems and you most definitely wanted to fix this problem.

Ekta said nothing.

She merely followed you out of your office and into the hallway which was lined with doors and walls of tasteful and probably expensive original art.

You looked to the left.

Then to the right and nearly died then and there at your luck.

How had you gotten so lucky?

There, mere feet away and closing, was not just Carol but His Majesty, deep in discussion about something that was irritating them both.

You had an inkling that you knew what was at the heart of their discussion.

The sight of you made them stop talking and pause in their tracks, which told you that you had been the one that they were seeking.

Before anything could be done, you bowed. “Your Majesty, just the person I was hoping to find.” Up you flourished your hand to gesture at Ekta, who you could feel was beside you, practically putting off rays of righteousness. “We have a visitor from the Maharaja’s Royal Guard. This is Ekta. She is here because of something that concerns the Duchess Hope.”

The reaction that came was almost immediate from both Steve and Carol.

A look as if Steve had suddenly smelled a dead animal came over his face. Carol however cocked her hip to the side, lifted her chin in a dark blue pantsuit, almost demanding in a knowing sort of way. “What’d she steal from you guys? Art or jewelry?”

For the first time ever, you noted a moment of Ekta’s veneer breaking. Like she was taken off balance. “The duchess stole from you too?” Then, almost as an afterthought came, “Your Majesty?”

And this was news to you too.

You had no idea that Hope had taken souvenirs with her that weren’t free to take when she fled the Royal Palace for India all those years ago.

When Steve spoke, his teeth were clearly clenched together. “Yes. Both. She raided my mother’s room as well as the halls for art and pieces that are priceless. Sacred treasures from my countries history that can never be replaced. She filled her suitcase with on her way out.”

“Every now and then an item will appear on the black market. We can only assume that she is selling them when she is in need of money.” Carol helpfully added.

Beside you, you could practically feel Ekta tremble. Shake out of control one could say.

“Is the Duchess Hope here?”

For that you had no answer.

Carol however had one. “Yes. Her Majesty is taking tea out in the gardens with the Duchess Hope and her own mother.”

After being brought abreast of that development, you had a statement to make. One you thought was obvious. But none-the-less, out it came. Maybe none of them knew? “It’s snowing outside.”

Thus leading Steve to turn his attention on you. Finally. And when he did so, he looked at you as if you were only his Chief of Staff. He looked at you kindly without the heat in his eyes from earlier that morning, when he’d woken you up by pushing himself deep into your body until the both of you reached a climax that made your eyes cross and left an impression of his teeth broken into your shoulder.

“Yes. Mother wanted to be sure that the Duchess Hope did not steal anything else from within the palace walls whilst they are here.”

Well then.

Even you had to admit. The Queen Mother could be downright frosty when the occasion called for it. Pun intended.

“She’s having tea with Queen Janet and Duchess Hope outside? In the frigid temperatures?”

You couldn’t quite make yourself believe it. You blinked. You looked from Steve who appeared casual after his statement, like he just told you the winters here were cold. Over to Carol who was pulling out her phone from her pocket. Acting like you hadn’t said anything out of the normal.

“Your Majesty, I’ll take care of Ekta and deal with this issue. If anything arrives concerning this issue. I will contact you. Nakia will come fill my place today.”

If Steve was greatly upset by any of his, he made no outward indication of it other than a nod of his head that he both heard and understood and accepted what Carol had told him. His attention was instead focused on you.

“I have a meeting concerning the Switzerland trip about the proposed embassy. Go get your notes. You’ll be joining me.”

***

Her Grace, the Duchess Hope van Dyne, had finally made it in the palace after that psycho, the Queen Mother Sarah, had the audacity to serve tea in the garden as flakes of snow drifted down. And if that weren’t barbaric enough, afterwards, she then led them around the winter garden as if Hope gave a damn.

Hope had problems and Queen Sarah was not very receptive to any of her attempts to thaw the ice that had formed around Sarah’s heart. Nor did her mother, Janet, have much luck.

When did Sarah turn into such a bitch?

Sarah should have been ecstatic that Hope would even return to this shithole. Sarah’s son was still single, he needed a queen and his backwoods hovel wanted a queen and Hope had royal blood. What more did Sarah need? Did she need it written down?

When did Sarah turn into such a horrible host?

Hope remembered a distinctively different Sarah. When she had lived in this palace, Steve’s mother had coddled her, practically waited on her hand and foot to be sure that Hope was happy and settling in so far from civilization. Where was that Sarah now?

Somehow, Hope had managed to break away, pleading a need to use the powder room around the time her toes and fingers went numb. As she hadn’t had the time to properly shop for clothes to wear in this frigid shithole. India had been so gloriously warm. She’d loved India. Hope would have loved to stay there but things had gone south.

Eventually, like everything else, it’d blow over.

Until then though, she needed someplace safe to stay. She needed to stay somewhere that the Maharaja couldn’t get her. What she needed was diplomatic immunity. However, that wasn’t going to happen since her father refused to even see her, so she’d just have to settle for sovereign immunity. Granted, Hope hadn’t expected it to be this difficult to see Steven and tell him that she was ready to get married now. For crying out loud, he should have been groveling at her feet for her to come back to him. Especially after that sex tape which had been burning up the internet and royal circles. If there was anything that Hope could do, it was bounce back from a scandal.

This was just ridiculous.

The Queen Mother should have been inviting them to this lunch with her son, instead of practically throwing Hope and Janet out. Which was exactly why Hope was wandering the halls in the search for Steven’s office. Toes tingling in her fashionable pumps. Her fingers burning from the warm air in the administrative offices.

Hope would need a whole new wardrobe once she got Steven onboard with her plan. As his current plan of ignoring the sex tape was absurd. These things needed to be tackled head on. With her as his queen by his side, Hope could handle all of it.

Ah, she found herself pleased at the sight of the royal seal over a doorway marking it as the king’s office.

Valkyrie followed her closely. That bitch.

As soon as Hope was queen, she’d be one of the first on the firing block. Following her around like some manner of commoner who might fill their pockets with royal gold. It was absurd. Hope was born a princess and one day she would become one again.

Hope remembered Valkyrie from when she was a young member of the guard and now, she was a Captain and just as irreprehensible as Carol, who Hope also despised. Both of them had to go. Reaching out with a hand that held a ring belonging to the sister of the Maharaja, Hope opened the door and marched right into the office of Steven’s secretary. Who was apparently gone for lunch.

Not that the room was empty.

Nakia, who had been seated on a couch in the office, stood. Dressed in a dark blue suit that all the royal guard wore. Her face stony at the sight of Hope and then darkened further in disgust. She stood tall. Regally. Holding her head high when she spoke down to the former princess. “The king is busy.”

Not that Hope would settle for anything less than seeing Steven in person immediately. She stepped forward. “The king is having lunch with his mother in fifteen minutes. I know for a fact he’s not doing anything of importance. Get out of my way, or I’ll have you selling souvenirs from a cart outside the palace when I am queen.”

At such a statement, Nakia found herself wanting to both laugh and spit in the face of this western woman. One who had referred to her people and country as little more than a backwoods hellhole full of illiterate stone pounders.

How often Nakia had dreamt of being so close to the Duchess Hope, how she thought of ripping out this woman’s forked tongue.

“Let her in,” came Valkyrie’s voice in their native tongue from the eastern regions of the land.

Sending Nakia’s dark eyes past Hope. A knowing expression claimed her features. “His Majesty is in there waiting for our queen.”

A shrug came from the senior guardswoman.

Nakia would be the first to admit, she had not been hopeful when the crown prince had been coronated as a teenager. No one in the country had been particularly hopeful but now, nearly everyone supported their king. His Majesty was a good king who served them all as much as they served him.

Nakia was protective of her king. She wanted her king to marry his Chief of Staff yesterday. Her land was in need of a queen, a woman’s touch one could say.

Knowing what was at stake with the coming lunch that her king would attend with his mother and lover, a visit from the Duchess Hope would not put him in the best of moods. The Queen Mother always grew quiet when King Steven was in such a mood. Why would Nakia allow such a thing to happen?

“Perhaps if he tells her she isn’t wanted here she’ll leave sooner? Let her in. That is an order.”

Pursing her lips unhappily, Nakia stepped back.

She wasn’t about to open the door to His Majesty’s office for this interloper. However, she would no longer stand in the way. Nakia even made sure to send a look that screamed impending homicidal violence. Spurring Hope quickly through the door without another syllable directed at Nakia.

Which was fine with Hope.

Hope couldn’t get away from Nakia quick enough.

Wanting distance sent Hope into the king’s large office without much thought. Looking as if it belonged in an old Victorian estate with dark wood, so many books, old art and thick dark Turkish Rugs.

What Hope did not expect was how much the prince had grown.

No longer a gangly young man whose mother had to have padding sewn into the robes that he was coronated in. This man sitting at his desk was big in every way. Exuding power in a manner that most could only dream and for a second, seeing Steven look at her with shocking blue eyes and stubble darkening his face, she was rendered speechless.

“What do you want Hope,” came Steven’s voice, more than a little annoyed. Far more emotion than she’d ever seen from the young man. Who was now very obviously a man.

This was not the Steven she remembered.

Before her was not the young man she remembered at all. Every last bit of him was very much a king and Hope suddenly, possibly for the first time in her life, found herself regretting many of the past choices she made. It seemed her mother was right. She’d been far too hasty in her youth. Her mother had told her that the prince would mature like a fine wine. Hope had written that off as nonsense meant to trap her into an arranged marriage like so many women before her.

Now?

Now she was looking at a tall powerful man close a very modern looking laptop and turn his attention on her in such a way that made her gut coil. What would it have been like to be the woman in the video? And where the hell did that thought come from? She had been wrong. So so very wrong.

Finally, gathering herself, Hope peered around the office and fussed at the pearl buttons on her coat. “I saw the video…” A noise came from Steven that she’d never heard before, yet, she went on. “…and since we’re still technically engaged, I thought I would return to help you put out the fires of this scandal.”

Another noise came from the king, a derisive snort.

“Wow. That’s cute. Highly amusing coming from you.” Though there was no hint of heat or passion in his words that had been so evident on that video. In her opinion, he didn’t even sound bored. Worse. Steven then leaned back in his seat, peered around her and asked, “Who let you in here?”

Those words, those uncaring words as if she were little more than the two guards outside his office made her burn, bristle.

Which had Hope clearing her throat, bristling one could say. “Actually, it’s more than cute. If you recall, I come from a distinguished royal house. Our engagement is a legally binding agreement.”

For the reaction she got, she might as well have told him it was showing outside.

As she was prone to when there was silence that needed to be filled, Hope pushed the waves of dark hair over her shoulder. She shifted from one foot to the other and watched Steven lean back in his chair.

Finally, as if sensing that she wasn’t going to leave, Steve offered her a shrug. Finding the mere sight of her numbing. He could have cared less what she did one way or the other. So long as she stayed out of his room. He had valuable things in there that he was fond of. “I’m not marrying you. Do with that as you will, you’ll find no sanctuary here.”

This was most certainly not the Steven that she had left all those years ago. It took Hope a second to collect herself, to steel herself. No one had spoken to her in such a way in quite a while. Her brain screamed at her that damage control needed to be done but she was not sure how. In what way? What did she say?

Hope’s brain screamed at her that the plan was failing, everything was going wrong. This was not supposed to happen this way and now she was failing horrendously. What did she do? How could she fix this?

Pricks of pain came from her fists as her nails dug into her palms. Telling Hope that when she unclenched her fists, she would see blood. “You have to marry me!”

Oh this was bad.

This was really really bad.

Across the expanse of his desk, Steve remained calm. Almost to the point of uncaring and such demeanor was reflected in his words. In the way his broad shoulders shrugged and how he rubbed his rough cheek, as if that were more interesting.

“I do not need or want your assistance for anything, forget that video. There is no reason for me to be ashamed of it.”

“Steven! Listen!”

He could see the desperation on her face, hear it in her voice and after so long, he wished he could say that it was rewarding. He wished that he could say it made him feel better after everything that had happened.

It didn’t.

There was just nothing. Little more than cold numbness. Steve felt absolutely nothing.

Nothing was there anymore.

When he looked at Hope there was nothingness.

It reminded him of his father. He hated when he felt that way, when he thought of his father. There was no one on this earth that Steve loathed more. It was his very purpose for being, to not be his father. To end that cycle. To let it die with him.

Most irritably, he shifted in his seat. His eyes found the picture of you both on his desk from a trip to Scotland.

Hints of his father swirled with every syllable only furthering his inner revulsion with himself, his genes and heritage.

“When you left, I did not officially break our engagement as a common courtesy to your father. No more no less. I am a king. You cannot compel me to do anything.”

Pools of blue found Hope again though. A little bit of serene malice hovered between them.

“If you continue to be an annoyance, I will. I am a king now. I have a country to govern. I do not have time for the childish games and pursuits that occupy the western families.”

“Steven this is serious! I could go to prison! In India!”

May his ancestors help him, his first initial response would have been to remind her of her place, remind her of how he should be addressed.

His Majesty.

Exactly as his father would, he swore he heard his father’s voice in his ear.

“You have to help me out! I’m begging you! I don’t care about that other woman. You can have all the mistresses you want!”

A peek down at his watch told Steve that he had minutes to wrap this up and go collect you. Minutes. He had minutes to regain his sanity before he saw his mother.

Minutes.

“Steven!”

Standing from his chair, he shook his head. Doing his best to silence the sound of his father telling him he was not good enough, was not worthy, was not fit to rule. His voice was soft because Steve would not yell like that man. “No Hope. I’m sorry, but no. You remind me of my father. You make me feel like him. You bring him back to life and I cannot live with his ghost. So no. You will have to deal with the consequences of your actions like the rest of us.”

Her eyes went wild.

Steve could see it and was glad he wasn’t within reach of her. He watched her grab a Fabergé Egg from the end of his desk.

Colorful glass accented in gold with rubies around the middle. It fit in her hand but only just, being the size of an ostrich egg and then it went soaring through the air where it smashed loudly into a wall. Denting the dark wood and shattering. Smashing into dozens and dozens of colorful pieces that fell to the floor.

Having felt the very loss of hope itself, she turned to set her storm on him. “You’ll regret this, Your Majesty.” Before turning and leaving, slamming his office door behind her as hard as possible. Leaving Steve with the sound of his father telling him that he wasn’t worthy.

***

Lipstick?

No lipstick?

It was a question for the ages.

A swipe or two of lipstick always gave you the courage you needed in any occasion. But then again, this was not merely any occasion. This was lunch with your boyfriends mother to officially meet her and get to know her, because you were in a serious committed relationship with her son. Because you loved her son.

Oh, and her son was the king, so there were expectations on that already plus with her being the Queen Mother, that was sorta already an expectation of its own.

Lipstick?

No lipstick?

You wanted to look your best because the Queen Mother always looked immaculate. But you also didn’t want to risk getting lipstick on your teeth. Leading you to peer once more into the bathroom mirror.

No. No lipstick. If you put on lipstick you’d be thinking about your lipstick and you needed to focus on making a good impression.

Otherwise, your makeup looked fabulous. Really. Five stars. Two thumbs up.

This had you stuffing your makeup back into your purse and kinda sorta looking up when the bathroom door opened, shut and was locked. Because really. Why would the door be locking?

In the art deco styled bathroom, Steve’s form was very clear and your eyebrows shot up.

Luckily, you were alone, considering how beyond pissed off he looked. One hundred and ten percent not fit to have lunch with his mother. Not with him in this condition.

You had no idea what happened, but something had happened.

He crossed the red and white marble tiled floor. Walked past the gilded edged stalls and stained-glass doors to where you stood at one of four sinks with bronze fixtures and ornately framed mirrors.

To be honest, it was your favorite bathroom of all time. Your Instagram was full of pictures of this bathroom, selfies in this bathroom, up-close pictures of the stained glass.

“Are you ok?”

Beneath his smoothly shaven face, his jaw twitched. “Fine. Are you ready?”

He was tense enough you wouldn’t have been shocked if his joints started to pop, or his teeth cracked from how hard he was clenching his jaw.

Seeing him like this was a no go for Queen Sarah. Everyone knew that she hated to see her son like this and at first you never knew why, not until someone had told you that her husband had the same mannerisms. Steve’s father done the same thing when he had been angry.

While it was common knowledge that Steve was not his father, Steve would never hit his mother.

Some memories could just never be wiped clean.

Having Steve like this was not how you wanted this first lunch with his mother to go. Not one bit. Both of them needed to be on cloud fucking nine. Meaning you were going to have to do something.

“Almost,” was what you told him. A plan already set into motion as you grabbed a few paper towels from the bronze dish that held them between sinks.

One last peek at your hair and you were set. Purse in hand. You stepped on over to press your lips to the flat firm line that was Steve’s mouth. “Could you hold this for me?”

Steve never questioned you or thought twice.

Whether it was from love or trust, or he was too angry over whatever? No one would ever know.

But you seized the moment! Pounced on the opportunity.

You acted as if you were going to check your pumps and instead, set down the paper towels so you could kneel at his feet. Before Steve even had a second to think about it, you had his pants unbuttoned, unzipped and down around his knees. Knowing that the king went commando that morning worked seamlessly into your plan.

His dick hung softly between his muscular creamy thighs.

“What are you doing?”

“Hold my purse with both hands, Your Majesty.”

Though soft, his size was still above average. His penis was solid. Thick. A pink tip peeked out beneath foreskin that was stretched over his member. Soft as velvet, you kissed his slit as you pushed his foreskin up to reveal his shaft.

“Remember the first time I ever saw your dick?”

You sank down on his soft flesh after, sucking him in till nearly all of him fit in your mouth. It rarely happened. Only when he wasn’t erect. When Steve was erect, it wasn’t physically possible unless you unhinged your jaw and didn’t have a gag reflex.

“Oh god…” he gasped out at the warm and wet sensation of your mouth closing around him. Cold air on his ass cheeks. Exposed. Vulnerable. His sac hanging heavy and you down on your knees, taking nearly all of him in your mouth.

Steve clung to your purse like a lifeline.

Thinking back, you hummed out thoughtfully, knowing how fantastic the vibrations felt on him. Knowing that the warm softness that was his dick would soon harden. Until then, you enjoyed how you could take him like this. You relished the smell of him, musky and male. Savored how smooth his skin was on your tongue. Reached up and cupped his testicles that hung down for you.

It’d been at a fundraiser.

A black-tie affair for something or another, who could remember?

The two of you had stolen away towards the end, snuck off when everyone was mingling together and socializing. Slightly tipsy or buzzed from the open bar.

Not the two of you.

No.

Both of you had barely drank. Focused instead on getting away so you could steal some moments together. Moments like these. Moments where your hands were all over one another, your mouths hungry for one another. Frantic for that connection between your bodies that nature demanded and you both were trying so hard to make happen.

Tonight was the night though.

You were determined.

Sucking him deep. Swirling your tongue around him. You could feel Steve starting to thicken up which had you popping off his mouth and surveying the sight of his dick taking on a pinkish hue as blood filled it.

“Are you thinking about it, Your Majesty? About how fucking big your cock is? About how it shocked me? Remember?”

Based alone on the sound that came from Steve, you could deduce that he remembered. Possibly even vividly.

“I remember,” you cooed, licking his pink head and suckling on the end of his dick. Flicking against the hole with your tongue. Massaging his balls. Taking his hardening shaft in your other hand. Needing him to feel only you. Needing him to be here with you. “It was the biggest dick I’d ever seen in my life.”

”You don’t have to.” He had whispered to you in a dark corner of the atrium. Hidden by plants and furniture.

Not that you’d cared.

By that point he had gone down on your countless times and you’d never seen it. Only feeling it through his pants when you’d made-out or groped him, when your bodies rubbed against one another in a frantic urge for completion.

“Jesus Christ Steve! You’re the only man I know who doesn’t want his dick sucked.”

“It’s not that…” he came back with, pausing and finally giving in, allowing you to unzip the black pants of his tux and yank them down. Pull them down and out it popped.

Erect.

Hard. So hard.

Foreskin drawn back to reveal an angry red head smeared with pre-cum.

It was massive, a beast, the hugest dick you’d ever laid eyes on and from on your knees, in a ballgown, made up to feel like a princess. You gasped. You straight up gasped like you were a teenage girl seeing your very first penis. Albeit, the one that was so full of blood it bobbed eye level with you, pointing upwards, was considerably more impressive and probably five inches longer than that first ever dick, easy. As you didn’t exactly have a tape measure on you for comparison.

“Oh my god…” you whispered, well aware that your eyes were wide and mouth was very likely a perfect O. “It’s so big! It’s like the biggest I’ve ever seen! Steve your dick is huge! What do you feed it?”

His voice was a bit concerned. Embarrassed even?

Was he embarrassed about this behemoth in his pants?

“I’m sorry, I know. It can be uncomfortable to give me oral sex. You really don’t have to. I don’t expect.”

But you had cut him off with grabby hands wrapping around his erection, pushing up his foreskin and licking the salty jizz that was starting to ooze out. “Shut up, Your Majesty. Tell me how you want it.” In your ministrations you had lifted up his generous manhood and set eyes upon the heavy balls that hung down between his thighs. “Holy Canada! You have a set of balls to match. You have no idea how much fun I’m going to have fitting those in my mouth.”

When you finally ripped your eyes away from his sexual organ, you shook your head and admonished him severely. “I cannot believe you’d keep this from me!”

Exactly how you knew Steve liked, you sucked on his head and played with the tip of your tongue on his hole. You took him as deep as you could as his erection grew harder and harder in your mouth. Tracing your tongue along the sides and pumping him with your hand until his girth grew so wide, you were unable to touch your fingertips around him.

Up and down you sank on his cock. Till he was rigid beneath your lips and you drug your teeth along at times to heighten the sensation.

Slurping. Squeezing his balls. Hollowing out your cheeks and swallowing any salty release that began to dribble out. You savored the sight of his fingers clenching your purse tightly and his eyes screwed shut.

Between languid trips up and down his length, you pulled off to lick his blunt tip with the flat of your tongue.

“What are you thinking about, My King?”

At first, you didn’t think he would or could answer, which was fine. Your attention was on the round edge of his organ. Licking it. Flicking it with your tongue. Playing with it till you sank back down.

After a few seconds.

After a deep breath from Steve.

After that, he managed to get out.

“Thinking about that night. The night I took your maidenhead.”

Your maidenhead?

Well, that was a trip to past. It sent your eyes up and your mouth back off him so you could speak without a mouth full of dick. “Mmm. Thinking about how you went crazy? How you went all feral and popped my cherry?”

In your hand his penis twitched.

It was too perfect an opportunity to not pounce upon it.

If you couldn’t make him come from saying these filthy disgusting true things to him, did you really deserve to marry this man? “Your Majesty? Does it turn you on to think about my having been a virgin? About how you’re the only man to ever be in my body? Do you remember how tight I was? How hard you had to push to break my hymen?”

Little motions came from Steve. Whether he knew it or not. He was making small thrusts into your mouth that you hummed around, sucked on.

Something hit the floor.

Hands were on your head, fingers were in your hair. A wicked smile curled over your lips and Steve was methodically pumping into your mouth.

He sounded strained. He sounded like he was in pain.

“Felt so good. You’re so good to me. My angel. You were so tight.” He declared, announced, would have shouted to the heavens if he was capable. Each word came out in cadence. Almost in a chant. “Felt so good. Feels so good still. You’re mine. You’re mine. You’re mine.” On top of feeling you sucking him deep. Paired with your fingers holding his testicles tight. Mixed with your fist wrapped around his base. It was a glorious storm coming together to make him shatter.

Steve was going to come. He was going to come like right now.

It sent his thoughts spiraling along with his words.

“Love you. Love your body. Love being in you. So warm and tight and mine. All mine. All of you is mine. Want you. Want to fill you. Want want want.”

Gasping out. His breath gone. All air left his lungs when Steve climaxed into your mouth. A pitched noise did come that was followed with his fingers pulling your face against him, his pelvis pushing into you. A moan that made him weak in the knees followed that told him you were pleased with him. You were happy.

If he died in the next moment, he would have been a happy man.

All Steve could feel was pleasure. It consumed him body. It whited out his mind. It made his balls empty into the warmth of your mouth, till he was certain that nothing remained.

Even then you weren’t done.

Helpless. Awestruck.

Hopelessly devoted, Steve watched you drag your tongue around him to clean him up. Catching the last few spurts of ejaculate on your tongue before you showed him, then swallowed his seed.

Rendering him panting and sweaty.

He dropped down onto his knees and he kissed you. Mindless. Unable to think about anything else other than your mouth and being lucky enough to have convinced you to be his woman. Steve kissed you deeply, uncaring about the fact he could taste himself, unconcerned when his tongue curled around yours that he might have gotten some of his own ejaculate. His Majesty didn’t care.

Nor was he overly concerned about his knees being on the cold marble tile when he groaned against your mouth. “Love you. Love you so much. Love you to the moon and back.”

[little-mad]

Downsides of Thievery Pt. 12

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Gavin felt completely emotionally drained. Between being insulted by Ashryn and threatened by Rael, all he really wanted to do was crawl into a hole and hide from the world for a little while. There was no part of him that was ready to face the alteon Emperor--to be judged and sentenced. Gavin wasn’t even sure he had the energy to plead his case at this point.

As much as he just wanted to run away, there was no escape for the human. He was trapped on top of a gigantic desk. The massive items nearby almost seemed to taunt him, reminding him of how small and insignificant he was in this dimension. “You’re pathetic,” the quill sitting in its inkwell a few feet away seemed to say. “You’re all alone,” Gavin imagined a massive roll of parchment sneer.

“Great, I’ve sunk so low I’m starting to imagine inanimate objects talking to me,” Gavin thought bitterly to himself.

Meanwhile, the alteon Emperor loomed over the human like some kind of divine monument. The man almost looked ethereal, as if he walked straight out of a storybook. His skin, which appeared nearly flawless, was of a cool brown color. He shared Rael’s long black hair, but rather than tying it back, the Emperor wore his down, with a few strands done into intricate braids. As seemed to be the case with all alteons, the Emperor’s eyes were of a striking, vibrant color. Those yellow irises were focused in on Gavin, holding him in their intense stare.

In terms of dress, the Emperor certainly looked the part. He wore a jeweled band around his head that appeared to be made of silver--which matched the metal that made up the leaf shaped earring that hung from one of his pointed ears.

With the Emperor sitting at his desk, it was impossible for Gavin to see a majority of the man’s apparel, but what he could see looked incredibly lavish. The tunic was of a deep blue color and was decorated with silver embellishments along the hemlines. No doubt the garment was made of silk or some other similar luxurious fabric.

“We have much to discuss,” the Emperor began as he looked down at Gavin. “But first, I believe introductions are in order.” There was no hostility in the man’s voice. Unlike with Ashryn, Gavin didn’t detect anything disdainful or accustatory in his tone. Instead, the Emperor seemed perfectly calm and polite; he even wanted to engage in civil greetings. “My name is Ailred. I am the son of Lyris, and the Emperor of Iaela,” he announced smoothly, the words clearly ones he had said many times.

Considering both Rael and the Emperor had introduced themselves without surnames, Gavin had to assume alteon’s didn’t utilize them in the same way many human cultures did. The Emperor had presented himself as the son of “Lyris” though, something Rael had not done. Were he in a better mental state, Gavin may have pondered why that might be, but given the circumstances he would just accept it and move on.

It took a long moment of Gavin just standing there frozen, shifting uncomfortably under the Emperor’s silent stare, before he figured out he was expected to say something. “He wants me to introduce myself,” he realized.

How the hell was he supposed to get himself to speak? This was maybe the very first time Gavin had zero desire to say anything. He didn’t trust himself anymore. The last time he’d opened his big mouth, he’d ended up with a giant hand slammed down beside him. Now imagine the consequences that could await him if he said the wrong thing to a damn Emperor.

At the same time, remaining silent was hardly an option either. Refusing to comply with the Emperor’s wishes could just as easily have frightening repercussions. Gavin really and truly was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

After a few seconds of internal panicking and frenzied thinking, Gavin spoke up. “My name is Gavin--uh Gavin Stone,” he managed to spit out. He tried to force himself to maintain eye contact with the Emperor, but every fiber of his being was begging him to look away from that intimidating gaze.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Gavin Stone,” the Emperor replied, giving Gavin a nod of greeting before turning his attention beyond him. “Rael, I trust you encountered no issues in retrieving Mr. Stone?” he inquired, reminding Gavin of the fact that his former captor remained in the room, just a few yards away.

“There was no trouble from the humans, your majesty; however I did run into some brigands in the woods who attempted to abduct the prisoner,” Gavin heard Rael explain from behind him. “The offenders did manage to escape, and for that I offer my sincerest apologies.” God, Rael almost sounded like a different person when he spoke to the Emperor. Not that Gavin had any real grasp on what kind of person Rael was. He’d learned that the hard way.

A frown developed on the Emperor’s face. “You did your duty in protecting the human,” he began. “What I’m more concerned with is the fact that these criminals were bold enough to attempt to interfere with Imperial business.”

“Greed can drive you to do some pretty stupid shit,” Gavin thought to himself bitterly.

After a moment of silent contemplation, the Emperor sighed. “I suppose we’ll need to increase the number of patrols in the surrounding woods,” he concluded. “I’ll also have you meet with Captain Saida later to coordinate a search for these would-be abductors.”

If Kaydin and his female associate were smart, they would already be getting as far away from the palace as possible. Gavin could tell the Emperor was serious about this, so if the two thugs didn’t get some major distance from the scene of the crime, there was probably a high likelihood they’d wind up getting caught.

“Now,” Gavin instantly felt the intensity of the Emperor’s gaze return to him, “you are here because you were caught stealing from an alteon diplomat while they were visiting the human realm, correct?”

Suddenly Gavin felt like he was back in elementary school, being forced to answer questions the principal already knew the answer to. The Emperor already knew what the human in front of him had done, and yet he wanted to see Gavin admit to it himself.

Biting back an exasperated sigh, Gavin gave a nod of confirmation.

“And you understand that because your crime was against an alteon, you were brought here to face judgement?” the Emperor inquired, continuing to watch Gavin with those hypnotizing yellow eyes.

Gavin nodded again. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get away with giving non-verbal responses forever, but he wanted to avoid it for as long as possible. Not only because he didn’t trust himself not to say the wrong thing, but also because he wasn’t sure how he was meant to refer to the Emperor. Rael had called him “your majesty” earlier, but the idea of saying something like that sounded so strange to Gavin.

“I realize as a human you are unfamiliar with alteon customs, so allow me to explain the situation,” the Emperor started. “Typically, when I am called to judge a criminal, it is done as an official trial in which nobles and all involved parties are present.”

Gavin supposed that wasn’t altogether different from the trials back home. Of course, rather than having a jury of his peers, Gavin would be judged by the Emperor and the Emperor alone.

“However,” the giant monarch continued, “because you are human, the circumstances are different. I believe a large-scale event would do more harm than good in the long run,” he explained, folding his hands atop the desk. Gavin tried not to focus on them for long, because he and giant hands really weren’t on good terms.

While he was glad to hear he wouldn’t be subjected to some grandiose trial in which he’d be trapped in a room full of a bunch of alteons staring at him, Gavin wasn’t entirely sure alternatives would bode any better. If the Emperor had no one around to criticize his decision, he could be as cruel as he wanted.

“In the meeting which preceded this one, I discussed with my advisors various potential sentences,” the Emperor went on. “I also requested input from Ashryn, as he has some experience interacting with humans,” he added, looking at Rael when he said it.

Gavin suppressed a scowl. He was sure any input from Ashryn had been exceedingly negative. For whatever reason, the guy had it out for him--or maybe he just had it out for all humans in general for some reason.

“Ashryn’s position on the matter was that you need to be made an example of,” the Emperor stated, quickly erasing any doubt that that asshole had a vendetta against humankind. “His suggestion was that you be made a spectacle of, perhaps by placing you in a cage and displaying you in the front hall for visiting nobles and the like to view.”

An instant feeling of nausea came over Gavin. He felt absolutely sick to his stomach. Ashryn was beyond just a dick, he had to be some sort of sadistic demon. The suggestion that a living, breathing, intelligent creature be caged and put on show like some kind of zoo animal was abhorrent. Gavin could hardly even believe what he was hearing.

“Your majesty, forgive me, but doesn’t that seem a bit excessive?” Gavin heard Rael ask incredulously. What was with that guy? Not ten minutes ago he was yelling at Gavin and standing up for his alteon soldier buddy. Now all of a sudden he supposedly cared about what happened to Gavin? It just didn’t make any sense.

The Emperor gave a small shrug. “I don’t know, some of my advisors seemed to like that idea. They believe that if Gavin Stone isn’t properly made an example of, then more and more humans will think they can get away with crossing alteons.”

What was Gavin supposed to do? Should he try to stand up for himself, to excuse what he’d done? Would it even matter? He had committed the crime, that much was fact. So would any excuses even make a difference? He tried to read the Emperor’s face, to look for some kind of sign that he would be understanding, but the man had an expression that was virtually unreadable. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”

-

Of course, of course Ashryn would advocate for some cruel, antiquated punishment for Gavin. It was obvious the guy had some inexplicable resentment towards humans, certainly more than Rael had ever had. He’d been of the opinion that they were inferior, fairly irritating creatures, but never would have gone out of his way to ensure they suffer. Ashryn, on the other hand, seemed eager to see Gavin endure the worst.

And what was worse? The Emperor hadn’t immediately dismissed Ashryn’s suggestion. How could he even consider it? Surely he would never subject even the worst alteon criminal to the humiliation and indignity that would come from being locked in a cage and put on display. Yes Gavin was human, but he was still an intelligent, sentient being. He didn’t deserve to be treated like an attraction.

But what could Rael do? He was in no position to question the Emperor; doing so would be suicide for the reputation he’d worked so hard to achieve. He had to wonder whether the information that Gavin had in fact been hired to steal from the diplomat would impact the Emperor’s decision.

Gavin himself seemed pretty convinced that that bit of information wouldn’t change anything, so it was doubtful that he’d speak up about it. Rael wasn’t convinced. Surely if the Emperor knew Gavin had just been used by somebody else, he would be less harsh with the punishment he issued.

Rael couldn’t speak up about it. He had already taken a great risk with his previous comment. Continuing to speak out of turn in favor of a human criminal could end up reflecting horribly on him. The Emperor may begin to question his loyalty. Rael couldn’t put that all on the line for the sake of a human of all people...right?

The memory of Gavin’s fear-stricken face flashed through Rael’s mind. He cringed internally at the mental image. Gavin had clearly had some level of trust in him, the look of betrayal he’d worn made that much evident. When Rael had used his far greater size and strength to scare the human into submission, he’d shattered any trust that may have developed between them. He had taken the side of Ashryn, someone he hated, rather than risk his status by standing up for Gavin.

Yes, what Rael had done had been the right thing to ensure his reputation remained in good standing. But if it had been the right thing to do, then why did Rael feel so miserable about it?

“If you have something to say on the matter, you have my permission to speak up,” the Emperor told Rael, clearly sensing his hesitation.

“I can’t say anything, I’ve worked too hard to get where I am to risk it for some human!” one part of Rael’s mind insisted, but he was finding that voice was quickly becoming quieter and quieter.

While it was difficult for him to believe he could make such a profound difference, Rael couldn’t help but worry that what he said next could seal Gavin’s fate one way or the other. The Emperor was watching, waiting for a response. Rael had to make up his mind. “Yes, your majesty. I have information concerning Lady Elyth’s stolen ring.”

[killjoyhistoryarchive]

Mike Milligram: The Lost Killjoy

Edit: On July 21st 2020, a Mike Milligram comic by Gerard Way and Shaun Simon was officially announced. However, I’ll leave this post as it is for future reference.

—

In 2009, while My Chemical Romance fans were eagerly awaiting news on their upcoming album, Gerard Way had another surprise in store: the announcement of a new comic series called “Killjoys.”

Co-written by Shaun Simon and illustrated by Becky Cloonan, Gerard told CBR that the series would “deal with much more mature and controversial themes, such as hate crimes and homophobia, the homogenization of American culture and American life.” Unlike “The Umbrella Academy,” which was set in a fantasy world, “Killjoys” was set in modern-day America.

But what nobody realized was that even after an album, two music videos, and a six-issue comic series, Gerard’s original conception would never see the light of day.

In 2008, Gerard Way and Shaun Simon developed the Killjoys universe in a frenzy of inspiration. Gerard’s original sketch features Mike Milligram on the left–named after Gerard’s brother Mikey Way–with a host of other characters that accompanied Mike on his journey. The comic was announced a year later at San Diego Comic Con, with a release planned in 2010.

With My Chemical Romance wrapping up their fourth album, Gerard and Shaun were ready to start writing. Becky Cloonan drew concept art for Mike Milligram, as well as promotional artwork that they planned to use at the Comic Con announcement. However, the Mike Milligram art was scrapped and replaced with a simple image of the Killjoy spider–a move that could later be seen as prophetic.

In 2009, “Killjoys” was an entirely different concept. There was no Party Poison, no Dr. Death Defying, no Battery City, no girl with special powers. The original comic involved a surreal road trip through America that reunited offbeat characters and confronted harsh realities along the way. In 2013, Shaun Simon offered this description in the introduction to the special hardcover edition of the comics:

The old version of the story focused on Mike Milligram, a late-twenty-something living in a desert trailer park and working a crappy job at a supermarket. Mike’s teenage years were a blur. He couldn’t tell if the things he remembered had actually happened or not. Part of him believed he was part of a gang called the Killjoys who fought fictional things in the real world. The other part of him believed it was all just a dream. Music was the only thing that kept Mike going, so when the music was erased from his Ramones tape, it sent him over the edge. He went out and got his old teenage gang, who were now living normal lives, back together because, yes, it was all real. Other members of his gang included Ani-Max, now a high school history teacher; Code Blue, a rabble-rouser who was a working girl in Vegas; Monster, a new young member they met on the road; and Kyle 100%, who was a B-list actor now. They all had strange powers based on objects. Halloween masks and costume accessories, puffy jackets, toy ray guns. It was a story about a group of old friends getting together and discovering what America really was. Reaching deep inside its pretty facade and pulling out the ugly guts. (It was semiautobiographical. I toured with Gerard and his band for a couple of years before realizing I needed to find my own path.) The gang would have found out that another former gang had now become the largest health care corporation in the country and were hell bent on making the world a safe and clean place by removing all that was dirty, like the Ramones. It would have been a great story, and I’m sure parts will end up in Gerard’s and my’s future work.

Of course, we all know what happened after that announcement. After Gerard took a fateful week-long trip to the desert, MCR decided to scrap “Conventional Weapons” and fueled their energy into writing “Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys.” But even as Gerard delved into this new post-apocalyptic version of the Killjoy universe, the comics remained the same. As late as 2011, Gerard claimed in an interview with Artrocker that the comics hadn’t changed at all:

No, none of the characters, even our characters, are in it. It is a completely separate thing, even almost a separate setting. It shares all the ideals behind the record and the theories and the commentary but it is nothing like the videos you have seen. I think the car is probably the only thing that’s the same!

But as the band took on more responsibilities–filming music videos, promoting the album, going on tour–the comics kept getting pushed back. First the release planned for 2010; then it was pushed back to 2011. And while the era had kicked off without a hitch, MCR eventually hit one of the first of many roadblocks: they didn’t have enough money to film the third video. So as Shaun Simon told CBR, the original story featuring Mike Milligram was scrapped, and replaced with the story of the girl and the Ultra Vs:

[A]fter the record, Gerard had built this whole world around the Killjoys. When it came time for the comic, Gerard called me up and said, “We ran out of money. We wanted to make the third video, but we don’t have the money. So do you want to make the idea for that video into a comic?” We started talking about ideas, and we had so many that it turned into this whole series.

In an interview with Paste (2013), Gerard went into more detail about the process:

The deal is that I had written three videos (“Na Na Na,” “Sing,” and “The Only Hope For Me Is You”), and the third video had never gotten made. By the time we had completed the second video, we just ran out of budget money. At the time, somebody was managing us and not keeping an eye on this stuff. Long story short, there was no budget. So I wrote a video, and of course it ends up being the most expensive one, as the last part would usually be. But we couldn’t make it! Killjoys started its life as a very different comic. It was heavily-rooted in nineties Vertigo post-modernism. There’s a lot of very cool, abstract ideas in it; I wouldn’t even call it a superhero book. That (comic) was a visual and thematic inspiration on what would become the album Danger Days. It was pretty loose, though. This was going to be my interpretation of the story, so there’s way more science fiction involved. And what I need to say to the world needed to be a little more direct, so I boiled it down to something that’s still very smart and challenging, but I thought was definitely easier to understand through song or visual. Then (Killjoys artist) Becky Cloonan drew a 7-inch for “The Only Hope For Me Is You,” which was going to be the last video single. I realized I was out of budget, so I said ‘just make this the girl from the first and second video at 15. And have her shave her head or chop her hair off like in The Legend of Billie Jean, because that’s how the video was supposed to start.’ So (Cloonan) sends this drawing over and I’m on tour with Blink 182 in a hotel on an off day. I get this drawing and I’m so immediately blown away by it. I call Shaun, my co-writer and co-creator, and I say ‘open your email, I’m going to send you something.’ I ask him ‘how does this image make you feel?’ We talked for two hours. By the end of the conversation we both realized that that image was the comic, and the third video was basically the comic. So we figured how we were going to make this interesting and exciting for six issues and complete the story. And that was the final direction. It was pretty obvious to us.

In a way, Mike Milligram’s spirit lived on, as fans noticed the similarities between Mike Milligram and Party Poison. But it’s inaccurate to say that Mike Milligram became Party Poison, though “Party Poison’s real name is Mike Milligram” became a persistent rumor in the fandom. Mike’s story was not Poison’s; he wasn’t a post-apocalyptic rebel, but a teenager searching for his identity in modern America.

Will Mike Milligram’s story ever be told? At this point, it’s not likely. But his tale offers a glimpse into the creative minds of Gerard Way and Shaun Simon, and makes us ponder the fact that with a few changes–the comics being released earlier, for instance, or MCR having the money to fund the third video–the comics could have been entirely different.

[dezmondmyles]

haha ok i got tagged by @taruyison ilu <3

alright cool lets do this

Would You Rather - Fanfic Version

Do you prefer friends to lovers or enemies to lovers? Aw man, do I gotta choose? I really love both, but there’s something a little more mmm, intimate, about enemies to lovers.

Would you rather be forced to watch a terrible movie adaptation of your favorite fanfic or an amazing adaptation of your least favorite fanfic? "terrible” and “amazing” are very subjective, and I love trashy movies/games that are fun to watch/play so that’s kinda my attitude with fanfics haha.

Would you rather read fanfic chapters backwards or read them as parsed from google translate? Backwards? I guess? If I have to translates a fic, uhh, I just Don’t lmao.

Would you rather consume every fanfic as an audiobook read by a monotone narrator or have to read on a tiny printed piece of papers written in yellow highlighter? If I had to choose, probably the audiobook. My eyes have trouble reading black text on white background sometimes as it is.

Would you rather get a tattoo on your body of every fanfic title you read or never read fanfic again? Never read fanfic again ahahaha. I’ve read some trashy fanfic just based on the equally dubious title before.

Do you prefer vampire au or werewolf au? If you know anything about me as a person.... Well you know that answer. And if you don’t, it’s uh, werewolf.  

Would you rather get sold to a boy band or be stuck in a time loop with your love interest? Time loop I guess? I never listened to 1D.

Would you rather kill your favorite character or marry your least favorite character? What if my favorite character is already dead?? Also what’s stopping me from marrying my least, killing them, and cashing out on the life insurance??

Would you rather meet your love interest in a coffee shop au or college au? My big brain take is to combine both- The local coffee shop near campus. Boom.

Would you rather have your fic history leaked or never read another fanfic again? Again, I’ll just never read again lmaaaao.

Would you rather be able to read amazing fanfiction but it always has an mpreg plot twist or only read bad fanfiction for the rest of your life? I uh, wrote?? Some of the mpreg in a reasonable semi-thought out fashion?? Also I’ve already spent most of my reading subjectively bad fanfic so like, idk.

Would you rather gay ships or straight ships? I can do both?? Also are we talking gay-gay ships or “these two are in a samesies relationship but theyre bi” ship? cause i can do that too.

Would you rather ship a rarepair with almost no content or a pair with lots of content but almost all of it is cracky nightmare smut? Honey I’m already in rarepair hell don’t even talk to me lmfao.

Would you rather see your otp shatter years after their happily ever after or never have the happily ever after happen in the first place? I mean, both is already like, the Thing with them anyway lmfao. I fuck hard with bittersweet endings all the same.

Would you rather read a poorly written but complete fanfic or a literary masterpiece last updated june 2013? I mean I do both. The former esp if the content is compelling enough for me to continue reading just to see how much more terrible it can get.

Would you rather read SSSS++++ tier smut with almost 11k words or 70k words worth of fluff? I can do both, the fluff will probably make me cry though in the end lmao you don’t get that many words of fluff without something sad in there

Would you rather read only alternate universe fanfics or only canon fanfics? My bread and butter is AU by virtue of being a crossover shipper. No matter how close to canon I get with either, it’s still ultimately AU. Plus, canon is dumb af anyway for both so i’m doing everyone a favor lmao.

Would you rather introduce fanfics to your normie friend with an ongoing smut fic with great writing or a complete fluff fic with terrible writing? Depends on the normie. I have non-fandom friends who enjoy writing and reading as much as I do, and I feel like that a well written smut and fluff fic would be more compelling to them, if not just to analyze the characters.

Would you rather read your notp with all your favorite tropes and perfect characterization or your otp with tropes you despise and inconsistent characterization? I think I’d pick the notp honestly. Listen, anything can become an otp with the right convincing in my book. Though, for most of my notps, they employ a lot of similar annoying tropes I hate seeing in most of my otps so like, can’t win them all.

Would you rather have a major character death or have a bed sharing scene but it’s a ship you hate? Major Character Death in the bed they were sharing.

Would you rather every fanfic includes Jackson Wang or every fanfic includes at least one nsfw moment? dunno who that is so I guess one nsfw moment it is.

Would you rather read a fanfic that has constant grammar and spelling mistakes or one that the characters are wildly different than canon? Have you read any of my fics I’m the worst speller/grammarererrr ever. However, I can take “wildly different” to a certain point in the case of many AUs where you kinda have to fudge things a little for the sake of your setting.

Would you rather read the most absolutely messed up dead dove with your most wholesome ship or subject yourself to 100,000 words of your notp all written in a solid block with no punctuation and horrible grammar? Dead Dove, no contest.

Would you rather have the power to read every fanfic in existence or have the power to make any ship canon? Any ship canon. I literally have no interest in read every single fanfic ever.

Would you rather read a cringy 70 chapter harry styles mafia au or a high school kpop au y/n fic with horrible grammar? At least I know who Harry Styles is lmfao.

Would you rather have your otp get together in canon but one of them dies in a tragic way or all members of your otp survive but get together with other people? They’re already dead in their respective canons so it can’t get worse from here right?

Would you rather accidentally send your boss a super detailed smut fic or read a super detailed smut fic about your boss? I think the latter because I would rather I lose respect for my boss than the other way around lol.

Would you rather read smut fanfic aloud to your parents or submit smut fanfic to the employer of your dream job? Like taru asked, what is the context. I think the latter though if it was allowed and it’s explicitly what they wanted.

Would you rather pine after an oblivious love interest or be the oblivious love interest pined after? I’m both irl (probably lmao)

Would you rather hanahaki disease or your soulmate’s first words to you tattooed on your body (and they’re really stupid)? I had to look up what hanahaki was lol, so I guess soulmate’s first words. And I mean, how much more stupid would mine be anyway?

Would you rather be an alpha, beta, or omega in omegaverse? None, I hate omegaverse with a passion. You can’t dress it up in any form possible to make me enjoy it. Idc what character(s) is/are in it, it bugs the fuck out of me.

Would you rather read a fanfic where the characters turn into furries or a fanfic where the characters all get pregnant? I mean, out of morbid curiosity, I’d wanna read both?? I’d hate it but I’d attempt to read it at least once?

Would you rather be able to resurrect dead fics or have the power to create a plethora of new fics effortlessly? New fics, so long as they’re getting completed on top of that ahaha.

whoo, that was fun! it’s been a while since i’ve done one of these memes. thanks for the tag, taru!

ok so i guess i’ll tag in return: @cooldadmondmiles @theladyisapirate and @seventhstrife

have fun friendos!

[doomedandstoned]

THE DESERTFEST DIARIES: Destination Antwerp ‘19

~By Willem Verhappen~

Photographs by Stefanie Dörnbrack and Willem Verhappen

Day 1

The good beer, tasteful food and beautiful inner city, together with the fact that even though I live close to it, it makes me feel like I’m on vacation, make that Antwerp ranks high on my list of favorite cities. Every once in awhile my girlfriend and I like to spontaneously cross our southern border to go shopping (seriously, check out Chelsea Records if you're ever there) or watch a movie in their massive cinema complex. There is however one weekend when nothing can stop me from going to Antwerp and that's the weekend of Desertfest. For three days, Antwerp turns into the Mecca of all the music I -- and since you're reading this, probably you, too -- hold dear. So on the 18th of October I made my fourth pilgrimage to this epicenter of riffs.

My timing could hardly have been better, since my friends with whom I was going to share a hotel room for the next three nights showed up at pretty much the same time. After dropping our stuff at the hotel, we went downtown to meet up with some more friends and have a pizza and some beers.

With some proper groundwork laid, as we say in Dutch, it was time to head to the Trix, as the venue's called. There was some discussion as to whether it was faster to go by tram or subway, so we decided to turn it into a race. In the end, we still all ended up going by subway, since there didn't appear to be a tram going that way. I was told, however, that the subway was way quicker than the tram the guys took in previous years. That still counts as a victory in my eyes.

When we arrived at the venue, we were greeted by the sign shown at the top of this article. What a way to get your crowd hyped up for all the goodness that was to come.

The first band we got to see, was Monomyth. The band, featuring former Gorefest guitar player Boudewijn Bonebakker, plays an addictive mix of styles ranging from kraut- and space rock to more progressive and psychedelic exploits. The Dutch instrumental rockers might be reminiscent of acts like My Sleeping Karma, but with five people, there's never a boring moment.

After that first headbanging session, it was time for some more partying with desert rockers Nebula, where the title of their new album 'Holy Shit' sums up the experience quite well. This was followed by my first Duvel beer of the day and the Dutch '60s heavy psych inspired wolf pack named Temple Fang, both at the cafe. For a band that hasn't even released a single yet, they've got quite the following. Taking into account that two members used to be in the cult band Death Alley, gives some understanding as to why. Witnessing them live makes you a believer yourself.

As a music collector and lover of artwork, I decided to pay a visit to the merch area. I was very happy to see that my personal artwork favorites Branca Studio decided to take the car to bring some of their t-shirts to Desertfest. Now I finally have my very own "Doom life" shirt. Could my day get any better?

Of course it can! With some more cds and some less money in my pockets it was time to go to the main all for Truckfighters. When we walked through the door, one of my friends asked when the show had started. This was more than five minutes before the show actually started, but the hall was already crowded. This was the first time we had difficulties getting in before a band started playing, but it turned out to be only the first of multiple shows where this phenomenon occurred.

As you might know, Truckfighters was on a hiatus for a couple of years. Lucky for us, the Swedes have returned. I'm happy to say that the show hasn't really changed. You still get your high energy rock show lead by Ozo. Dango still runs through the crowd shirtless. There's still a different drummer than the last time you saw them. And of course, every place turns into absolute mayhem once they play Desert Cruiser. Honestly, the only thing that changed is Dango's beard. That's fine, but other than that, a Truckfighters show is perfect as it is.

Sadly, there wasn't much time to catch my breath, for after witnessing a bit of Beglian band 30,000 Monkies, Yatra was about to take the upstairs stage. I wasn't familiar with the Maryland doom crew, but someone (sorry, I don't remember who) recommended them to me. I cannot thank that person enough, for Yatra is by far my favorite discovery this Desertfest. It was the first doom band of the eveningThis trio spices up their low 'n' slow doom with a whiff of black metal dirt, just the way I like it.

Since I've never been much of a Zeal & Ardor fan, I decided to socialize and go looking for stories instead. That's when I ran into the Yatra gang, who were talking with Dango from Truckfighters. The latter mentioned to me that we can expect a solo record from his hand somewhere in the near future. Needless to say, this encounter needed to be documented, as shown in the picture above. Afterwards I decided to check out some Z&A, only to arrive when they started Devil is Fine. It was a good reminder of why I'm not a fan.

The first day ended with a banging show from Polish psych doomers Sunnata and a fun after party. I had to promise not to write about the after parties, even though I could write an entire article on just that. Let's just say that lots of fun and beer was had by all, up to the point where we were kicked out of the venue.

Day 2

Saturday started, not entirely unexpectedly, with a hangover. Usually I get over them pretty quick, but this one kept lingering on for quite some time. Not even the great sandwich I had, seemed to have any effect. The thing that eventually cured the hangover, was Bismut. The Desertfest website describes them as "instrumental psych desert metal", which is an apt description for these young Dutch hounds. We're treated to some heavy spaced out jams, mixed with some colorful shredding. Day two is a go!

The Admiral Sir Cloudesley Shovell put up one of my favorite shows this weekend. This is their second year in a row and third in total of playing here and if you've seen them live, you know why that is. The band are like the demented love child between Motörhead and Hawkwind (like that would ever happen), blasting some dirty biker rock, but with some stoner groove in there. It's also the first band I witnessed on the Canyon stage that made full use of the video screen.

Not every band can be a winner and if there's a loser this weekend, it's Fireball Ministry. Personally, I really enjoyed their distinct brand of desert rock, featuring vocals from both guitarists James A. Rota II and Emily Burton. The only point of critique is that Emily should stick to background vocals.

Even though the band gave their everything, they we're playing to a half filled hall at most, with many people leaving after a song or two with some just taking a couple of pictures. These pictures were of course from former Kyuss bass player Scott Reeder. This behaviour made the band look more like a freak show than anything else, which is too bad, since Fireball Ministry deserves better.

The Desert stage is far more crowded for Church of Misery. I can't say I'm surprised, since the Japanese quartet knows how to deliver a solid slab of old school doom metal. For 50 minutes, the band proved to know exactly how to keep heads banging in unison.

Following Church of Misery, I decided it was time to give the muscles in my neck some rest. And what better place to do that than in the food and relax area. This is like the school yard where all the cool kids hang out, drink beer and smoke, but mixed with a food truck festival. I'm usually not big on festival food, but the food here is certainly an exception. From homemade fries and vegan burgers to Mexican and tribal food, there's something here for everyone. It's a great place to just sit down, eat and talk to random people.

This moment of peace was very much needed ahead of Bongripper. This was one of the most crowded shows of the festival. The band created a most impressive wall of sound, or should I say wall of noise, during their show. Although the show was very impressive, I'm still surprised by how insanely crowded it was.

After the intense show from the Chicago doom crew, desert rockers Steak are a welcome change of scenery. They might be from London, but these guys sound like they came straight from the California desert, although with some Pink Floyd thrown into the mix. I was very charmed by their sound, since it sounds familiar, but with a British twist. Highly enjoyable.

At the Desert stage, we remain in the instrumental musical spectrum with Pelican. This was one of the shows I looked forward to the most. The post-metal from these Americans manages to find that sweet spot between heavy dark riffs and a touch of light. The hour of playtime was over way too soon.

The other band I was really looking forward to, was Dopelord. I'm not sure what's happening in Poland that's causing the rise of so many good old school doom bands, as proven by Dopelord's recent excellent 4-way split with Weedpecker, Major Kong and Spaceslug, but it's clear these guys are leading the revolution. This show had everything I love: great songs, heavy riffs, exploitation cinema on the background and rowdy crowd. There even was a new song, called 'Hail Satan' and some moshing during the epic 'Reptile Sun'.

On my way to Ty Segall & The Freedom Band, I heard some music coming from the Vulture stage that caught my attention. Crowhurst was supposed to be performing here, but they had to cancel last minute. Their replacement were the Antwerp locals Your Highness.

Earlier that day, I was told they were a doom band and that I would like them. That turned out to be very true. The band plays traditional doom metal, but with a hardcore ferocity. I clearly wasn't the only one who enjoyed their show, judging by some of the most intense mosh pits I'd seen all weekend. I was so entertained that, for the first time in four years, I missed a Desertfest headliner. Not that I mind, these guys are worth it.

There's no rest for the wicked and Inter Arma made sure of that. The death/black.sludge doom band pretty much set the Canyon stage ablaze. It was past midnight but that was no excuse to take it slow. Vocalist Mike Paparo was running the stage like a ravenous beast. The band was a great warm-up for yet another night of mad partying.

Day 3

Usually the last day of a festival is somewhat of a cooling down. Festival days are long days and involve lots of walking and a lot of things to take in, resulting in you being exhausted, both physically and mentally. For this Desertfest, being tired was not an option, since the lineup is nothing but spectacular. Luckily for me, I woke up relatively fresh. I still don't know how I pulled that off, but I'm not complaining.

Since not everyone was as awake as I was, the first band we got to see was Wolvennest. I've seen the band perform many times in the past four years or so and I've yet to grow tired of their music. Their excellent mix of black metal, doom, psychedelic and krautrock still entrances me every show. And every show, they seem to get better. At least it helped me clear my mind in preparation for the rest of the day.

Wolvennest may have brought me to a higher plain, but after that it's a slap back to reality, courtesy of The Progerians. Their sludge mimics their hometown of Brussels. It's dark and nasty, but with just enough melody to make it appeal to the masses. This makes it a good warming up for the impressive set from Lord Dying, although they look towards more progressive and psychedelic horizons.

Monkey3 is one of those bands that always manage to deliver. Their instrumental space rock usually attracts quite the crowd and that was no different here. Sadly, nature called, resulting in me not being able to get back to the Desert stage. On the other hand, I did get to see High Reeper. These guys manage to play an energetic, balanced mix of stoner rock and Sabbath-y doom metal. A perfect blend of old school and new school.

The NOLA sludge kickers of Eyehategod are on a roll today. The band is clearly in a good mood and frontman Mike IX Williams is playing the crowd like a fiddle. The crowd, on their turn, is eating the slow, nasty blues raw. This was without a doubt my favorite show of the day.

After EHG I'm in doubt, stay where I am and be assured of a good spot for tonight's headliner, or go and see Un. I decide on the latter, even though many people seem to be saving their spots. I don't regret it though, since the Seattle band delivers some beautiful, heavy funeral doom. Especially fellow Seattle natives Bell Witch come to mind while riding Un's emotional roller coaster.

When I got back to the Desert stage, some 20 minutes before showtime, I was happy to see that it wasn't as crowded as I'd expected. I managed to get a nice spot in the center of the hall before the countdown started for the band all of Desertfest was clearly waiting for.

At a quarter to 11, the famous audio recording leading up to the moon landing started playing. What happened next felt like a ritual. Joints were lit across the audience, with some also being passed along through the crowd. People moved towards the stage like Muslims to the Ka'aba.

At 11, the almighty Sleep took the stage. Even though it was my fourth time seeing them in 15 months, the band still manages to impress me. All through the weekend, bands have been projecting everything from band logos to movies on the backdrop, but not Sleep.

Sleep doesn't need a backdrop. Nor a dynamic light show, for that matter. Sleep is all about the music. And the music is all that matters. Witnessing a Sleep show is like witnessing a voodoo ritual. The band's goal is to get you in a trance, to get you to follow the smoke to the riff filled land. For 75 minutes the music is all that matters.

Black Pyramid holds the thankless honour to close off the festival after Sleep. Their psychedelic brand of metal sounds good, but honestly, Sleep is still stuck in my head. Judging from the size of the crowd, many people have decided to head home early, but not us. We stayed until the bitter end.

On monday morning, to my great joy, the headache remained absent and I was feeling relatively fresh. I was looking forward to my own shower and couch, not necessarily in that order, so I was packed and ready to go in no time. My friends had some more difficulties to get their motor running, so we ended up getting brunch at one of the countless Panos sandwich bars in the city. Of course, we ran into some familiar faces there. Going over the weekend, we could all agree it was a festival with many highlights and next to no low points. Another one for the books. Why can't all festivals be like Desertfest? I'm not being melancholic, I'm seriously asking.

[accidentally-a-writer]

Oh man oh boy oh man, lookit all that glorious whump!. Can I get a uhh.... Prisoner Exchange? And possibly a side of Hiding an Injury? >:3c

Washington stared into the eyes Alexander Hamilton and felt his heart crack. 

The boy stood calmly, his hands raised in surrender and facial expression perfectly schooled into a cool impasse. Everything about his countenance displayed that he was unaffected by the pistol being jammed into his head, but Washington knew better. Alexander was terrified. 

They’d been in battle for four days, little progress being made by either side. Their only fortune had been that few of his men had been wounded and that on the third day of battles the opposing general’s aide-de-camp had been wounded and captured on the battlefield. 

Washington knew that the war had descended into guerrilla warfare at this point, he knew that the British were going to want retribution. He should have known to keep his ex-aide-de-camp close. 

Hamilton had quit his staff only a month ago, in favour of being on the battlefield instead. The British had heard of him, evidently, but not known of his resignation. After capturing the opposition’s aide they fought for one more day before both forces pulled back. It was only later that Lafayette had rushed into Washington’s tent, babbling about how they couldn’t find Hamilton anywhere. 

Washington was immediately up and helping them scour the battlefield for any sign of the boy (or a body, but he had pushed that possibility away almost immediately). 

Lafayette had been with him when the dirty and dishevelled redcoat had made his way out of the bushes towards them. Lafayette’s gun was immediately raised and aimed as he shouted orders in French to the boy. 

He was just a messenger, and he came with a message for General Washington. Washington took it, his eyes scanning the letter rapidly.

Washington’s worst fear had been confirmed; the British had Alexander Hamilton in their clutches. The aide-de-camp of a high-ranking army official was a valuable hostage, as they were usually depended on by their employer, and had information about the war a regular soldier wouldn’t. 

But Alexander wasn’t his aide, not anymore. Washington had no doubt in his mind that if this piece of information was learned Alexander would be killed on the spot. 

An aide for an aide, as the letter proposed. He agreed and sent the messenger away.

So there they were the next morning, staring at each other from opposite sides of an untouched clearing in the middle of the dense forest. 

Washington had brought Lafayette, his (current) aide Laurens, Aaron Burr, and a few foot soldiers. The numbers on the other side were much the same, to the general’s relief. 

But there were not holding their captive by gunpoint. 

Laurens and Lafayette gave an enraged shout, restrained only by Burr’s gentle placating (and his physically holding them back). If Washington was honest, he wanted to do exactly the same thing. 

The British general, Washington didn’t know his name, smirked and tilted his head towards Washington, beckoning him forward. Furrowing his brow in confusion, Washington complied. 

He and the general met about halfway across the field. Both sides were tense against their guns but dared not aim for fear of hitting their own general. 

“I’ve adhered to the terms of this barbaric exchange of yours,” Washington said in lieu of a greeting. “I’ve young Mr.Holt, you have my-”

“Former aide?” The general smirked at the quick flash of shock on Washington’s face. “Yes, we realized too late that no aide of yours would be on the battlefield. You’re far too protective of them.” 

“He’s just a boy,” Washington grit out, his fist involuntarily clenching at his side. “You are regaining your aide nevertheless, a deal is a deal.” 

“Well it begs the question; why would George Washington agree to this trade if he had nothing to gain from it but a foot soldier?” The general raked his eyes up and down Washington’s form like a vulture. “You bear no resemblance to the boy, so he isn’t a bastard of yours, he holds no rank nor property, unlike le Marquis de Lafayette.” The general’s gaze found Lafayette and Washington felt his rage burn a bit stronger. 

“Enough.” 

“Touchy, touchy, General Washington.” 

“You have me at a disadvantage.” 

“I’ve you at several,” he gloated. “My name would not be the most forefront concern if I were you.”

“Give me Officer Hamilton, now.” It was George’s turn to smirk as his adversary took an unconscious step back. He was George Washington for a reason. 

The general regained himself and his taunting smirk. “How much is he worth to you?” 

“We had a deal…”

“Yes, an aide for an aide, but I’m not giving you an aide, am I?” Frustrated, Washington’s hand was shooting for his pistol before he could think to stop himself. Washington could hear the men on both sides frantically doing the same, but the man opposite him didn’t move. “Careful Washington, make sure you take a long look at that boy if you’re going to do that, he’ll have a bullet in his skull shortly after.” 

Grinding his teeth together Washington surrendered his hands, spreading his palms face up and away from the pistol. His men slowly lowered their own weapons. 

“Release Mr.Hamilton, and I release Mr.Holt. I’m sure even the British have honour, don’t they?”  

“More than a band of traitors does, I suppose. But what if I refuse, hm?” Washington felt his blood freeze. “What if I decide I’d rather not let him go?” 

Forcing himself to keep an even voice George replied, “then I order my men to shoot your aide-de-camp.” 

“A shame, yes, he does good work for me, but I think I can live with that.” 

“What game are you playing,” Washington hissed, his fist clenching and unclenching once more. 

“I wanted to see the great George Washington squirm, and you have satisfied me. I knew, when we discovered young Mr.Hamilton was no longer your aide and yet you still agreed to the trade that you cared for him. The extent of that care however, I could not predict. Very interesting, General Washington…” 

Washington said nothing, not willing to disagree and not willing to give this man any more leverage. 

“But I suppose the game is up.” The general smiled, it unsettled Washington; something else was afoot, something he felt with trepidation. 

Lazily, he waved for the man to bring Hamilton towards them. Washington, in turn, gave the signal that his man may release Holt. Hamilton reached the pair first. He was close enough that Washington could reach out and touch him. 

Roughly the general ripped Washington’s former aide from his underling’s grasp. Hamilton cried out at the rough handling, and once again Washington felt his heart crack. His adversary unsheathed his dagger, languidly placing it at Alexander’s throat.

“There’s no need for that,” George placated, outstretching his hands, behind him his men shifted nervously. “Your man will be joining us in but a few moments. I promise he has not been harmed by my men, and his wounds were dressed back at my camp.” Holt reached the group, to Washington’s relief. “See? Now please, release Officer Hamilton.” 

Washington watched as the general looked his aide up and down, before moving his mouth next to Hamilton’s ear and beginning to whisper something. Alexander’s eyes widened.

“Your Excellency-!” The sound of gunfire filled the clearing and the world exploded into chaos. 

Holt’s body collapsed next to Washington, and his blood splattered both him and Hamilton. Both of the generals’ men were shouting, and some were firing, and Washington hadn’t even drawn his pistol yet. 

Hamilton elbowed the general and twisted in his captor’s grip, twisting his arm to an unnatural angle until he heard a snap. The general cried out, drowning out Alexander’s own sharp cry of pain. By then Washington had come to his senses and drawn his pistol, firing at the redcoat who had held the gun to Hamilton’s head, the only one who still had a loaded gun. The minion dropped, and Alexander had broken his captor’s arm so that it hung uselessly next to him. 

His gun spent, and his arm in excruciating pain, the redcoat general could do nothing but watch as Washington grabbed Hamilton and pulled them away from the fighting, to the edge of the clearing. 

Washington’s men flocked around them, all yelling and hurrying about trying to reload their guns. Where the British had obviously been expecting this, none of his men had thought they’d be fighting today. Laurens rushed towards the pair, his eyes shining with worry. 

“Were either of you hit?” 

“No, he aimed for his own soldier,” Washington panted, still gripping Alexander close to him. He gave the boy a once over and discovered for the first time the amount of blood staining his uniform. “Hamilton the blood-”

“Not mine,” the boy gasped, his eye never leaving the progress on the field. “We need to get His Excellency to safety, they intend to either arrest or kill him.” As an afterthought, the boy added, “And I wouldn’t exactly be opposed to having this ordeal over and done with.” 

Laurens nodded frantically, wrenching them towards a cleared path. “If you run this path you should reach the camp within half-an-hour. We can hold them back long enough for that.” 

Hamilton nodded and before Washington could object he was off. It wasn’t long before Washington noticed Alexander was faltering. 

“Hamilton, stop!” The fact that Hamilton actually obeyed the command was a testament to how hurt he must be. “You’re injured, aren’t you?” 

The boy turned towards him, his abdomen slick in blood. It seeped through his uniform and onto the soldier’s hand, which was desperately clutching the wound. 

It was then that George remembered that the general had had a knife when Alexander had tried to escape him. 

“Sweet Mother of God, Hamilton, why didn’t you say anything?” There was a lump forming in Washington’s throat, he desperately swallowed it and rushed to his boy. 

“We ne’, need to get you t’ s’fety,” Hamilton slurred in lieu of an answer. 

“Christ sakes, Alexander.” Washington was angry. How dare Alexander do this? He would not have this boy die because he was too damn loyal for his own bloody good. 

Hamilton’s legs buckled, but Washington was there to catch him; they had to get to safety before they could address any wounds. If his men couldn’t hold back the opposing soldiers and both he and Hamilton were caught, they’d both be killed for certain. 

Hamilton pushed at Washington, trying to get him away from his body. Whether he was descending into delirium or suggesting that Washington leave him, he didn’t know. Washington was sure that there was no force in Heaven or Hell that would make him do the latter. 

Still cradling the boy in his arm he ran, and ran, and ran. Blood was still seeping through Alexander’s fingers, blossoming over his stomach like a bed of petals. 

The general might have cried in relief when he saw the camp come into view, closer… closer… closer… 

but Hamilton was drifting farther… farther… farther… 

[sitinthelight]

Well Zach is in his hometown for a few days and I’m in this weird restless mood while being super tired at the exact same time. 

I want to go drinking and I want to dance. Actually, I mostly just want to dance.  I want to be happy and so fucking giddy that I’m out of my mind and care free and just be in that moment when nothing matters so I’m going to have a good time.

Do you ever have a conversation and you realize hmmm, I probably shouldn’t have said that because now it’s weird? I mean, that’s kind of every extended conversation I have with anyone but still.

I kind of want to punch myself in the face (((: but at the same time, I want to go dancing, so? 

I am not going to beat myself up over this! I refuse to! You know, I have gotten so much better about feeling guilty over everything! And I was being vulnerable! So bonus points, right? 

Anyway, I’m friends with my ex. I guess we’ve become good friends in the past several months. He asked me if I still was planning to move to Charlotte and of course my whole situation is convoluted (in my mind) so I was like, can I explain it to you over skye because I didn’t feel like talking about it through text. 

Jesus, I have no idea how anyone deals with me and talking to me because words don’t come out of my mouth correctly? Like in my head I’m just like this is what I will say! But when it comes out of my mouth it’s like scrabble with words. Have fun rearranging my sentence and guessing what I’m trying to say! AND I SAID NOT TO BEAT MYSELF UP. I will learn how to talk to people one day, I swear. 

SO, we’re skyping and he finally gets me to start talking about the situation at hand and I’m explaining the developments in some sort of way and telling him my options. I then proceed to kind of casually mention my hesitation of moving to a new place with Zach because I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be with him. AND boy oh boy oh boy, why did I mention that? To my ex. 

Granted, he took it well. He is probably used to my awkwardness by now so I’m guessing that helps and he was very nice and understanding about it and didn’t ask any further questions and I don’t even remember what I said after that.

But I’m kind of mortified. 

Btw, I was finally emailed the new leasing terms for my apartment as this current lease ends in July. The new rent will be nearly $1000 and I’m just in shock that they put it up that high out of seemingly no where? With no justification. This is a nice place, I have been very fortunate to have been able to live here for the past 2 years but fuck that. I’m going to start paying my own rent in July and I’m not spending that much money on rent in fucking Winston Salem. Literally, the only other apartments in this area that are that expensive are the fancy luxury ones downtown. 

Is $1000 a month normal in other cities or even considered a steal for a 2 bedroom 2 bath? Oh absolutely, but this is Winston Salem. I was told that the price I’ve been paying this past year was way too high but this extra $150 is just head-scratching. How? Why? What on earth. I know Charlotte is worse but like, this isn’t Charlotte. 

Yikes can I go on a tangent. Anywayyyyy, yes. I am mortified. Yep yep yep yep yep. Always saying a little toooooo much to people who don’t really need to know that much. Is he a good friend? yes. But he is also my ex and he doesn’t need shit like that dumped on him as I’m sure he has his own problems to deal with.

But it’s been done. It has been said. He was nice about it! I will let this feeling happen for as long as it needs to and then I will resume normal business. I will apologize in the morning and it will be fine. He’ll be cool about it like he always is.

However, there is some adrenaline in my system right now. Like, my mind is going wwwoooooosh all over the place. 

I always used to be on my toes around my ex, even during the month and a half we dated. Even during everything that happened after that. He gave me soooo much social anxiety. I once held my pee in for like 4 hours hanging out with him because I was too afraid to move or say I had to go to the bathroom. But Jesus, I reallyyyyy liked him and I wanted to get to know him better and whelp, it’s several years later and I finally am getting over my social anxiety with him. Talking to him regularly has definitely helped. 

Honestly, my social anxiety hasn’t been bad lately. I’m still reluctant to make phone calls, except at work. I’m doing so much better with calling people at work. That used to be my most hated task at the bookstore. I hated calling customers to give them bad news about their orders. I always tried to send out emails instead. 

But I’ve been chatty with my coworkers and trying to establish “bonds” with them. Dave and Busters opened in the mall so I’m trying to slowly and low-key convince my coworker to go with me. She’s pretty cool. We actually have a lot in common but sadly we are both awkward introverts so it’s taken a year of working with each other to finally figure that out. 

The coworker I really wanted to be friends with quit. I feel like we could have been pretty good friends because we have SO much in common and she definitely tried getting to know me on multiple occasions but my personality can be so unforgiving. I act uninterested in fear of being overly interested and IT IS FUCKING GREAT ((((((:

It’s also very possible that I may have had a tiny crush on her. Not like an OMG I AM OBSESSED WITH THIS PERSON type of crush.  More like, she’s cute and quirky and I really think she’s cool but I have a boyfriend so these thoughts will stay subdued. 

But I haven’t really felt socially anxious lately? And that’s been great. It makes my world a smidge more easier. Depression though? Still here. Always lurking. Always waiting for a moment to strike. The nice weather helps so much though. I’m still weighing pros and cons of medication and therapy in my current situation. I definitely want to put a lot more research and thought into it before I make any decisions. I just know that I want to be on some proper treatment path before seasonal depression hits again. 

You know, I have the day off tomorrow. Originally I was going to stay in for most of the day. I was going to leave to pick up a package from the front office (because I bought the most  “me” shoes ever”), but now I’m debating actually going out and doing something. 

I kind of want to go downtown. That’s so far been my favorite part of this city. There is a brewery/bar that makes an amazing vegetarian burger and though I’m not vegetarian, it’s a fucking amazing burger. Right next to that brewery is a really cool store that sells local items and they have a huge selection of vintage clothes! I walked in out of curiosity a few weeks ago and fell in love with the atmosphere and just the general vibe of the place. 

I’m now considering this because I just got an email (who sends emails after midnight?) from the metaphysical store downtown. There is apparently going to be a flash sale and while I don’t need new crystals, they had some really cool ones last time I was in there and hey, maybe this is the time to pick some new ones up. 

This is all just a late night and too tired to be alive fever dream though. Honestly, I’ll probably just stay in but one of these days, I’ll do something fun. When I finally get this driving thing down, I’ll have as many fun days as I want because it just sounds like a hassle getting an uber there and back and walking around downtown (which is huge and not every street is entirely safe) by myself. Like the crystal store. It’s really only a ten minute walk but I’m a chicken, okay? I’ve never dealt with so many creeps in my life in any other city as I have here. Did that sentence even make sense? Probably not, I don’t care. 

BUT I MIGHT SEE SUPERORGANISM SUNDAY. SO THAT WILL BE FUN.

I’m really hoping Zach will be up for it. I’m praying he will be. I really really really want to go. I’ve become so fond of this band. I’d be so happy to see them live. Also the venue is in a former mid-century car dealership so I’m dying to see it. Zach is the only person whose been around me often enough to know this but I LOVE mid-century modern design and architecture. 

I also want a reason to wear fun make up and dress up. Like, this is an excuse to use crazy eyeshadow and glitter because the band is fairly eccentric. 

We’ll see though. Zach was supposed to be driving back Saturday evening but his dad bought tickets to see some musician (Bob...S...something) in Virginia for Saturday evening so he’ll be driving back Sunday morning instead :/ It’s like a 4 hour drive from there to here so I don’t know if he’ll have the energy or motivation to drive 1.5 hours to Durham for a band he is only mildly interested in. 

I really should just stay in tomorrow though. I could really use the time to answer the essay questions for my application for school and answer back to the advisor (that they already assigned me?). He just wants to go over the program details with me because it is a bit rigorous. I’m up for the challenge though. I need something productive to occupy my time with and I’ve had a good break these past 2 years.

[animelife58-blog]

Front-Row Seat: Bull-dog Ring alums, get ready to reunite

Care, Honeoye alumni: Be prepared to take this clarinet from its instance or dust away from your old sax abilities? There is the most useful of all chances beforehand.

 Honeoye Central School group alumni concerts are intended for 20-19: a alumni jazz concert March two at Small Lakes Community Center at Hemlock (that creation of alumni understands as the older Hemlock school), along with also an alumni concert band concert June 7 at the Honeoye Central School auditorium.

Senior school group teacher Grace (Helling) Wood was coordinating and directing alumni band awards every five or two years like 2003. She'd seen lots of Honeoye grads move on in to musical professions because she began teaching at Honeoye at 1987 -- but additionally realized that"an even far more essential aim of this system ought to be to create a lifelong enjoyment (and sometimes by having an informed ear) and really love it," she composed in a reaction to some Messenger query.

"with the help of our newest auditorium, something we had in Honeoye, '' 

I presumed it'd be cool with alumni concert to get numerous reasons to remind individuals about how amazing these music memories were, to remind us all of the ways integral music is at our lifetimes and also to try the new center," she added.

You can see my more article here: foreigner music

Wood decided to distance out the lunches every five decades or thereabouts, to avert they are losing their"flicker or freshness" if done within a yearly event.

Plus they will have been a winner, together with musicians and listeners.

"Great feedback in the participants and community!" Wood wrote. "Many declare they have been rusty, many opinions the way that it is a fantastic feeling to return chilled inside the music by the interior the outfit. I only need them to come back and talk about with the music along with the memories. We've had a tremendous turnout for all these concerts that comprised pupils from kindergarten courses as soon as the 60's also included former group directors from within the years."

This past Year, she included a jazz band concert at the combination at the Hemlock place -- using a Soldout audience, as several alumni as ordinary pupils acting, and alumni requesting to take action this season

"I'm not sure we'll maintain up the every year item, however also the students have a blast watching, learning and listening out of the alumni and the alumni receive a kick out of meeting with the students and watching what they can do in their own older days! It's simply a wonderful sense; an experience/feeling maybe not readily put in words."

Located at a barring in Santa Monica from the mid-1990s, 

the rockers in medieval Storm got his big break aboard a doomed luxury liner. On the large screen, anyway: Discovered with means of a picture manufacturer, these were asked to seem since the steerage band in just a tiny picture you might have known about, "Titanic."

Their livelihood since has found them high the Billboard World Chart six-times and regularly headlining enormous Irish festivals in addition to emerging in mainstream music festivals together with their music which places their twist on Celtic heritage.

[blackkudos]

Ahmad Jamal

Ahmad Jamal (born Frederick Russell Jones, July 2, 1930) is an American jazz pianist, composer, bandleader, and educator. For five decades, he has been one of the most successful small-group leaders in jazz.

Biography

Early life

Jamal was born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. He began playing piano at the age of three, when his uncle Lawrence challenged him to duplicate what he was doing on the piano. Jamal began formal piano training at the age of seven with Mary Cardwell Dawson, whom he describes as greatly influencing him. His Pittsburgh roots have remained an important part of his identity ("Pittsburgh meant everything to me and it still does," he said in 2001) and it was there that he was immersed in the influence of jazz artists such as Earl Hines, Billy Strayhorn, Mary Lou Williams, and Erroll Garner. Jamal also studied with pianist James Miller and began playing piano professionally at the age of fourteen, at which point he was recognized as a "coming great" by the pianist Art Tatum. When asked about his practice habits by a New York Times critic, Jamal commented that, "I used to practice and practice with the door open, hoping someone would come by and discover me. I was never the practitioner in the sense of twelve hours a day, but I always thought about music. I think about music all the time."

Beginnings and conversion to Islam

Jamal began touring with George Hudson's Orchestra after graduating from George Westinghouse High School in 1948. He joined another touring group known as The Four Strings, which soon disbanded when the violinist, Joe Kennedy. Jr., left. He moved to Chicago in 1950 (where he legally changed his name to Ahmad Jamal), and played on and off with local musicians such as saxophonists Von Freeman and Claude McLin, as well as performing solo at the Palm Tavern, occasionally joined by drummer Ike Day.

Born to Baptist parents in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, Jamal did not discover Islam until his early 20s. While touring in Detroit (where there was a sizable Muslim community in the 1940s and 1950s), Jamal became interested in Islam and Islamic culture. He converted to Islam and changed his name to Ahmad Jamal in 1950. In an interview with The New York Times a few years later, Jamal said his decision to change his name stemmed from a desire to "re-establish my original name." Shortly after his conversion to Islam, Jamal explained to The New York Times that he "says Muslim prayers five times a day and arises in time to say his first prayers at 5 am. He says them in Arabic in keeping with the Muslim tradition."

He made his first sides in 1951 for the Okeh label with The Three Strings (which would later also be called the Ahmad Jamal Trio, although Jamal himself prefers not to use the term "trio"): the other members were guitarist Ray Crawford and a bassist, at different times Eddie Calhoun (1950–52), Richard Davis (1953–54), and Israel Crosby (from 1954). The Three Strings arranged an extended engagement at Chicago's Blue Note, but leapt to fame after performing at the Embers in New York City where John Hammond saw the band play and signed them to Okeh Records. Hammond, a record producer who discovered the talents and enhanced the fame of musicians like Benny Goodman, Billie Holiday, and Count Basie, also helped Jamal's trio attract critical acclaim. Jamal subsequently recorded for Parrot (1953–55) and Epic (1955) using the piano-guitar-bass lineup.

At the Pershing: But Not For Me

The trio's sound changed significantly when Crawford was replaced with drummer Vernel Fournier in 1957, and the group worked as the "House Trio" at Chicago's Pershing Hotel. The trio released the live album, Live at the Pershing: But Not For Me, which stayed on the Ten Best-selling charts for 108 weeks. Jamal's well known song "Poinciana" was first released on this album.

Perhaps Jamal's most famous recording and undoubtedly the one that brought him vast popularity in the late 1950s and into the 1960s jazz age, At the Pershing was recorded at the Pershing Hotel in Chicago in 1958. Jamal played the set with bassist Israel Crosby and drummer Vernel Fournier. The set list expressed a diverse collection of tunes, including "The Surrey with the Fringe On Top" from the musical Oklahoma! and Jamal's arrangement of the jazz standard "Poinciana". Jazz musicians and listeners alike found inspiration in the At the Pershing recording, and Jamal's trio was recognized as an integral new building block in the history of jazz. Evident were his unusually minimalist style and his extended vamps, according to reviewer John Morthland. "If you're looking for an argument that pleasurable mainstream art can assume radical status at the same time, Jamal is your guide," said The New York Times contributor Ben Ratliff in a review of the album.

After the recording of the best-selling album But Not For Me, Jamal's music grew in popularity throughout the 1950s, and he attracted media coverage for his investment decisions pertaining to his "rising fortune". In 1959, he took a tour of North Africa to explore investment options in Africa. Jamal, who was twenty-nine at the time, said he had a curiosity about the homeland of his ancestors, highly influenced by his conversion to the Muslim faith. He also said his religion had brought him peace of mind about his race, which accounted for his "growth in the field of music that has proved very lucrative for me." Upon his return to the U.S. after a tour of North Africa, the financial success of Live at the Pershing: But Not For Me allowed Jamal to open a restaurant and club called The Alhambra in Chicago. In 1962, The Three Strings disbanded and Jamal moved to New York City, where, at the age of 32, he took a three-year hiatus from his musical career.

Return to music and The Awakening

In 1964, Jamal resumed touring and recording, this time with the bassist Jamil Nasser and recorded a new album, Extensions, in 1965. Jamal and Nasser continued to play and record together from 1964 to 1972. He also joined forces with Fournier (again, but only for about a year) and drummer Frank Gant (1966–76), among others. Until 1970, he played acoustic piano exclusively. The final album on which he played acoustic piano in the regular sequence was The Awakening. In the 1970s, he played electric piano as well. It was rumored that the Rhodes piano was a gift from someone in Switzerland. He continued to play throughout the 1970s and 1980s, mostly in trios with piano, bass and drums, but he occasionally expanded the group to include guitar. One of his most long-standing gigs was as the band for the New Year's Eve celebrations at Blues Alley in Washington, D.C., from 1979 through the 1990s.

Later career

In 1986, Jamal sued critic Leonard Feather for using his former name in a publication.

Clint Eastwood featured two recordings from Jamal's But Not For Me album — "Music, Music, Music" and "Poinciana" — in the 1995 movie The Bridges of Madison County.

Now in his eighties, Ahmad Jamal has continued to make numerous tours and recordings. His most recently released albums are Saturday Morning (2013), and the CD/DVD release Ahmad Jamal Featuring Yusef Lateef Live at L'Olympia (2014).

Jamal is the main mentor of jazz piano virtuosa Hiromi Uehara, known as Hiromi.

Style and influence

Trained in both traditional jazz ("American classical music", as he prefers to call it) and European classical style, Ahmad Jamal has been praised as one of the greatest jazz innovators over his exceptionally long career. Following bebop greats like Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie, Jamal entered the world of jazz at a time when speed and virtuosic improvisation were central to the success of jazz musicians as artists. Jamal, however, took steps in the direction of a new movement, later coined "cool jazz" – an effort to move jazz in the direction of popular music. He emphasized space and time in his musical compositions and interpretations instead of focusing on the blinding speed of bebop.

Because of this style, Jamal was "often dismissed by jazz writers as no more than a cocktail pianist, a player so given to fluff that his work shouldn't be considered seriously in any artistic sense". Stanley Crouch, author of Considering Genius, offers a very different reaction to Jamal's music, claiming that, like the highly influential Thelonious Monk, Jamal was a true innovator of the jazz tradition and is second in importance in the development of jazz after 1945 only to Parker. His unique musical style stemmed from many individual characteristics, including his use of orchestral effects and his ability to control the beat of songs. These stylistic choices resulted in a unique and new sound for the piano trio: "Through the use of space and changes of rhythm and tempo", writes Crouch, "Jamal invented a group sound that had all the surprise and dynamic variation of an imaginatively ordered big band." Jamal explored the texture of riffs, timbres, and phrases rather than the quantity or speed of notes in any given improvisation. Speaking about Jamal, A. B. Spellman of the National Endowment of the Arts said: "Nobody except Thelonious Monk used space better, and nobody ever applied the artistic device of tension and release better." These (at the time) unconventional techniques that Jamal gleaned from both traditional classical and contemporary jazz musicians helped pave the way for later jazz greats like Bill Evans, Herbie Hancock, and McCoy Tyner.

Though Jamal is often overlooked by jazz critics and historians, he is frequently credited with having a great influence on Miles Davis. Davis is quoted as saying that he was impressed by Jamal's rhythmic sense and his "concept of space, his lightness of touch, his understatement". Jamal characterizes what he thought Davis admired about his music as: "my discipline as opposed to my space." Jamal and Davis became friends in the 1950s, and Davis continued to support Jamal as a fellow musician, often playing versions of Jamal's own songs ("Ahmad's Blues", "New Rhumba") until he died in 1991.

Jamal, speaking about his own work says, "I like doing ballads. They're hard to play. It takes years of living, really, to read them properly." From an early age, Jamal developed an appreciation for the lyrics of the songs he learned: "I once heard Ben Webster playing his heart out on a ballad. All of a sudden he stopped. I asked him, 'Why did you stop, Ben?' He said, 'I forgot the lyrics.'" Jamal attributes the variety in his musical taste to the fact that he grew up in several eras: the big band era, the bebop years, and the electronic age. He says his style evolved from drawing on the techniques and music produced in these three eras. In 1985, Jamal agreed to do an interview and recording session with his fellow jazz pianist, Marian McPartland on her NPR show Piano Jazz. Jamal, who said he rarely plays "But Not For Me" due to its popularity since his 1958 recording, played an improvised version of the tune – though only after noting that he has moved on to making ninety percent of his repertoire his own compositions. He said that when he grew in popularity from the Live at the Pershing album, he was severely criticized afterwards for not playing any of his own compositions.

In more recent years, Jamal has embraced the electronic influences affecting the genre of jazz. He has also occasionally expanded his usual small ensemble of three to include a tenor saxophone (George Coleman) and a violin. A jazz fan interviewed by Down Beat magazine about Jamal in 2010 described his development as "more aggressive and improvisational these days. The word I used to use is avant garde; that might not be right. Whatever you call it, the way he plays is the essence of what jazz is."

Saxophonist Ted Nash, a longtime member of the Lincoln Center Orchestra, had the opportunity to play with Jamal in 2008 for Jazz at Lincoln Center. Nash described his experience with Jamal's style in an interview with Down Beat magazine: "The way he comped wasn't the generic way that lots of pianists play with chords in the middle of the keyboard, just filling things up. He gave lots of single line responses. He'd come back and throw things out at you, directly from what you played. It was really interesting because it made you stop, and allowed him to respond, and then you felt like playing something else – that's something I don't feel with a lot of piano players. It's really quite engaging. I guess that's another reason people focus in on him. He makes them hone in [sic]."

Bands and personnel

Jamal typically plays with a bassist and drummer: his current trio is with bassist Reginald Veal and drummer Herlin Riley. He has also performed with percussionist Manolo Badrena. Jamal has recorded with the voices of the Howard A. Roberts Chorale on The Bright, the Blue and the Beautiful and Cry Young; with vibraphonist Gary Burton on In Concert; with brass, reeds, and strings celebrating his hometown of Pittsburgh; with The Assai Quartet; and with saxophonist George Coleman on the album The Essence.

Awards and honors

1959: Entertainment Award, Pittsburgh Junior Chamber of Commerce

1980: Distinguished Service Award, City of Washington D.C., Anacostia Neighborhood Museum, Smithsonian Institution

1981: Nomination, Best R&B Instrumental Performance ("You're Welcome", "Stop on By"), NARAS

1986: Mellon Jazz Festival Salutes Ahmad Jamal, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

1987: Honorary Membership, Philippines Jazz Foundation

1994: American Jazz Masters award, National Endowment for the Arts

2001: Arts & Culture Recognition Award, National Coalition of 100 Black Women

2001: Kelly-Strayhorn Gallery of Stars, for Achievements as Pianist and Composer, East Liberty Quarter Chamber of Commerce

2003: American Jazz Hall of Fame, New Jersey Jazz Society

2003: Gold Medallion, Steinway & Sons 150 Years Celebration (1853–2003)

2007: Living Jazz Legend, Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts

2007: Ordre des Arts et des Lettres, French government

2011: Down Beat Hall of Fame, 76th Readers Poll

2015: Honorary Doctorate of Music, The New England Conservatory

Discography

As leader

1951: Ahmad's Blues (Okeh)

1955: Ahmad Jamal Plays (Parrot) – also released as Chamber Music of the New Jazz (Argo)

1955: The Ahmad Jamal Trio (Epic)

1956: Count 'Em 88 (Argo)

1958: At the Pershing: But Not for Me (Argo)

1958: At the Pershing, Vol. 2 (Argo)

1958: Ahmad Jamal Trio Volume IV (Argo)

1958: Portfolio of Ahmad Jamal (Argo)

1959: The Piano Scene of Ahmad Jamal (Epic)

1959: Jamal at the Penthouse (Argo)

1960: Happy Moods (Argo)

1960: Listen to the Ahmad Jamal Quintet (Argo)

1961: All of You (Argo)

1961: Ahmad Jamal's Alhambra (Argo)

1962: Ahmad Jamal at the Blackhawk (Argo)

1962: Macanudo (Argo)

1963: Poinciana (Argo)

1964: Naked City Theme (Argo)

1965: The Roar of the Greasepaint (Argo)

1965: Extensions (Argo)

1966: Rhapsody (Cadet)

1966: Heat Wave (Cadet)

1967: Cry Young (Cadet)

1968: The Bright, the Blue and the Beautiful (Cadet)

1968: Tranquility (ABC)

1968: Ahmad Jamal at the Top: Poinciana Revisited (Impulse!)

1970: The Awakening (Impulse!)

1971: Freeflight (Impulse!)

1972: Outertimeinnerspace (Impulse!)

1973: Ahmad Jamal '73 (20th Century)

1974: Jamalca (20th Century)

1974: Jamal Plays Jamal (20th Century)

1975: Genetic Walk (20th Century)

1976: Steppin' Out with a Dream (20th Century)

1976: Recorded Live at Oil Can Harry's (Catalyst)

1978: One (20th Century)

1980: Intervals (20th Century)

1980: Live at Bubba's (Who's Who in Jazz)

1980: Night Song (Motown)

1981: In Concert (Personal Choice Records)

1982: American Classical Music (Shubra)

1985: Digital Works (Atlantic)

1985: Live at the Montreal Jazz Festival 1985 (Atlantic)

1986: Rossiter Road (Atlantic)

1987: Crystal (Atlantic)

1989: Pittsburgh (Atlantic)

1992: Live in Paris 1992 (Birdology)

1992: Chicago Revisited (Telarc)

1994: I Remember Duke, Hoagy & Strayhorn (Telarc)

1994: Ahmad Jamal with The Assai Quartet (Roesch)

1994: Ahmad Jamal at Home (Roesch)

1995: The Essence Part One (Birdology)

1995: Big Byrd: The Essence Part 2 (Birdology)

1996: Live in Paris 1996 (Birdology)

1997: Nature: The Essence Part Three (Birdology)

2000: Picture Perfect

2001: Ahmad Jamal à l'Olympia

2003: In Search of Momentum

2005: After Fajr

2008: It's Magic

2008: Poinciana – One Night Only

2009: A Quiet Time

2012: Blue Moon (Jazzbook)

2013: Saturday Morning (Jazzbook)

2014: Ahmad Jamal featuring Yusef Lateef, Live at L'Olympia. 2012 — 2 CDs/1 DVD (Jazzbook/Bose/Jazz Village)

2017: Marseille (Jazz Village)

Compilations

1967: Standard Eyes (Cadet)

1972: Inspiration (Cadet)

1974: Re-evaluations: The Impulse! Years (Impulse!)

1980: The Best of Ahmad Jamal (20th Century)

1998: Ahmad Jamal 1956–66 Recordings

1998: Cross Country Tour 1958–1961 (GRP/Chess)

2005: The Legendary Okeh & Epic Recordings (1951–1955) (Columbia Legacy)

2007: Complete Live at the Pershing Lounge 1958 (Gambit)

2007: Complete Live at the Spotlite Club 1958 (Gambit)

As sideman

With Ray Brown

Some of My Best Friends Are...The Piano Players (Telarc, 1994)

With Shirley Horn

May the Music Never End (Verve, 2003)

Wikipedia

[recentanimenews]

Bookshelf Briefs 8/26/21

Captivated, By You | By Yama Wayama | Yen Press – A collection of short stories that originally ran in the magazine Comic Beam, they all take place around the same school and feature some of the same cast intermingling with each other, but each can also be read as a standalone. This is not a BL title, but I’d say it’s BL-adjacent, and there are several relationships that you could see going that way. My favorites included a social media relationship done via cut-out “kidnapper” letters, a man trying to reinvent himself in high school… as the creepy dude everyone avoids, and a bullied kid trying to get petty revenge on his bully but being unable to because he’s too decent a person at heart. The stories vary in quality, but the collection overall is very nice. – Sean Gaffney

Days on Fes, Vol. 2 | By Kanato Oka | Yen Press This continues to hit at what it does best, showing off how awesome it can be to go to a music festival. You can hear things you’d never even knew existed, and you might even run into the singer of your favorite band incognito inside the crowd. Will romantic sparks fly?? Well, probably not, because honestly our two girls seem to be really into each other—as with Captivated, By You, this is not yuri or BL but it is yuri and BL-adjacent, as each pair of leads makes an awesome couple but isn’t actually one. If there’s one complaint it’s that so far this is almost entirely on the fan side of things. There’s a suggestion that might change, as we do get a few pages of one band, but I’d like to see more actual music—and more struggles. -Sean Gaffney

Happy Kanako’s Killer Life, Vol. 1 | By Toshiya Wakabayashi | Seven Seas – This is a black, black comedy, and if you find the idea of a happy-go-lucky girl killing people appalling, best to skip it. That said, if you do like black comedy, it’s wonderful. Kanako is an OL who just quit her job and finds that the new one she answered the ad for… is a hit man. Her first target… is her old boss. And she’s really good at killing people. Plus, it’s got great pay, and you get to go out and have meat and alcohol afterwards. Oh yes, and the book is filled with weird animal puns—and the animals appear behind Kanako as she says them, so the translation must have been FUN. This isn’t for everyone, but it’s gleefully silly and dark as hell, as you watch Kanako sink further and further to the dark side. – Sean Gaffney

Kaguya-sama: Love Is War, Vol. 20 | By Aka Akasaka | Viz Media – It’s Valentine’s Day, and as you can imagine that means different things to different people in this book. We also find out that Maki is actually one of the most respected students on campus… it’s just we’ve only ever seen her reflected through her hilarious unrequited love, so we don’t get it (and neither do the main cast). Also, exam results are out, which means that Ishigami gets to show off the results of Kaguya’s tutoring… and Shirogane, who’s dropped to twelfth because he’s narrowing his focus to studying English for Stanford. Believe me, there’s still plenty of silliness, mostly from Fujiwara, but the characters are beginning to grow up and throw off the shackles of the past… or have it done for them. – Sean Gaffney

Komi Can’t Communicate, Vol. 14 | By Tomohito Oda | Viz Media – Sometimes this series has a long-running arc, and sometimes it just coasts along on pure cute. This volume is one of the latter, and it is very, very cute indeed, which is the main reason people are reading the title, but does make things a bit difficult to pick out to review. Komi and Tadano remain the best couple who aren’t one, and everyone can see it. Manbagi is also clearly very much in denial about her own crush on Tadano, and I anticipate the next arc will be dealing with that. Najimi remains obnoxious but fun, Yamai remains obnoxious and not fun. If you’ve enjoyed other volumes, this is an obvious one to get. And it sure is cute, isn’t it? – Sean Gaffney

Medalist, Vols. 1-2 | By Tsurumaikada | Kodansha Comics (digital only) – Even if the story in this series weren’t great, I’d likely still be recommending it solely based on the art, which is frequently stunning, and has beautifully characterized expressions. Fortunately, the story is also excellent. A former ice dancer who was never quite able to go pro discovers a young girl who is trying desperately, despite her mother’s misgivings, to be an Olympic figure skater. Like a lot of lead girls in this sort of series, she’s not got a lot of knowledge but has a great deal of raw talent and iron will. Together, the two of them try to pull each other out of the depression they were in. The girl being eight years old means there’s a lack of mentor-mentee romance you might get if she were a teen. This is just sweet. – Sean Gaffney

Night Bus | By Zuo Ma | Drawn & Quarterly – Finding independent Chinese comics translated into English is something of a rarity, so I was very excited to see that Zuo Ma’s Night Bus was being released. I had previously encountered Zuo Ma’s work in the underground Chinese comic anthology Naked Body published by Paradise Systems. Drawn & Quarterly’s edition of Night Bus, translated and with ending notes by Orion Martin (founder of Paradise Systems), actually gathers stories from two of Zuo Ma’s books: Walk, a collection of ten short works, and an updated and expanded version of the long-form comic Night Bus. In these stories, Zuo Ma frequently incorporates semi-autobiography, fantastical dreamscapes, and the supernatural, working and reworking themes and ideas throughout the volume. Elements of reality and unreality are interwoven and fused in powerful, visceral ways, capturing intense emotions of anxiety and dread, but also evoking a sense of nostalgia. Night Bus is an unsettling, riveting, and compelling collection. – Ash Brown

Queen’s Quality, Vol. 12 | By Kyousuke Motomi | Viz Media – The series works best when it’s equating the stresses and paranoia of the inner mind with outer monsters to match. Sometimes, though, it’s just a bunch of fighting, and the monsters seem to be there just to be antagonists. Fortunately, there’s still our two leads, who remain the best thing about this series. Kyutaro is trying his best to retain his sense of self, and fortunately he has Fumi to help, who is happy to go all the way with him, although perhaps not with the snake inside him. They don’t, however, and Fumi ends up getting her best moments when she shows off what a vicious badass she’s become. That said, the danger of this series is it doesn’t come out often enough, so I forget the plot a lot. – Sean Gaffney

Sacrificial Princess and the King of Beasts, Vol. 13 | By Yu Tomofuji | Yen Press – The start of this volume is a lot of fun, as Sariphi ends up dealing with a tsundere female version of his highness, a woman who is said to have beast ancestry in her past and thus is accused of being evil. Given that this series tends to run on pure Fruits Basket, it’s no surprise that Sariphi is able to help with the pure power of shininess. All is not well back home, though, and it’s becoming pretty clear that endgame is going to be revealing the King’s other form as an excuse for executing him… and I would not be surprised if they blame Sariphi for it. This is still very good, and remains a wonderful reminder of the days when we always got piles of Hana to Yume manga like it. – Sean Gaffney

Sazan & Comet Girl | By Yuriko Akase | Seven Seas – Perhaps the most striking aspect of Sazan & Comet Girl is that the all of the artwork is in full color. Akase’s watercolor illustrations of planetary and interstellar backgrounds in particular are simply gorgeous. Story-wise, however, Sazan & Comet Girl isn’t particularly innovative, primarily revisiting and combining familiar tropes and character types of its genre. Even so, the volume is still great fun, coming across as a nostalgic, loving homage to older science fiction media. The entire series has been released as a single omnibus volume in English and doesn’t have obvious chapter breaks, so once the story gets going it just goes and keeps going, shifting from romantic comedy into action adventure before returning fully to its underlying love story. Sazan is goofball of a lead and Mina, the titular comet girl, is an endearing heroine—apart from the artwork, the manga is at its best when focusing on them. – Ash Brown

This Wonderful Season with You | By Atsuko Yusen | TOKYOPOP – Junpei Enoki is a bespectacled nerd who belongs to the electronic engineering club. Ryousuke Shirataki, a “normie” with a reputation for being cool and manly, is searching for something after an injury ruined his baseball prospects. After Shirataki joins the club, they get to know each other and, ultimately, fall in love. The tone is mostly comedic, with an art style that reminds me a bit of vintage shounen, and I really liked that some characters who seem like comic relief end up being important. I also loved how each boy has an unexpected side to him that the other sees immediately while others fail to notice. Shirataki appeared aloof, but he was actually suffering, and it’s so nice at the end to see him goofy and happy. I could’ve done without the final sex chapter, but aside from that, this was great. – Michelle Smith

By: Ash Brown

[deathsteel]

This Ain't a Scene Its a God Damn Drag Race

~Part Four~

“Woof,” Dianne remarked under her breath from her place on Holly’s left.

And as the mini-challenge’s guest judge came in through the workroom’s main entrance, well Holly’s long neglected libido couldn’t help but agree. Though Holly’s type was usually more along the lines of otter than a full on muscle bear it was clear that the man decked out in a grey Marine Corps t-shirt and snug fitting camo pants taking his place at Gabby’s side had clearly worked to earn his very accurate nickname.

The queens engaged in some polite applause for the sergeant, causing the newcomer to smile widely at them revealing endearing little forehead wrinkles and crinkles at the corners of his eyes that gave away the fact that the drill instructor probably smiled quite a lot.

“Ladies,” The guest acknowledged, not even faltering with the title or blinking at the little sigh that came out of Kim when the queen on Holly’s other side heard the legitimate deep Southern drawl of the judge’s voice. “I’m here today to make you sweat.”

“Yes, please,” Tasha said loud enough to earn a bark of laughter turned cough from Sam who was standing with Zeke off to the side.

“Sergeant Lafitte,” Gabby began, putting a hand on the other man’s bicep only to pause for a moment to squeeze the muscle with an appreciative little moue. “May I call you The Bear?”

“You can call me Benny, sugar,” the drill instructor replied with a wink, earning a laugh/cough from Zeke this time and a scowl from Sam.

“Ooh, well Benny then,” Gabby continued, fanning himself dramatically with his free hand as he turned back to the queens. “Will be putting you through your paces at booty camp and the rules for this challenge are simple, last queen standing wins a special advantage for this week’s runway.”

There were excited titters amongst the queens, again all for the cameras because by this point all of the contestants knew what the stakes of the mini-challenges were, but half of drag was acting so they made it look good.

“Well, alrighty-then,” Gabby bubbled for the camera. “Have at ‘em, Benny-Bear.”

The sergeant smiled again at the host before doing a crisp turn on his heel to face the contestants. Gabby started to swan over towards Sam and Zeke, off camera but close enough to get reaction shots should something outrageous happen.

“Ten-Hut, ladies!” Benny shouted, crossing his arms over his chest as he inspected the queens in front of him for a long moment. “We’re starting with jumping jacks girls, assume the position.”

“I’ll assume your position,” Dianne offered with a flirty wink at the drill sergeant.

“You’d probably assume right,” Benny fired back with a wink of his own as he paced in front of the row of contestants. “Now start jumping.”

Now Holly had a lot of experience dancing and struttin’ and shaking her ass off in heels, but she’d never bothered trying to do a jumping jack and it was honestly much harder than she’d thought it would be. Within a minute she was sweating and desperately wishing she had swiped some anti-perspirant across her hairline before starting.

“I don’t know but I been told,” Benny sing-songed in time to the queens’ measured pace, gesturing for them to repeat it when they just kept jumping and panting. “But drag queen shade is mighty cold.”

Kim laughed as they all repeated the sergeant's words and Holly resented the younger queen for having caught her breath enough to do that.

“Okay, now switch to push ups,” Benny instructed, stopping to demonstrate the exercise when Dianne claimed to not know what it was. Holly took the opportunity to mop up her face with the neckline of her tank top while the other queens admired Benny’s….*ahem* form.

“Got it, sweetheart?” Benny asked Dianne who was fanning herself as she watched the other man get back on his feet and earning an enthusiastic nod in reply. “Great, now drop and give me fifty!”

“Fucking fifty?” Holly heard Tasha mutter under her breath and Holly really couldn’t agree more.

They were about twenty push ups in when Benny’s combat boots stomped quickly out of Holly’s eyeline to the other end of the workroom.

“Eva Destruction, you’re out,” Benny’s voice declared to the room at large.

“Whatever,” Holly heard Eva reply bitterly. “I’m too old for this shit.”

Pull ups knocked out Tasha Salad (“I ain’t winning nothing with these skinny chicken arms, baby.”) and Dianne Tawank kicked off her heels during high-knee running in place (“I’d rather just watch the show, darling.”) which just left Holly Cummunion and Kim Chi battling it out once Benny instructed the queens to start doing sit ups.

“Alright ladies,” Gabby called from across the workroom. “This will decide who gets this week’s special advantage so you better werk!”

Holly let out a sigh of relief as her overheated skin hit the cool surface of the workroom’s concrete floor; in fact she was pretty sure she had never been more satisfied with being on her back than at that very moment.

“We're doing sit ups till one of you cries uncle, ladies,” Benny declared, planting himself firmly in front of the spot that Holly and Kim had lain down to do their sit ups. Which was conveniently right where the cameras could get a wide shot of almost the entire workroom.

“Well I’d prefer to call you daddy, but uncle works too I guess,” Kim quipped brightly, surprising a laugh out of Holly even as they started in on their sit ups with Benny counting them off. The younger queen really had the whole pretty and charmingly dumb act down pat.

It didn’t take long before Holly’s abs started burning. Like, she’d already been sweaty and out of breath before she and Kim had started their showdown, but now her arms were trembling and she was genuinely struggling to keep pace with the other queen as she plowed through sit ups like it was nothing. Holly started making what she was sure were supremely unattractive little grunts every time she reached the apex of a sit up and her sweat band wasn’t doing much to keep her eyes from burning; probably melting her eyeliner right off her face.

Holly could feel herself starting to slow down even before she saw Benny’s focus shift towards her faltering sit ups and it wasn’t less than five reps later that the drill sergeant was barking out that Kim Chi was the winner of the week’s mini-challenge.

“I’d say ‘fuck me’,” Holly drawled as one of the cameras zoomed in to catch the panting puddle she had collapsed back into on the floor while Kim popped up and did a little victory shimmy. “But I don’t think I’d survive it at this point.”

Holly heard a familiar chuckle above her and looked up to see Sam offering her a hand up off the floor while the cameras trickled away to get shots from the other queens as they mopped themselves up before Gabby gave them further instructions for tomorrow’s runway challenge.

“You did good, man,” Sam said quietly, giving Holly a slap on the back once the queen had been hauled to her feet by the taller man. “I probably couldn’t have done all of that in heels.”

“Sure you could’ve,” Holly replied, taking a hand towel offered to her by one of the PAs, Naomi. (Christ, she must look a sight if Naomi was being nice.) “We just would’ve had to glue them to your feet, it's the only way to learn.”

Sam laughed again and shook a finger at Holly before starting back to his spot next to Gabby that the Pit Crew usually occupied anytime the host was in the workroom. “You remember you said that, Cas.”

Holly frowned in confusion, but shrugged off Sam’s comment quickly; she had to, Gabby was gently shooing the other queens into a straight line and Holly had to rush over to join them.

“Okay, my lovelies,” Gabby said, smiling beatifically as he addressed the assembled queens. “Now that you’ve all thoroughly stretched, it's time to talk about this week’s runway challenge. And Kimmie dear since you won this week's mini-challenge you get an extra scrumptious advantage.”

Kim gave an excited little bounce from her place in line and even Holly’s heart melted a little bit. America was going to love that brilliant little twit when this shit aired.

“Now, Sergeant Lafitte--oh! I’m sorry, Benny,” Gabby continued, winking slyly at the sergeant who was standing at his side in parade rest. “Has brought some friends with him to help you girls with the runway challenge this week. You want to call them in, Benny-bear?”

“Sure, darling,” Benny replied with a dazzling grin at the host that caused Sam to roll his eyes; Holly was pretty sure the cameras didn’t catch that little drama though. The drill sergeant raised his voice and directed it towards the workroom’s double door. “Gentlemen! Forward march!”

The queens all jumped at Benny’s first barked order and Tasha even started to take a hesitant step forward before the double doors swung open to admit a line of five men marching sharply in sync to stand in a mirroring line across from the queens. The men were all wearing t-shirts that sported the names of the different branches of the military, camouflage pants, and combat boots.

And honestly, in Holly’s opinion, they were a pretty tragic looking bunch.

Two of them were at least her age if not older, one looked like he had just come down out of the mountains for the first time in years, and the remaining two looked like they were barely out of high school. The former three men had severe expressions on their faces and the latter two looked disgustingly eager to please. Holly did know which would be worse to work with.

She also had the slightly disturbing thought that if these men really were military like Gabby was obviously hinting then America was in trouble for sure.

However, she couldn’t dwell on it for too long because Gabby was addressing the room again and if she didn’t want to be in the bottom three again this week then she better pay attention.

“Ladies, our guests this week are all either former or current members of the United States Armed Forces. As you can see from their shirts they represent every branch of military service and they also represent the LGBTQ+ community.” Gabby explained. “That’s right, all of these men are hella gay and this week you will be transforming them into the fabulous, kick-ass drag queens they never knew they were meant to be.”

Holly felt her stomach drop. They were supposed to turn these burly, boot-stepping bros in to drag queens? No. No way. The beardy one probably had more hair on his face than all of the competing queens had on their entire bodies! There was not enough NAIR or enough Ms. Manners lessons in the world to smooth out the rough edges on these soldiers. These men had actively volunteered to go to war, hell, they might have even killed people. You could not make a light-hearted, campy drag queen out of an army grunt. It was just impossible.

God, maybe she should have tried a little harder to win the advantage this week.

“Ms. Kim Chi,” Gabby continued, oblivious to Holly’s inner turmoil. “Since you kicked ass at drag booty camp you get to assign which soulja boy will work with each of your fellow queens.”

Kim gave a little squeal of delight before immediately darting over to the youngest of the soldiers and doing a dramatic jump into his arms; forcing the poor boy to catch her to keep them both from falling over.

“Dibs on the cute one!” Kim cried, earning laughter from the Pit Crew and Gabby while the rest of the queens forced smiles and panicked on the inside.

This week’s runway was essentially in the hands of an excitable 20-year old manic-pixie-ladyboy with an addiction to Red Bulls and candy necklaces. Holly wasn’t totally freaking out because Kim generally liked her so she’d probably give her the next youngest soldier even if that kid was a bit of a bean pole, but Tasha Salad...yea, that bitch should be worried. The other queen had been ragging on Kim about being the youngest contestant since day one and Holly knew for a fact that Kim was very very over it.

“Today, dumpling,” Gabby prompted once the laughter had died down.

“Wellllll,” Kim drawled, getting her feet back under her so that she could meander through the line of soldiers; reaching out to squeeze a bicep or ruffle some hair here and there. “I think the only fair way to do this is to pair you boys up with a girl you might have something in common with, some shared life experience. So uh….get in order of oldest to youngest. Girls, you too.”

Holly raised an eyebrow as the queens and soldiers exchanged doubtful looks before everyone began rearranging themselves per Kim’s instructions and oh...oh, tiny infant Jesus, no.

Across from her stood the hairiest, most disheveled soldier (his grey shirt proclaimed him a Marine) that Holly had ever seen in her life. She was pretty sure there were regulations for things like facial hair and stuff in the military, right? Benny and all of the other soldiers were clean shaven except for a few very neat mustaches. Was this guy undercover or something? Trying to infiltrate a particularly militant bunch of Appalachian mountain men?

If so, then this dude’s cover was going to be seriously blown when this episode aired.

“Uh…” Kim said, eyeing the line up, biting her lip before casting an apologetic look in Holly’s direction. “This’ll work. Cute one, you’re with me.”

The young, blonde guy at the end of the row of soldiers smiled winningly at Kim as she bounded back over to the line of drag queens revealing deep set dimples because of course. Holly could only be thankful that she wasn’t Eva because her Navy guy looked like he had never seen a bottle of moisturizer in his life.

“Fantastic,” Gabby gushed. “Now that that is settled, what we’re looking for this week, ladies, is for you to turn your individual star-spangled man with a plan into an all-American beauty queen. The judges are going to be looking for a strong family resemblance and we would also like each duo to perform a patriotic baton routine to honor this wonderful country. You’ve got a lot to do this week ladies so start your engines. And may the best woman win!”

Holly bared her teeth in a smile as Gabby swanned out of the workroom, taking Sam and Zeke with him as he went.

“And we’re clear!” Dorothy, one of the production assistants, shouted once the workroom door had shut behind the show’s name sake. “Gentlemen, feel free to borrow from the vault for your army guy’s runway routine. Baton routine outfits will be provided. You will have two days to prepare for your runway walk and baton routine. Each pair will get one hour of consultation with the choreographer to get their input on your routine, but you are each responsible for creating a unique baton routine on your own. Any questions?”

The vague af instructions were par for the course for the queens so none of the remaining contestants raised their hands, but the tall, lanky boy that Raphael had been paired with raised his hand innocently.

Dorothy just raised her eyebrow and suppressed a sigh, “Yes, you in the camo?”

There were barely concealed giggles and barks of laughter from the rest of the assorted men as the boy (because he was a boy, really how old was this kid?) blushed beet red before he managed to stammer out an answer for Dorothy.

“Are we going to get a break for lunch?” the boy forced out, earning another round of laughter from the queens and a quickly stifled grin from Dorothy as well.

“Maybe this was a good pairing after all,” Raphael announced pointedly in Kevin’s direction, looping his arm through the boy’s before he started pulling him out of the workroom. “C’mon baby, let momma show you where craft services are.”

“Any other questions?” the production assistant prompted again, earning a bevy of head shakes from the remaining men. “Great, well you can use the rest of today to get to know your partner. Your two days of preparation officially starts tomorrow.”

Meaning they could unofficially start prepping today, wonderful. Castiel sighed in relief at being given even an extra half day to try to whip and wax his partner into shape. And with that…

Castiel turned back to his Marine, trying and failing to not be slightly intimidated by the rough exterior of the other man. Who knew maybe he was a softy under that bushy beard?

[thenichibro]

Fall 2017 Anime First Impressions

And so here I am again, three weeks late because I can never keep up. Fall 2017 thus far doesn’t seem too, too bad, but I’m sure that will change, considering the multiple original shows on my watching list. Luckily there’s plenty of cute girls doing cute things shows, which is all I need, really. As usual, here’s what I’m watching, with MAL links and original shows marked: Osake wa Fuufu (MAL) Starting off with a short show this time. Osake wa Fuufu follows a wife, Chisato, and her husband, Sora. Sora likes making drinks, and Chisato likes drinking. Match made in heaven, if you ask me. The show even includes drink recipes depending on the featured drink, and a food pairing with it. It's a three minute show about a cute, drunk wife. What's not to like?

URAHARA (MAL) Taking a sharp departure from the calmness of Osake wa Fuufu, URAHARA involves three fashion-loving Harajuku girls saving the planet from aliens. This show is Harajuku personified. Everything from the character design to the OP explodes with a bubbly, colorful atmosphere, wrapped up in a beautiful watercolor aesthetic. ORESAMA's fantastic brand of electropop is the exact cherry on top the art style needed. Rito is the skateboarding, soft-spoken girl with demon horns, Kotoko is the peppy blonde kemonomimi, and Mari is the twintailed idol who also owns the clothes shop the girls work at. After aliens sucking up cultural landmarks appear, an American girl wearing a talking fried shrimp shows up, gives them "physical manifestations of imagination," and they promptly transform into magical girls and fight the aliens, making them explode and turn into donuts. Sure, that made no sense at all, but everything's so colorful. Capped off by a similarly bubbly ED, this show is just outright fun. If it stays about three cute girls happily fighting fashion-stealing aliens, I'm in.

Dies Irae (MAL) Just as an FYI, Dies Irae aired an episode zero prequel, but I've waited until the formal episode one before doing any impressions, seeing as the prequel was a complete clusterfuck anyway. Now then, after the prequel involving Nazi supermen, Dies Irae's main series cuts to the future and the protagonist Ren, a solemn oft-hospitalized teen. Plenty of mysteries abound - a sudden murder, a strange vision at a museum, a runaway friend, a girl calling him Cagliostrio in a dream - interspersed throughout an otherwise thoroughly boring slice of life. Following that, the episode alos teases plenty of the insane bullshit the prequel was few of. In one line, one character drops 5 proper nouns we have had zero interaction with, with the off mention of one name from the prequel episode. Foreshadowing is fine; introducing three characters in the span of 15 seconds and then talking about 5+ more of them is a bit much. The art is nothing special, and the orchestral soundtrack is unique enough, but if the prequel was any indication, this show is going to get insane, really fast. And not insane like the fun, rollercoaster ride kind. More like the trying-too-hard, unnecesarily edgy, impossible to actually follow kind.

Net-juu no Susume (MAL) Ah, the MMO spin on the isekai genre. Net-juu follows Moriko, a NEET woman living alone who devotes her time to playing a guy (Hayashi) in an MMO. She meets with an amazingly cute girl, Lily (who later we see to be a guy IRL), and they start adventuring together. Cut to 70-odd levels of grinding, joining a guild, and an upgraded PC later, Moriko/Hayashi has settled in just fine. First off, Lily's VA is the fucking cutest, holy shit. My reactions about echoed Moriko's anytime she was being cute. Other than that, the first episode was surprisingly sincere. Relatively light on the "MY REAL LIFE IS ON THE INTERNET!!" in favor of Moriko just being more of an awkward, lazy video game nerd. Using video games to not have to deal with real life is nothing new, but the heart with which Hayashi/Lily meet and grow in just one episode impressed me. This could go either way, and I'm hoping it stays a interesting vignette on the trials and tribulations of the two lives Moriko lives.

[ORIG] Just Because! (MAL) Next up, Just Because sees Eita Izumi returning after four years to his locale's high-school, reuniting with people he lost touch with. The first episode sees a wonderful moment of return, as Eita practices with an old baseball friend, leading the practicing band to strike up into the chorus they played at games, seeminginly on their own. The trumpets flowing into the full orchestral matches the rising tone perfectly. Juxatposed with a Photography Club facing termination and a former class prez buried in obligations, a web of connections lies in wait, ready to reaccept Eita. The art is quite muted, and even with complaints about the hot weather, the sun is behind clouds and the cityscape is grey, as opposed to the beating sun we often see. Just Because's first episode, while not telling much, showed plenty, and indicated what the main issues would be and who would be involved, and that's exactly what a first episode should do. If an original work is showing that early on, maybe it has more direction than most - and that's a very good thing.

[ORIG] Two Car (MAL) Sidecar racing is something I haven't seen, for sure. The island of Miyakejima, with its uncontrolled speed limits, is home to famous sidecar racing, or "kneeler racing" competitions, and the show follows the endlessly arguing but amazingly similar local team of Yuri and Megami. A bouncy pop soundtrack plays over the high-speed racing, creating a light yet competitive tone that perfectly fits the colored visuals, featuring the same artist/production company as Masamune-kun no Revenge from a few seasons ago. Discord has cropped up between Yuri and Megumi due to their beloved coach leaving for greener courses and the feelings they had for him as he left. The cuts between the high-speed raising and the melancholic, reflective flashbacks does quite well in explaining their movements throughout the race - catching us up to speed, so to speak. The tone of the show comes across perfectly as the episode closes, backed up by the fantastic soundtrack and beautifully done OP and ED. You just feel this show is time spent on an island, split between relaxing and racing. It's wonderfully done. It remains to be seen if this show will echo others like Minami Kamakura and Bakuon and go really into the mechanical aspect of sidecar racing. However, this show is a surprisingly emotionally-based piece where emotions are expressed on the race course - and I'm interested in more.

[ORIG] Animegataris (MAL) Minoa is our orange-haired, ahoge-sporting protag, called out by the school princess Kamiigusa to talk about anime, of all things. Go figure. Coming off the trash that was Gamers last season, the blonde perfect girl actually being a huge nerd is already tiring. Minoa is looking for the name of an anime that moved her as a kid, and to do it suggests to get the anime club back in action, then promptly gets roped into leading it. Her endless optimism isn't original but it's always refreshing, and the use of anime to let Minoa see "more of Kamiigusa's faces" is a bit better than just having the red face of a normally "perfect" girl besmirched by the recognition she likes anime. Also there's a huge-headed cat and a somehow magical beret, which came out of the blue just a bit. We get a sneak peak of the future members, ranging across all archetypes and social cliques, and then the magical beret comes back and the cat now talks. Interested to see where the hell any of that goes, but if this stays more comedy and less Gamers romance-misunderstanding bullshit, I'll be satisfied. Also, both the OP and ED (especially the OP - GARNiDELiA is so good) are great. Some very strange plot choices, especially worrying in an original work, but if they pay off this will be enjoyable. Let's just hope they do.

Mahoutsukai no Yome (MAL) Backing off the slice of life, Mahoutsukai imagines a modern day world intertwined with fantasy - beastmen, magic, and the few humans who can see it - one of them being Chise Hatori, ostracized for her power until she is bought at an auction by a legendary mage, Elias, who aims to make her his apprentice. Chise is actually a "Sleigh Beggy," a rare being that attracts "faries and mysteries," whatever that will eventually entail. Mahoutsukai thus far gives off a kind of Uchouten Kazoku vibe as Chise moves into Elias' tranquil house. An ostensibly normal-looking environment inhabited by mystical beings, and a duality of calmness and turbulent themes below echo Uchouten's politics. The juxtaposition of the forcible buying of Chise versus the welcoming environment she is brought in creates an interesting dynamic that I'm interested in seeing played out. The animation is beautiful, and the small switches to a more chibi style aren't disruptive in the least. Aside from some confusion about the initial setup of the world, if this show becomes a magical slice-of-life with even a fraction of the heart of Uchouten, I'm in.

Shoujo Shuumatsu Ryokou (MAL) Two girls in old-school fatigues, cruising around a cold, apocalyptic, industrial wasteland. Sounds cool to me. Chito is the collected, tired foil to Yuuri's galavanting, charismatic self. The animation is a bit divergent, in that while the landscapes are detailed in their greyness, the art of the two girls echoes something like Hidamari in its style. While initially strange, it didn't become anything more than just "noticeable." The muscial backdrop is a flowing, airy tone that fits well with the girls having fun praticing shooting or walking around looking for supplies.The music and the attitudes of Chi and Yuu create an atmosphere to the point that doesn't feel like a depressing, sober look at war. Seeing it through the eyes of two children also puts the concepts of war and conflict in eerily simple terms, providing a new look at a concept done to death, so to speak. There's a strangely relaxed feel despite the landscape and color scheme. It remains to be seen if this will go the route of Made in Abyss, especially with an out of place scene at the end of the episode, but while MiA was fucking phenomenal, I could do with less bawling two seasons in a row. This is a strange one, but the simple story of Chi and Yuu trudging across the snowy landscape is appealing.

Konohana Kitan (MAL) Cute fox girls working at a traditional Japanese hot spring hotel? I'm in. Yuzu is the nervous newbie, Kiri is the charismatic head attendant, Natsume is spunky and atheletic, Satsuki is responsible to a fault, Ren is the doll-like one whose personality doesn't match her cute exterior, and there's the diminutive, quiet Sakura. The personalities of the girls are varied and interplay nicely, and I look forward to seeing how Yuzu fits in. Moreover, the art is fantastic. The character designs echo perfectly the individual personalities, and the landscapes of cherry blossoms are stunning. I personally love the traditional Japanese aesthetic the inn and surrounding town embody, and it obviously fits well with the fact that the girls are all kitsunes. Konohana seems to me like a slightly less energetic/comedic Urara Meirochou, which is a good thing. The aesthetic is great, the girls are cute - this is a show for healing, and I need it.

Blend-S (MAL) Maika, a perpetual job hunter with her naturally scary eyes, finds her home at a cafe where all the waitresses are archetypes, as the sadistic one. Blend-S is almost like a more overt version of the varied personalities in Working!, with all comedy and less romance. I quite like the juxtaposition of the girls' normal personalities when talking to each other and their work personalities (especially when the line blurs). While usually its a cute girl who's actually evil or something and used as boring shock value, being the point of the show pivots the concept into a new way I enjoy. Even moreso, Maika especially has plenty of quirks that bely her role as the "normal" main character. The art is clean and sharp, and the girls have great character designs - I really like the facial designs. The OP, by the VAs (which is always a plus), is fantastic both in design and music, and compliments the more relaxed ED (which is also by the VAs). Overall, this show is friendly and the girls are cute. Sounds good to me.

Boku no Kanojo ga Majimesugiru Sho-bitch na Ken (MAL) Adaptations with stock character protagonists and plenty of overt fanservice.  Yay. I'm amazed this isn't from an LN, because it is exactly that kind of show. Shobitch begins with our MC Shinozaki confessing to Kosaka, which she accepts. Then she learns "how to be a good girlfriend," which far more often than not involves plenty of fanservice. Also, despite him having a girlfriend, there's a whole variety of other girls interested in him - the childhood friend and imouto get ticked off the list int he first six minutes. On the bright side, the art is great. Character designs aside from the protag are varied and well-drawn. Kosaka's earnestness with which she wants to be a good girlfriend is endearing in itself, but the 100% focus on sexual themes is just a bit tiring. Sort of like how Kuzu no Honkai went from seriously emotional to reducing any character motivation to "the only way I can be loved is physically." Regardless, you know exactly what you're getting into with a title like this show. There are some genuine emotional moments, but they are few and very far between. Otherwise, Shobitch is a well-drawn yet bland ecchi definitely-not-LN adaptation.

Inuyashiki (MAL) Last but not least, adding to the limited action slate I'm watching this season, we have Inuyashiki. Inuyashiki is, for lack of a better term, strange. It begins with nearly all CG, but then transitions to a mix of normal animation and CG for the rest of the episode. The first half of episode one is one of the most solemn, depressing sequences I've seen, and that's blown away by a whirlwind of aliens, body-swapping, and mechanical bodies. While the tonal shift is quite jarring, the change wasn't anything completely incomprehensible. The problem will be where this will go, now that Ichiro, our man with months to live, is now equipped with alien technology. I'm hoping that within the mix of action there will be a sense that Ichiro, now unshackled by sickness, can make concrete steps to make his life better. While the action shots were nice-looking, and the CG actually doesn't look half bad, with how emotionally powerful the first half of episode one is I want to see more of that as well. Either way, Inuyashiki has my attention, and I'm eager to see where Ichiro goes.

[httpsung]

dandelion

pairing: reader x young k ft. the rest of day6

genre: angst

word count: 3,056

note: warnings: mentions of death. another addition to fic wars, a one-shot inspired by anohana :’) here’s a song full of feels that led me to title this dandelion, happy reading! tagging my warring buddy @wonpillows

Sharp eyes of a deep brown you could get lost in, high cheek bones settled above a bright smile and a laugh so airy you could never forget it. Never in your life would you forget someone so handsome, even though your memories of him slowly locked themselves away over the years.  At least they would always be there, even if your last moments with him were painful. The skies brought about a new morning and a thief. Someone had stolen the key that kept your deepest memories sealed and unlocked the door letting them flood to the forefront of your mind, bringing on fresh tears that poured from the corners of your eyes.

It was him, your departed friend was the culprit.

He stood in front of you very much alive, smiling as if he had never vanished for the last six years.

“Hi Y/n.”

You remembered that soft chuckle that would escape him when he spoke your name and now it was present, echoing throughout your ears.

“Younghyun...?” Your groggy voice cracked, index finger wiping away a stray tear.

“It’s Brian.” He smiled and you covered your face, shaking your head for a few seconds to get rid of the false image of him in your room. You had to be hallucinating or better yet still dreaming.

Brian couldn’t be alive. He left you six years ago in a fatal accident where his bike collided with truck while he was on his way to hang out with you and the rest of your friends. Finding out the news of his death was the most heartbreaking day in your life and not long ago you thought you’d finally come to terms with losing him.

You inhaled in the palm of your hands and exhaled, removing them from your face slowly and opening your eyes.

“Hi…” The figment of your imagination spoke again and this time you screamed, almost falling out your bed.

“Calm down!” He exclaimed with a hard laugh, holding his stomach. You had to be insane to vividly imagine such detailed movements from him, any other time he appeared in your dreams he didn’t speak and wouldn’t move around so much so what was different?

“I’m crazy right…?” You gave a nervous laugh, your heart pounding. Brian took steps toward you and you immediately felt a chill, goosebumps forming along your arms. Your grandfather once told you something like that happens when a ghost was present.

“You’re not crazy...” Brian spoke with a soft sigh, sitting down on the edge of your bed.

“You’re alive…?” You felt the warmth of tears forming in your eyes again.

Brian silently shook his head no and there was silence between the two of you. Your heart was breaking all over again.

The tears fell slowly as you watched him look to your windowsill at the vase of dandelions that glistened under the sunlight. They were his favorite flower, you remembered how he enjoyed blowing the ones that were only made of seeds. You even remembered how he loved to pick them when they were a bright yellow and put them in your hair, though your other friends teased him.

“Hey…” Brian interrupted your reminiscing, turning to look at you with another smile. “How are the other guys?”

By other guys, he meant the four other friends you grew up with. You were the only girl in your little crew and often acted like the leader along with Brian. The six of you did everything together, even dreamed together and by the time you hit your teens you all were on the verge of making them come true. They were set to make it big as a band and you were going to be their personal manager that way you could remain inseparable through it all.

The boys, under the rock band called Dandy, played several high school talents shows and were the talk of the town. They were prepping to play a festival held in the city back when you were sixteen, but Brian’s accident happened and the band slowly fell apart, your friendships with them except for one began to fade.

“Sungjin’s doing fine… but I haven’t spoken much to the other three since-” You swallowed hard, wiping your face, not wanting to say what should have been said next.

“Since I died right…?” Brian’s lips flashed a weak smile and he looked to the dandelion’s again.

You gave him a nod, sitting in silence once again.

“So, Sungjin is the only one you’re close to these days?” Brian asked and you nodded again this time giving him a verbal answer.

“Yeah, he’s been by my side this entire time.” You smiled, not realizing your face flushing at the thought of the other male.

You and Sungjin weren’t super close compared to Brian or your other friends growing up, in fact, he was the most distant with you. He was a wimpy and whiny kid, but as he grew older he matured and had always been there when you needed him, especially through the grief of losing Brian. Just recently Sungjin finally confessed his feelings for you and you accepted them with all your heart.

“That’s… great.” Brian stood quickly and stretched his arms into the air. “Hey Y/n… I have a request.”

“Hm..?” You hummed in response, curious. It wasn’t so unbelievable now that he was really in your room, the coolness of his presence dimming into the warmest feeling.

“Before I revealed myself to you, I forgot what I was going to ask. But it just came to me again after speaking to you for a bit.” Brian chuckled.

Your lips finally cracked a smile as you waited for him to continue.

“I want you and the guys to perform during the city’s summer festival, the one we would have played when we were sixteen.” His words were more like a command than a request, but it was friendly and he even added a wink being just as charming as ever.

“Younghyun I…”

“It’s Brian.” He corrected you, he always preferred that name to his birth name and you always called him either one depending on how you were feeling.

“Brian… I don’t know if they’ll want to.” You replied, a nervousness settling in your stomach. You hadn’t spoken to the trio since Brian’s funeral but you had an inkling in the back of your mind that maybe asking them to do this would aid in helping them heal.

“Just try…” You felt Brian’s hand on top of your head and it was warm as if he wasn’t just a ghost of his former self.

“Sungjin…” You stopped walking with your boyfriend, his hand ceasing to swing yours back and forth. Jitters were written all over your face which had him frowning in concern.

“What’s wrong…?” He let your hand go to rub both of your arms comfortingly.

“I want the band to get back together.” You said with a bite of your lip, looking him in the eyes. Sungjin’s eyes widened and he gave you a confused laugh, tilting his head slightly.

“Where’s this coming from suddenly?” He asked, still a bit lost but curious nonetheless.

“You’re not going to believe me but…” You muttered, looking past him at Brian who tried his best not to look at you two.

“It’s for Brian, he wants us to get Dandy back together and perform for the summer fest in two weeks. “You muttered.

Sungjin stared at you for what seemed like minutes before he busted into laughter, causing Brian to look your way.

“You’re kidding, right?” He asked trying to breathe properly after laughing so hard. You stared back at him without giving a smile, your brows creasing.

“You’re serious….” Sungjin���s voice faded out as he took both your hands in his and gave them a light squeeze.

“You don’t have to believe me but Brian is here with us...” Your eyes weren’t focused on Sungjin but on the male that picked dandelions, blowing them from the stem and watching as they floated along with the summer breeze.

“Please, can we just do this...? Let’s gather the guys and put on the show we never attempted back then.” Your gaze shifted to him and you gave him a sincere smile which he couldn’t argue with.

“If that’s what you want…” Sungjin smiled in return and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. Brian watched you two with a smile of his own, though his heart wished he could be in his old friend’s place.

The first friend on your list was Jae. He was Brian’s partner in crime growing up, the two always pulled pranks on the rest of your crew and on each other. You and Sungjin caught him after his college class, with his acoustic guitar strapped to his back. Jae was more of the quiet type so the laid-back response when he saw you both after a long time was expected. He sat down with you and Sungjin, with Brian nearby and you poured your heart out to him with why they should perform together again.

Jae gave a loud laugh and shook his head in disbelief, he almost got up and walked away at how ridiculous you sounded when you mentioned that this was Brian’s idea, but something made him stay or rather someone. You saw Brian approach Jae from behind placing his hand gently on his shoulder making the tall male shudder visibly, but he didn’t freak out. Maybe he felt Brian’s presence in that moment because he agreed and Brian looked to you with a smile.

One down, two to go.

Wonpil was next, he was the silliest out of your bunch and was amazingly talented on the piano. He immediately doubted your claims of Brian being back in the world of the living but agreed to play the show with the excuse that his fingers had become stiff from not playing for a while, which Jae argued that it should be the other way around.

Two down, the most difficult to go.

Dowoon was the youngest in your group and the most sensitive, though he never showed it. Each of you knew he took losing Brian the hardest. Brian was like an older brother figure to him and the fact that he didn’t get a chance to properly tell him goodbye tore him to shreds. The drummer boy ignored your calls as well as everyone else’s and avoided you guys on his way to and from work at his mother’s bakery. Brian, however, being a sneaky ghost, spied on Dowoon at his home and knew deep down that the boy really wanted to reconnect but was having the toughest time figuring out what to say.

The four of you managed to catch Dowoon when he was working, thanks to the tip from Brian about what time the youngest would be on the clock. He was surprised when they four of you entered the bakery and ordered some of your favorite treats from your childhood. Dowoon wanted to run but knew in his heart it was time to face all of you.

In the corner of the bakery everyone sat and you explained the situation to him.

“Brian’s here…?” His heavy voice asked calmly, eyes fixated on his hands. You nodded, looking to Brian who stood with a light smile behind his youngest friend. Dowoon turned his head slightly and you wondered if he could see him too. 

“It’s strange but over the last few days I could have sworn I could feel him with me,” Dowoon said, earning him a smile from you.

“Not you too.” Wonpil sighed and Sungjin elbowed him in the side.

“Okay I’ll do it, when do we start practicing?” Dowoon asked, fingers drumming on the table you sat around.

Brian cheered and you giggled. You flashed him the okay sign with your hand, the four other guys glancing in the direction you were signaling but they saw nothing.

Dandy was together again and though no saw Brian, the others began to enjoy the time you shared together as if he been with them all along.

“What?!” You exclaimed the night before the show. Everyone was sitting around the old practice room aka Sungjin’s parent’s basement after hours of rehearsing. Brian had just asked you something that completely caught you off guard and to the other’s it looked as if you were screaming at the wall.

“Maybe we should get her help…” Wonpil snorted, earning him a slap in the back of the head from Jae.

“What’s wrong babe…?” Sungjin asked you with a raise of his brow. You turned to them with a grinning ghost next to you, feeling flustered.

“B-Brian... wants me to sing tomorrow night for the festival. He said I should take the lead and give Sungjin’s vocals a rest.” You felt shy suddenly and Wonpil didn’t help when he started laughing, you could even see Jae and Dowoon trying to hold back their laughter too.

Sungjin just smiled at you before shooting a glare at the others. “Do you think you can do it?” He asked.

“Yes, she can!” Brian cheered, patting your back.

“I don’t know…” You answered, ignoring Brian. You remembered him telling you as a child you had a great voice that rivaled everyone else’s but you were never confident in it and let the boys do all the singing while you played manager.

“Only do it if you can Y/n… No pressure.” Jae assured you. “And if Brian keeps bothering you about it I’ll…” His threat fell short and he gave a faint smile.

“I would hit him if I could…” He said and the room stilled.

“You would try, but I’m so quick I would dodge it,” Brian replied and you repeated his words for Jae to hear.

“Sounds like something he would say.” Dowoon laughed and so did the rest.

Much later you sat on your bedroom floor with Brian next to you, his soothing voice filling your ears with a song he enjoyed singing, named after his favorite flower. You loved listening to him sing, he had a voice that could easily bring tears to your eyes and you wished he had the chance to set the crowd ablaze with his pleasant vocals once more.

“You’ll be fine trust me…” Brian had stopped singing, reaching over to stroke your hair.

“How do you do know?” You turned to him, still worrying.

“Because I’m here with you.” He smiled and placed a kiss to your temple, his lips felt so real and you wondered if he could feel yours too. You gave him a kiss in return, placing it on his cheek making him flush pink. It was a kiss that waited so long to reach him and you felt satisfied to know he might have felt it too.

The evening of the festival came, the stars shining brightly among the city lights. The festival stage was big and there was a nice sized crowd ready for your band to perform. You dressed nicely with the help of Brian, matching along with your friends who felt just as nervous as you were.

“Ready...?” Sungjin asked as the four of you stood in a circle. You all nodded and one by one put your hands in the center.

“For Brian.” Dowoon smiled when your hands touched. Brian added his hand on the very top and in that moment, everyone’s eyes widened, feeling the extra weight of his hand on theirs.

“Is that really…?” Jae started to speak but a loud call of their band name interrupted his words.

“It’s him… It’s really Brian.” You smiled before turning to head onto the stage, the guys followed, each of them looking at their hand before getting their instruments ready. You glanced to the side of the stage where Brian smiled, waiting for you guys to play, signaling him the okay and then you were singing.

It was like a wave of positive energy hit all of you, your melodies blended so passionately as if you had that sixth person on stage with you, strumming his favorite bass guitar as if Jae hadn’t taken over his position. The crowd was in love, jamming to the original song written by your friend that passed, his memory embedded into each word.

As the song came to an end, the audience roared with applause and you turned to Brian who clapped proudly, his body emitting a soft glow.

You took a quick bow and hurried off the stage to him, the other guys following quickly behind you. They all froze in place at the new sight in front of them.

“Brian..?” Wonpil spoke first.

“Wait is it really…?” Sungjin added. Everyone could see him now, the face of their friend they lost six years ago, a little more mature as if he aged with them all this time.

“It’s me…” Brian laughed, tears in his eyes. “It’s nice to know you guys can finally see me, though I’ve been with you for some time now.”

“Dude...” Jae’s voiced cracked as he removed his lens-less glasses to wipe away a tear.

“Dude…” Brian replied, knowing how much feeling a simple word like that held.

“I missed you...” Dowoon choked out and Wonpil couldn’t even form coherent words to continue talking.

Brian’s body began to fade and you knew you wouldn’t see him again after this.

“You guys did well tonight, you finally played the summer festival and I’m happy you made the crowd go wild.” Brian grinned.

“Never stop playing okay? You guys are amazing, keep it going and Y/n… you don’t need to be a manager anymore. Your voice is beautiful, keep singing.”

“Okay...” You answered through tears.

“Sungjin, promise you’ll keep taking care of her.” He nodded to Sungjin who held back his emotions the best he could.

“I promise.” Your boyfriend responded, pulling you close to him.

“I’ll be off now guys, it was great seeing you all together again… bye, bye…” Brian’s gaze lingered on you then he was gone, leaving behind a flurry of dandelion seeds that traveled along the night air.