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milfmacbeth · 5 months

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Hi! Your top 5 best and top 5 worst endings of anything that you liked? Could be TV shows, books, movies, podcasts. Thanks!

hi!! thank you for the ask <3

i generally prefer tragic or bittersweet endings over unambiguously happy ones; this will be long; spoilers ahead (obviously)

best endings

hannibal

the wrath of the lamb fucking rearranged my brain chemistry. how do i explain to people that one of the most romantic things i’ve ever seen was a murder-suicide?

technically hannibal was canceled and not ended but in absence of a season 4, i will consider twotl the ending. i don’t even want a season 4 because i can’t imagine any better ending than the one we’ve got. yes, season 3b was a rushed mess of hannibal, will, and dolarhyde playing fuck marry kill with each other, but they stuck the landing so well, and it’s this perfect tragic mix of “this could’ve all been avoided” and “there’s no other way this could’ve ended”.

and yeah the ending is ambiguous and it’s implied they lived but my favorite interpretation is that they died in each other’s arms.

black sails

wars have been fought over the interpretation of this ending. i personally think john silver is lying but whatever your take, jack’s “a story is true, a story is untrue” speech is brilliant and it’s a perfect ending to a great show

fleabag

“i love you” “it’ll pass” I AM NORMAL.

i love you, female characters written by women. i love you, comedy that turns into tragedy halfway through. i love you, clever use of narrative devices.

this show is damn near perfect, and even though the first thing i did after finishing fleabag was go on ao3 in search of thousands of words of fix-it fic, i wouldn’t change a thing about the ending.

white fang

i wouldn’t say i have a favorite book, but if i had to answer that question it would either be the iliad or white fang. this is the book that got me into reading.

this book caught me at exactly the right time in my life. i was obsessed with wolves as a kid; i was 11 or so, and my grandma handed me this beautifully illustrated book that had the most amazing old book smell (because it’s been in a wooden attic up until then).

it’s about the life of a wolfdog (more wolf than dog) that was born in the wild but gets tamed/adopted into a dog pack that hates him because they can smell he’s not really a dog and hooo boy does something is wrong with you and others can tell that you’re not like them hit when you’re a lonely child.

anywayyyyyy it ends with white fang, having been adopted by a kind man, lying in the sun, still a little confused/out of his element but content. the ending is bittersweet and thematically fitting and he’s a good dog and deserves it.

the mechanisms

the mechanisms are a band of immortal space pirates telling stories of their adventures. their last album is titled death to the mechanisms and in the eponymous song , they realize they’re not quite as immortal as they thought they were. it’s sad, it’s funny, it’s beautiful, it’s poetic, and it’s a worthy send-off.

if you’ve got six and a half minutes, it’s worth a listen (even without context), if only for gems like “witnesses will say that they have never before seen someone so viciously excited to die” or “his body will float there forever, far beyond the warmth of stars” or “pointless, ignoble deaths the lot of them. but who that lived can really boast otherwise?” (this band is so quotable it's insane)

onto the hating!

worst endings

dexter

what the absolute FUCK was that. i adore this show but the ending sucks so much it feels almost malicious

supernatural

i’m not sure i can answer “do you like supernatural?” without a lawyer present. i was obsessed with supernatural as a teenager, then i stopped watching around season 10 or 11. i decided to rewatch the entire thing after november 5th.

supernatural would be so good if it was good. i’m a “supernatural should’ve ended after season 5” truther but i admit that some of the later seasons do have their moments.

not the ending though. the ending is so completely beyond parody i don’t even know what to say. castiel is in superhell for gay angels. dean gets nailed by vampire clowns. when i first saw the aged-up version of sam i literally burst out laughing. at least the wincesties got a forehead touch out of it i guess???? i am so glad that i’ve built up enough emotional distance to laugh instead of rage about this because i know my teenage self would’ve had a conniption.

goethe’s faust and euripides’ orestes

they’ve got nothing to do with each other but i have the exact same beef with both of them so i’m just gonna throw them together.

faust ending: faust loses his wager with mephisto and should’ve by all rights gone to hell but god says ????? (don’t even ask i’m not sure i could explain whatever twisted logic is going on there. something about faust using his devil-bestowed powers for good) and faust goes to heaven anyway.

goethe, my guy, you named the thing faust. eine tragödie. where’s the tragedy i was promised? false advertising. fuck you.

orestes ending: standoff between menelaus and orestes; orestes is holding a knife to hermione’s (menelaus’ and helen’s daughter) throat; this will not end well. or so you thought! at the last possible second, apollo swoops down and fixes everything, tells orestes to marry hermione and ???

nothing is satisfyingly resolved but hey, at least no one’s dead. except iphigenia, and agamemnon, and clytemnestra. this fucking family…

this is what the ancients called deus ex machina and what i call an ass pull.

i just think if you’ve constructed an entire narrative that follows a very clear, specific direction, you shouldn’t then swerve to the left. SEEMS LOGICAL TO ME

and it’s not just philistine bitching on my part btw. there’s actual academic debate about what the hell these authors were thinking. that being said, i’m a hater because i’m a lover, and i wouldn’t be so mad if i didn’t love both these plays

game of thrones

i am sure everyone has heard about how much the ending fucking sucks. from building up the night king to be a badass villain only to kill him in the ass-pulliest way imaginable in one (1) night, to walking back all the character development the characters went through to jon’s heritage being meaningless to having a thus far sympathetic dany snap and burn a city down over literally nothing to jaime and cersei being killed by falling rocks to brandon fucking stark, a character so uninteresting the show forgot about him for a whole season, sitting on the iron throne.

also, euron greyjoy is my favorite character in the books and i’ll never forgive the show for butchering him (i don’t know who the fuck that guy on the screen is, it sure ain’t euron).

one thing that i find fascinating is that it’s literally just the writing that sucks. the costumes are beautiful, the soundtrack is better than the show deserves (thank you ramin djawadi ilu mwah <3), the dragons look great, the actors are doing the best they can. highest production value piece of garbage ever made.

the magnus archives

(little warning bc i’m really mad about this so vitriol ahead. also, i have not listened to the magnus protocol and i’m not sure i ever will)

i yelled about this a lot and i’m ready to yell about this some more!! THIS IS A SEASON 5 HATE BLOG. i’m so serious it’s literally a better podcast if you ignore season 5 and act like MAG 160 is the ending. jonathan ‘the archivist’ sims should’ve had a corruption arc and i will die on this hill, everything E V E R Y T H I N G pointed towards jon becoming a monster and enjoying it. it could’ve been so good!!! instead we got some formulaic bullshit, the concept of (and i cannot stress this enough) parallel universes introduced like three episodes before the ending, and the single shittiest romance i have ever been subjected to. the way martin treats jon is sooo fucking vile and yet the podcast is constantly like aren’t they so cute :) isn’t this soo romantic :) NO IT FUCKING ISN’T. he’s dating his shitty coworker who he doesn’t even like that much why exactly am i supposed to be rooting for this relationship jesus fuck i feel like i’m being gaslit. i don’t just have a notp i genuinely feel like jonmartin ruined the entire thing.

s5 also completely ignored jonah magnus who, apart from being one of the most interesting characters, is THE GUY THE PODCAST WAS NAMED AFTER. but yeah, sure, who cares about him? let's have five more episodes of jon and martin being fundamentally incompatible.

and then there’s the ending where jon is the only one who stands up for what’s right. the podcast tries to act like keeping the fears in their world or releasing the fears are two equally bad choices but the latter is so clearly worse. so clearly the wrong choice to make. AND THEN THEY MAKE THAT TERRIBLE CHOICE FUCK THIS SO MUCH

tma season 5 is one of those cases where you can so clearly see the potential of something that could’ve been so great and they just threw that away AND FOR WHAT

(ok i’m done yelling about this now. just kidding i’ll never be done)

#i am long overdue for a rewatch/reread of some of these #ask

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thefallenbibliophilequote · 3 years

Text

Wildest Dreams

Loki x Reader

1989, chapter 9

"He only saw her in his dreams."

Summary: It's hard to find the one, but even if you do find him it's always going to be a daily struggle to make it work. Can you even make it work after he broke your heart? The answer to that is complicated, but it all started when you found each other again in the stark tower- and that's where our story begins.

Word count: 3,695

Warnings: language as always, angst and some tiny fluff (probably not in the way you want), alludes to sex, Odin. one malec reference.

A/N: okay so, this chapter is different since it is mainly introspective about Loki's time in the 6 months he has been back in Asgard- so that's that about the timeline.

A/N2: I really hope you'll like it so let me know by reblogging and commenting! If you want to be on my taglist let me know by sending an ask! Thank you @chrissquares for the dividers! and the amazing @nacho-bucky

No one is allowed to repost my writing or steal or copy my work! Reblog on tumblr is fine.

Series masterlist

Song on Spotify and YouTube

Month one in Asgard.

"Brother I assure you all will be well. I'll make sure she will be safe." Thor had told him that before he left for Midgard.

The gesture was nice but while he did want you to be safe he didn't want to know who you are hanging with.

You'll find a way to move on and so will he. Once this all will be over Loki will finally get some peace and his life will return to normal, nothing lasts forever after all.

Life as a prince was supposedly comfortable, and so a prince's chambers should be as well. But as he was lying on the big soft bed in his large room, he couldn't have felt more alone. The bed was too big, the sheets were too cold, and the surfaces of the room were too empty of life- he could find a million faults to his room if he tried.

Loki didn't stay in his room often then, as a prince he could do whatever he wants and he could go anywhere he wants- well, almost.

Sparring was a great hobby he developed when he was angry, having a chance to politely beat down another person often sounds delightful to him then. It was almost empty now at the sunset but he found an opponent.

He could feel and hear his own heartbeat as he took in a breath and looked into the sunset as the warrior took his stance in front of him.

'The Norse Gods are almost immortal.'

The sentence lingered in your head. Maybe buying this book was a bad idea. At the knock on your door you quickly shut the book and shoved it under the sofa cushion.

A moment later Loki walked in with a batch of freshly picked flowers, they didn't look like they were from around here, you only hoped these flowers can survive on their own so you wouldn't kill them.

"Hello my love, are you ready for our date?" you got up to him with a smile, he put the flowers in a vase that appeared on your table, once he was in your reach you gave him a peck on the lips.

"Yes, let's go!" The relationship was still new but you were happy that you still had that same chemistry that the two of you had before.

That sentence kept your mind busy as you drove out of the city, away from the crowd of people and into a high solitary space.

"I could've just teleported us there my love, you know that right?" he looked at you as you drove, the sun was shining over you and he couldn't look away. The view of you in the sunlight with your best dress and red lips is easily more stunning than anything he had seen in all the realms.

"Yes, but it's more fun this way." You insisted on having some of the dates be normal and human.

"How is driving for such a long time fun?" you saw him shake his head from the corner of your eyes.

"Just relax Loki, I'll put on some great driving songs." He groaned but you only laughed.

It was an hour or so later that you reached your destination- it was an amazing view seeing all the trees and rocks as you finally parked on the dry ground of the mountain hill spot you found for Loki and you.

Loki stepped outside and laid out the picnic you packed up as you looked down on the beautiful horizon as the sun began to set.

Loki came up behind you and curled his hands around your waist.

You could've stayed in that content moment forever. The sentence still lingered in your brain.

"Loki?" you called to him and he only hummed in response, his lips kissing your hair.

"Yes, darling?"

"Say you'll remember me." You asked him in a low voice.

"What?"

"Say you'll remember me, here at this moment, standing in a nice dress and staring at the sunset with you."

"I promise you my dear," he kissed your shoulder and you felt him smiling. "Every time I see you, I'll remember this moment. I'll relish it forever."

•

Month two in Asgard.

It was different, spending the time with her here was nothing like being with you there- but maybe that's a good thing.

He was trying to get used to all the same emotions he felt all those years go. The regret, the knowing that he has to let go completely, the anger and temporary solutions, and then there's the sadness.

It was a familiar process, but having you again just reminded him of everything he lost and how everything has changed after he first let you go.

The first time he let you go, it almost killed him. And now he didn't know how his own mind would work to survive this.

He spent days in meetings and peace negotiating. His father kept him busy whether it was with Iyllir or work, it didn't matter.

She was excited about the wedding- their wedding. He chimed him whenever she asked for his opinion.

"What do you think about the flowers? Besides the ones I already picked of course." The lady smiled at him and waited for his answer. Anything besides your favourite flower would be fine.

The only real thing in this month for him was the work he was doing- negotiating peace was not an easy task. Granted, he could've solved it long ago but where is the fun in that?

"It was a wise choice to listen to my advice. I'm sure your decision to marry soon to be Princess Iyllir will make everyone happy." Odin told Loki as he followed the Allfather into yet another meeting. Entering the room, Loki looked at the blonde who sat next to his seat- he wasn't supposed to be in this meeting.

Taking the seat next to him, Thor smiled at his brother.

"Brother," Loki greeted him and continued to look forward at the table. "Are you not supposed to still be in Midgard?"

"I am, but I returned for a bit," Thor lowered his eyes then. "I heard about the marriage, I'm happy for you."

His pat on the back felt gentler than the usual forceful ones. To Loki it was quite unsettling.

"To be quite honest, I thought you won't do it because-"

"Thank you brother, I look forward to the marriage, it's the right choice."

"Is it?" Thor asked his brother lowly, the meeting was already starting and Loki didn't respond but it was probably best to leave this topic for now. Thor had never seen his brother the way he was when he was with you, it was clear that you mean a lot to him, so it made it that much more worrisome that Loki was going to go through with the arranged marriage. Thor knew Loki would've easily gotten out of it if he wanted to.

•

Present day on Midgard.

"Why are you all staring at me?" Thor stood there with all of his friends from work looking at him silently.

Natasha was the one to break the silence, "Y/N has been kidnapped and we think the Asgardian problem that we have on our hands right now was the cause of it."

"Y/N has been kidnapped?" His brows furrowed and he put his hammer on the table. "When did this happen?"

"Last week, you weren't here."

"I had to attend a ball for my brother and…" he trailed off.

"Right, I'm sure the wedding was lovely." The captain retorted.

"We really don't need to talk about," Wanda started and looked between Pietro and Clint.

"The wedding hasn't occurred yet." Thor settled in a seat right in front of Steve. "Did you manage to find out where she might be?"

"If we did then she would've been home by now."

"No, we've got nothing so far." Nat glared at Steve before she returned to look at Thor.

"Well you could've told me sooner, I'm sure my brother will be able to help."

"What? Are you crazy?" Steve let out a bitter laugh and stood up. One of his hands was a fist on the table and the other was pointing at Thor. "He is not coming anywhere near here."

The dark tone in Steve's voice left no room for arguments. Tony only heard it once before and so he took Steve out of the room before anything could happen.

•

Month three in Asgard.

"I see that you've read the books that I recommended you already." Iyllir sat next to him on the dark blue couch in the large palace library. Gold and blue were all around and the smell of old books filled the air.

"Yes they were very interesting," She put a hand on his arm delicately. "You have incredible taste in books my prince."

He nodded at that and quickly picked up one of the books from the pile that was set aside on the table. The guide to the old weapons of the nine realms- he remembered reading it as a child, he used to sneak into the vaults and look around at all the hidden things he found there that he read about in his books. Whatever he didn't recognize he would pick it up and study it. There may have been a couple of accidents there- but come on, what did you expect?

Now the book let his mind wander to the happenings on earth. He heard Thor talk about how it is going there in hushed whispers, but he never stuck around to actually hear anything in fear it would be about you.

He didn't need to know how you were doing, who you were hanging with or what you were up to.

"Loki?" He got snapped out of his thoughts. He looked back at Iyllir who had an unreadable look on her face, he found it hard to read people when he was so caught up inside his own mind, but her face soon took on a gentle smile. "You drifted off a bit. You're here with me now, there's no need to dwell over anything- so let's leave this book aside, it seems to put you in a bad mood."

Iyllir took the book from his hands and put it behind her. She then linked her hand with his and caressed his arm, her head leaning on his shoulder.

His mind now wandered to her and their wedding that was coming soon. Iyllir did manage to put herself in his mind where you should be, so maybe this was the right call after all.

Loki smiled at her and they continued to engage in conversation.

•

Month four in Asgard.

It was hard to admit that he enjoyed Iyllir's company.

Her lips were soft, and he appreciated the way they made thoughts disappear from his brain.

"Did you really turn into a snake?" Iyllir's laugh joined his as he recalled the memory.

"He was quite shocked, we were eight at the time."

"That was quite clever of you, my prince." She laughed and let her head fall onto his chest as they lay in his bed, covered in green silky sheets.

"Well, I'm always clever."

"Now you're just giving yourself too much credit, you are not always clever." You laughed at him.

He shook his head and turned back to her.

"What do you think about going out of the castle for a bit, go for a couple of days to a small cabin far away from other asgardians just the two of us?"

She nodded enthusiastically and leaned up to a kiss.

•

"This place is beautiful, but I wish we would've brought maids with us- you shouldn't do any of these things, you're a prince. I sent a letter so hopefully the servants will get here soon."

"Oh, I was quite content with using my magic, but how thoughtful of you."

"Now you'll get to spend more time with me." She whispered to him and walked over to him, putting her hands around Loki's neck.

He pulled her closer.

"That is true." He said in between kisses, moving the two of them backwards until Iyllir's knees touched the bed.

"You know, it is not really proper for a man and woman to be in bed together like this before their wedding night." She moaned at the kisses he trailed down her neck.

"When did I ever care about such formalities, my dear?" she let out a breathy laugh as he laid her on the mattress and he hovered above her. "And I know for a fact that you don't either."

Loki was in bed, opening his eyes and seeing the redheaded girl still sleeping next to him, her bare back shone in the sun. They were twisted in bed sheets, and Loki looked back up at the ceiling and tried to go back to sleep, closing his eyes.

"Loki, come cuddle me, I'm cold." Your sleepy voice called out to him.

"Okay, love." He moved himself closer to the body next to him. Opening his eyes for a second, he got snapped back to reality when he realized that you weren't the one in his bed, he was cuddling someone who wasn't you.

He shook his head and tried to fall asleep when Iyllir pressed back against him.

•

Month five in Asgard.

The ballroom was massive and adorned with gold and touches of green. The people there were ecstatic about the upcoming wedding.

The crowded room was full of people drinking mead and eating and dancing. But it all seemed just a bit too much for him.

Never in his wildest dreams did he think this will happen to him that this would be his life. Every girl was here with the most beautiful dresses but all he could remember was you, dancing with him in your best dress, you could easily beat any girl here with that dress and your beauty.

Loki was seated next to the Allfather and Iyllir, watching over the room as more and more new asgardians came to pay their respects and congratulate the happy couple. Thor came up behind them and patted Loki on the back before he took him away to drink.

According to Thor it was a necessity.

After that he had a dance with his soon to be wife, only a few kisses were engaged, Loki didn't like being as affectionate out in the open, in front of so many people.

The dance ended and the mead started to kick in, and if he was honest it was quite amusing to see Thor drunk as he talked, or more so yelled, to his friends.

After the ball he didn't see Thor as much, he must be busy with… whatever that was happening on Midgard. He won't let himself think too much about it, so he kept himself busy with wedding preparations and council meetings.

He spent the month buried in work during the day, and clearing his head during the night.

•

Present day in Midgard.

"Tony, I already told you that her powers don't have any energy trackers that we can build on."

"Bruce, we already scoured hydra bases. We found no information about her." Tony looked at the screen in front of him before pushing it aside, startling Bruce. "Sorry."

The doors to the lab opened and they turned to see Thor coming in with a short smile.

"Have you got any news about Lady Y/N?" he looked around the room anxiously, his next words would certainly get a reaction from the two scientists. "Do you need my brother's help?"

"Thor, I don't think that's a good idea." Tony exchanged a look with Bruce and he rubbed his eyes. "But no, we still don't know where she is."

"Why refuse his help?" Thor's voice grew louder. He then looked at the door when it opened for Steve and Wanda.

"We already told you Thor, we don't want his help." Steve chuckled darkly, so Wanda put her hand on the captain's shoulder then, trying to ease the tension.

"Thor, this isn't something Loki can help with, this is hydra."

"He will still do whatever he can, he still cares for her-"

"Besides, he is probably busy preparing for his wedding, isn't that right?"

"You are being judgmental Steve," Thor came towards Steve. "You're not thinking rationally."

"Oh I am judging him just right. If you're only here to try and vouch for your brother than you may as well go."

"Steve!" Wanda called him but he didn't budge his stare from the Asgardian prince.

Thor left shortly after.

Steve ignored the stares.

•

"Father, the elves are calming down, if we send some aid we could make sure peace is settled." Loki talked to his father in the throne room.

"If we send aid, they could use it against us. They could just be faking submission." Loki held back a laugh.

"I'm not the god of lies for nothing father, I'd be able to tell if they were faking it. Trust me about this." The doors opened with a bang, shutting behind the blonde prince as he strode towards Loki.

"My son, what are you doing here?"

"Loki," Thor ignored his father and Loki got up and looked at Thor at the strange occurrence. "Y/N has been kidnapped, you need to come back."

"She what?" His heartbeat sped up and he could feel the warm sensation of anger rise in him from the fear.

"Who is this girl?" Odin looked between his two sons when none answered. "Thor?"

"A girl from Midgard, she's an Avenger." He looked over Loki and nodded his head, he needed to be the one to talk.

"She's just a girl that I knew from Midgard." He said to his father with his jaw clenched, then he turned to Thor. "Thor, what happened?"

"They think she's got taken because of her powers, or because of the Asgardian technology that was stolen."

"My sons, you will answer to the questions I pose. Now tell me, what powers does she posses? If she has a part in the problem we have on Midgard then I deserve to know that."

Thor nodded, encouraging Loki to speak up.

"She has the power to insert herself into people's minds and control what they see and feel." He shook his head at his father. "She has no role in this father, she should not be mixed with Asgardian business."

The Allfather was quiet then before he shifted in his throne.

"Son, you know her for quite some time isn't that right?" Loki nodded and looked down.

"And you seem to care for her, too." He was no longer asking but Loki found himself nodding anyway. "Did she know about you being an Asgardian?"

"Yes, she knew who I was."

"So have you ever used your magic on her?" Loki was halfway into shaking his head before he stopped and remembered that night he spent comforting you, sitting on the tile of your bathroom.

"Only once," he thought back at the ancient spell.

"Tell me now my son, has it ever crossed your mind that such powerful magic as the one you have will affect a mortal immensely?"

"What are you saying father?" Thor looked up at Odin.

"It was a powerful spell…" Loki was still in thought about his actions that night, he must have been emotional.

"Her powers can be of Asgardian source, the mortal's powers sound like old Asgardian magic- the reality stone that was stored here long ago. The spell must have been from those ancient time, and so it stored immense powers- the kind that a mortal could not bear."

"So is that why they took her? Because of my magic, they took her because of me." Loki mumbled to himself.

"Loki, no don't say that-"

"It's true Thor! I'm going to get her back." Loki didn't wait for Odin to object before he all but ran out of the door. Odin didn't object.

"Thor, go after him. If he finds her, he will find the rest of the stolen weapons." Thor nodded to his father before following his brother.

•

Steve looked at the papers scattered on the lab.

"This is a nightmare."

"I've had better nightmares." Natasha spoke from next to him. "You should go rest a bit, you look like hell."

He smiled at her but it barely reached his eyes. You were a part of his family, losing you is not an option. He didn't know where you were and he didn't want to think about what you may be going through.

He wasn't the only one who cared about you, he knew that, but it still felt like they don't understand.

He turned around to go get water, when he almost ran into someone.

Looking up he saw the blue eyes of the raven haired prince. His tiredness suddenly disappeared when he took in the cold demeanor and rage filled eyed.

"I've been away for six long months and meanwhile you let her get kidnapped just like that?" Loki's voice was low and Steve didn't notice Thor walk in right after Loki, he didn't hear Bucky calling him.

"You are not welcome here Loki, and don't talk about it as if it isn't your entire fault."

The answer he got was in a dark laugh.

"Oh captain, I'm afraid I'm way past asking permission." Loki moved past him. "How long was she gone?"

"Almost a month," Bucky replied, looking between Steve's clenched posture and the same one that Loki held. "Can you find her?"

"I'll do whatever it takes." He nodded to the soldier and Bucky recognized the vulnerability in his eyes.

"Her powers are Asgardian, they came from me." Loki looked at the different screens, the room was quiet. "Doctor Banner, do you think you could track my energy signature? She should have some part of it inside her."

Loki looked back at the doctor, awaiting a response.

"Yes, I will just need to take some of your-"

"Take what you need."

•

Tags: @ayybtch @buckys-other-punk @chaoticpete @madcrazy50 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @the-departed-potato @rogerrhqpsody @onceupona-happilyeverafter-love @percabethismyotp14

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tiesandtea · 3 years

Link

Simon Gilbert

Simon Says

We interviewed Simon Gilbert, Suede’s drummer, whose book So Young: Suede 1991-1993 is a journal and photographic document of the band’s early years that will be published October 8th. So Young has foreword by journalist Stuart Maconie and a vibrant, lively text by Simon himself, documenting his move from Stratford-on-Avon, his hometown, to London, the audition with Suede, life in the van, the early success years and the many amusing things that come with it. It is one of those rare books that make an outsider feel like they were there, in the van. Or in absurd mansions in L.A. belonging to industry types. Or was it record producer(s)?…

The conversation extended to Coming Up, Suede’s third album that turned 25 this year and drumming. Simon’s witty, often, one-liners contrast with my more elaborate questions, proving an interesting insight into our way of writing/replying.

by Raquel Pinheiro

So Young: Suede 1991-1993

What made you want to realease So Young?

I was searching through my archives when researching for the insatiable ones movies and found lots of old negatives and my diaries. They had to be seen.

When and why did you start your Suede archives?

As you can see from the book, it stared from the very first audition day.

From the concept idea to publishing how long did it took you to put So Young together?

30 years … I’ve always wanted to make a book since I was first in a band.

What was your selection process for which items – diary entries, photos, etc.- would be part of the book?

I wanted to form a story visually with a few bits of info thrown in here and there, also most of the photos tie in with pages from the diaries.

Which methods, storage, preservation, maintenance, if at all, do you employ to keep the various materials in your archives in good shape?

Boxes in an attic … one thing about getting the book out is that I don’t have to worry about the photos getting lost forever. It’s out there in a book!

Other than medium what differences existed between selecting material for The Insatiable Ones documentary and for So Young?

Video and photos … photos don’t translate well on a TV screen.

Do you prefer still or motion pictures and why?

I prefer photos … they capture a particular moment in time … as video does, but there’s a unique atmosphere with a photo.

So Young’s cover photo has a very Caravaggio and ballet feeling to it. Its chiaroscuro also contrasts with the images inside. Why did you choose it for the cover?

It was a striking shot and I wanted the book to be black and dark …it fitted perfectly.

How many of the photos on So Young were taken by you?

Probably about 3/4 my 3 school friends who were there with me at the beginning Iain, Kathy and Phillip took a load of us onstage, backstage, after the gig, etc., photos I couldn’t take myself.

So Young can be placed alongside books like Henry Rollins’ Get in The Van and Michael Azerrad’s Our Band Could Be Your Life, that not only chronicle and show the less glamorous, more mundane side of being in a band, but also totally immerse the reader so deep in it that we are there, feeling and going through the same things. Was your selection of materials meant to convey that “band being your(our) life” sensation?

Yes, exactly that. I was fascinated by photos of bands, not on the front cover of a magazine or on TV. The other bits of being in a band are far more interesting.

In the foreword, Stuart Maconie mentions the brevity of your diary entries which, as someone who keeps diaries, I immediately noticed. Do you prefer to tell and record a story and events with images?

I haven’t kept a diary since the end of 1993 … looking back on them they can be a bit cringeful … So, yes, I prefer images.

Contrasting with the diary entries brevity your text that accompanies So Young is lively, witty, detailed and a good description of the struggles of a coming of age, heading towards success, band. Do you think the text and images reveal too much into what it really is like being in a band, destroying the myth a bit?

I think the myth of being in a band is long gone … Reality is the new myth…

In So Young you write that when you first heard Never Mind The Bollocks by The Sex Pistols music was to be your “future dream”. How has the dream been so far?

Still dreaming … lose your dreams and you will lose your mind … like Jagger said.

Is there a reason why So Young only runs from 1991 to 1993?

Yes, I bought a video camera in 1993. It was so much easier filming everything rather than take a photo, wait 3 weeks to get it developed and find out it was blurred.

So Young has a limited deluxe numbered and signed edition already sold out. The non deluxe edition also seems to be heading the same way. How important is it for you to keep a close relationship with the fans?

So important. I love interacting with the fans and is so easy these days … I had to write replies by hand and post them out in 1993…

Playing Live Again & Coming Up

Before Suede’s concert at Qstock Festival in Oulu, Finland on 31.07.2021 you wrote on your social media “cant fucking wait dosnt come close!!!!!” and Mat [Osman, Suede’s bassist] on his “An honest-to-goodness rehearsal for an honest-to-goodness show. Finally”. How did it feel like going back to play live?

It was great. Heathrow was empty which was amazing. A bit strange to play for the first time after 2 years …., but great to get out again.

Coming Up was released 25 years ago. How does the record sound and seems to you now compared with by then?

I haven’t listened to it for a long time actually … love playing that album live … some great drumming.

Before the release of Coming Up fans and the press were wondering if Suede would be able to pull it off. What was your reaction when you first heard the new songs and realize the album was going in quite a different direction than Dog Man Star?

Far too long ago to remember.

Coming Up become a classic album. It even has its own Classical Albums documentary. Could you see the album becoming a classic by then?

I think so yes .. there was always something to me very special about that album.

Is it different to play Coming Up songs after Suede’s return? Is there a special approach to concerts in which a single album is played?

No … didn’t even need to listen to the songs before we first rehearsed … They’re lodged in my brain.

Which is your Coming Up era favourite song as a listener and which one do you prefer as a drummer?

The Chemistry Between Us.

Will the Coming Up shows consist only of the album or will B-sides be played as well?

Definitely some B-sides and some other stuff too.

Simon & Drumming

If you weren’t a drummer how would your version of “being the bloke singing at the front” be like?

Damned awful … I auditioned as a singer once, before I started drumming … It was awful!

In his book Stephen Morris says that all it takes to be a drummer is a flat surface and know how to count. Do you agree?

No.

Then, what makes a good drummer?

Being in the right band.

Topper Headon of the Clash is one of your role models. Who are the others?

He is, yes … fantastic drummer.

Charlie Watts is the other great …and Rat Scabies … superb.

She opens with drums so does Introducing the band. Your drumming gives the band a distinctive sound. How integral to Suede’s sound are the drums?

Well, what can I say … VERY!

Do you prefer songs that are driven by the drums or songs in which the drums are more in the background?

Bit of both actually … I love in your face stuff like She, Filmstar …, but ikewise, playing softer stuff is very satisfying too.

You’re not a songwriter. How much freedom and input do you have regarding drum parts?

If the songs needs it, I’ll change it.

Do you prefer blankets, towels or a pillow inside the bass drum?

Pillows.

Do you use gaffer tape when recording? If so, just on the snare drum or also on the toms? What about live?

Lots of the stuff … gaffer tape has been my friend both live and in the studio for 30 years.

What is the depth of your standard snare drum and why?

Just got a lovely 7-inch Bog wood snare from Repercussion Drums … sounds amazing. It is a 5000 year old Bog wood snare.

Standard, mallets, rods or brushes?

Standard. I hate mallets and rods are always breaking after one song. Brushes are the worst …no control.

How many drum kits have you owned? Of those, which is your favourite?

5 … my fave is my DW purple.

How long to you manage without playing? Do you play air drums?

7 years 2003 – 2010 … and never.

Can you still assemble and tune your drum kit?

Assemble, yes …tune no …have never been any good at that.

You dislike digital/electronic drum kits, but used one during the pandemic. Did you become more found of them?

Still hate them … unfortunately, they are a necessary evil.

When you first joined Suede you replaced a drum machine. Would it be fair to say you didn’t mind taking its job?

Fuck him!

Brett [Anderson, Suede’s singer] as described the new album as “nasty, brutish and short”. How does that translates drums wise?

Very nasty brutish and short.

When researching for the interview I come across the statement below on a forum: “If you’re in a band and you’re thinking about how to go about this, get every player to come up with their own track list & have a listening party. I’ve done this, not only is it great fun, it’s also massively insightful when it comes to finding out what actually is going on inside the drummer’s head!”. What actually is going on inside the drummer’s head?

Where’s my fucking lighter!

And what is going on inside the drummer as a documentarist head? How does Simon, the drummer, differs from Simon, the keen observer of his own band, bandmates, fans, himself, etc.?

There is no difference … I’m Simon here there and everywhere…

What would the 16 years old Simon who come to London think of current Simon? What advice would you give to your younger self?

Don’t smoke so much you fool!

#simon gilbert #suede #so young book

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penguin251159 · 3 years

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I was tagged by @7nessasaryevils to do @sunsetknowsaboutyou 's tag game. Thanks so much for tagging me! Apologies for all the rambling answers that lay ahead.

1. your all time favorite bl and why

Right now it's Bad Buddy. I'm wraking my brain for another one that I loved as much as this but I can only think of Cherry Magic and the manga (and ova) Doukyusei that come close to the feeling I have for this show. Maybe we could say that it's cause I just finished it yesterday and it's the number one thing on my mind at the moment but, nah. I'm honestly pretty sure it's gonna be at the top of this certain list for a long time. Why is it my favorite? The characters and the natural chemistry between all of them. I liked the story and that it was relatively simple and it didn't veer off into a million different directions. This show almost felt real and had so much heart behind it. I said before that in only 11 episodes (up to that point) they had managed to put so many beautiful moments and so much love into them and i didn't know if I'd seen a show in recent memory (bl or not) that had been able to do the same, and those shows tend to have the same if not double the amount of episodes. And I will just...never be over the way they both stepped towards eachother on the rooftop and I will never be over Pat saying "No." and the way he said it when Pran asked if he wanted to be friends. I genuinely loved getting to watch the story unfold every week. Even when the darn previews made me nervous! It just made me so happy. Like...it made me feel the same sort of love for characters that The Princess Bride did, THAT'S where I'm at with this show lol.

2. that one bl that scarred you for life

Ok so, when I think about being scarred for life by a show or a movie I think about a movie like Requiem For A Dream that I could only watch once and it is forever burned into the back of my brain for better or worse. Like, just hearing the soundtrack will reduce me to a sobbing mess. The seagulls at the end?? Anyways. I haven't had that sort of reaction with any recent bl's. One that HAS had that sort of effect on me is, and idk if this technically counts here but I'm going with it anyway cause why not, Ai No Kusabi (the one from 1992 haha). That OVA messed me up and funnily enough had a a lot of stuff in it that I don't like but! It somehow still drew me in and then ripped my heart out. To this day I cannot listen to Eternal without singing along and crying. Seriously go find that song and try to tell me you don't feel the sadness?! Lol

3. is there any bl that made you feel very single?

Bad Buddy and Cherry Magic, without question.

4. if you could change one thing from a bl, which one would it be?

I mean there are a few tropes I'm not too fond of but!! The rampant lack of communication is high up on that list. I mean, honestly, that could be said about damn near every movie and TV show but it really kills me that it takes wayyyyy too much happening for characters to just talk to eachother? Like I get that it's scary or hard to open up and let yourself be vulnerable but...so much can be avoided by just TALKING! Lol, maybe that's another reason I loved Bad Buddy so much. Pat and Pran actually communicated most of the time and especially after they got together. It was like a breath of fresh air! I also really hate non-con/dub-con stuff. Cheap deaths that are for nothing other than to evoke pain and sadness of other characters. When characters get away with bullshit behavior with barely a slap on the wrist if anything at all (yes, I'm looking at you Wai!).

5. that one bl you detest (don’t hold back)

Idk if I have any bl's that I detest. If I start watching a show and stuff starts happening that I know won't sit well with me I have no problem dropping it and reading spoilers until I know it's fine for me to start watching again or just never pick it back up. That being said...shows that I couldnt necessarily get into were What The Duck and Theory of Love. I tried to watch them, I really did! But they just weren't for me.

6. your top five:

1. Bad Buddy

2. Cherry Magic

3. Trapped

4. Manner Of Death

5. 2gether

7. that trashy bl that you lowkey like

Why R U, I LOVED Saifah and Zon. Also YYY, that show was a MESS! It reminded me of older low budget independent movies I used to watch on The Sundance Channel lol, but it was so much fun and surprisingly sweet at times.

8. your favorite korean bl (it’s important we know)

I haven't seen many but I really liked Where Your Eyes Linger. But also, once again no idea if these really count since they're older, BUT! This movie called No Regret and this one short film called Just Friends? No Regret was a heavy movie to watch but it ended on a very hopeful note and the acting is SO GOOD! I liked it so much that I actually bought the DVD and Just Friends? was sweet and had bonus musical moments pop up out of nowhere lol.

9. but also your top 3 for kbls

1. No Regret

2. Where Your Eyes Linger

3. My Sweet Dear

10. season 2? which one?

Bad Buddy cause I already miss it. But maybe just as special episodes like they did for 2gether and not a full on season? Whatever they put out, if anything, I'd enjoy though. I won't be picky!

11. a bunch of dramas will air soon. which ones are you the most excited for?

Vice Versa, Moonlight Chicken, The Eclipse, Kinnporsche and I know there's more but I forgot lol

Idk who to tag, haha! If anyone that follows me wants to fill this out too, have at it!

#tag #about #never done this before so let's hope i didn't screw up? lmao

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scullydubois · 4 years

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Only the Light: Ch. 8

Scully deals with the trauma of her nightmare when she and Mulder meet BJ in the park; a migraine leads Scully to breakdown to her sister.

[this is an especially angsty part...TW for mild implication of rape]

------------------

The rest of their breakfast passes without fanfare. After their conversation about love languages, neither feels like diving into particularly deep topics. Mulder spends their meal providing commentary on the songs other customers picked off the jukebox, turning Scully into a captive audience who occasionally nods, chuckles, or otherwise utters a phrase of approval. It’s not that they’re bored of each other, but that they feel they should preserve their energy for the taxing conversations sure to come along with the case. The electricity between them lingers in the air, waiting for a match to spark it. When the waitress asks if they want to split the bill, Mulder gallantly insists that he will take care of it, then pulls out the Bureau credit card with a wink his partner’s way. To Scully, his wink feels like a lighter flaring into flame. A brief moment of blaze, there and then gone again. One day, she swears to herself, one day she will let him ignite her heart.

Back in the car, they buckle up and reacclimate themselves with 1994. The local country music station hums in the background, too low to make out any lyrics. It’s just a few stoplights to the park, not even long enough to get through an entire song.

They find BJ at a picnic table nestled among Aubrey’s fall colors. She notices them first, waves them over. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” Mulder says as he and Scully take a seat across from the detective.

Scully is struck by reality’s intrusion on the version of BJ she met in her nightmare. BJ is not heavily pregnant; she does not even show. She’s not covered in blood either, but looking polished in a pantsuit. Yet the sight of her conjures up vivid images from the dream, ones that Scully hoped would stay hidden in her psyche forever. The resolute darkness of Duane Barry’s eyes, like his soul had been sucked out of him. The way droplets of blood splattered when he pulled BJ by the collar. And the image of her own body, how it had been desecrated and she hadn’t felt a thing. She felt nothing.

“How are you, BJ?” she asks, her voice stiffer than intended.

BJ rests her hands on the wooden table. “I’m okay.” Then-- “I’ve made some decisions.”

Scully nods, not wanting to pry. The three of them sit with the silence. Sometimes this is all you can do. Her courage gathered, BJ looks to Mulder.

“I don’t know if Agent Scully told you, but I’m pregnant. It’s Tilman’s. It’s made things...complicated.”

“I’m sure,” Mulder replies, not particularly moved by this announcement.

“I don’t think it will impact the case in any way, but I wanted to be open with you. Staying quiet about it was only making the situation tougher.”

“Well, thanks for sharing.”

Scully shoots Mulder a look, as if to chastise his blase attitude toward BJ’s courage. He doesn’t see it, which makes her feel oddly guilty, like she had talked about him behind his back.

Across the park, a little girl plays with her dog. They run through a pile of leaves together, and she takes a tumble.

“Ow!” the girl exclaims loud enough to be heard throughout the park. BJ stands up, her gaze snapping toward the sound. Scully turns, fighting the urge to join BJ. The girl’s mother bends to check the girl for injury and seeing that she’s okay, sets her on her feet. BJ exhales, joins the agents back at the table.

“The mothering instinct,” BJ monologues. “I've been feeling it a lot lately. I used to hate it when my mother hovered over me. I swore I'd never be like her.”

Scully’s throat tightens. She felt the gravitational pull too. I mean, she’s always liked kids, but she’s not sure she would be a good mother and so she’s tried not to think much about it. Certainly her situation is unfavorable for motherhood. What kind of life would it be for a kid to have their mother gone all the time? She knows what it’s like to tuck herself into bed without a goodnight kiss and a bedtime story...to feel like an afterthought in a parent’s life. It made her push herself harder, trying to shed the inadequacy her father must have seen in her. And still she fell short. Is it all in her head, this fledgling maternal instinct? Or is it a sign of changing brain chemistry?

“I think we all feel that way at some point or another,” Mulder says. For a moment, Scully thinks he’s read her mind. She’s about to ask him whether there’s such thing as a paternal instinct when BJ continues on--

“My father was a cop. A good cop. That's all I ever wanted to be. He'd say what we're doing here is nonsense. That you can't solve a crime from a dream.”

Scully is somewhat relieved to know that she’s not alone in failing to measure up to a father’s expectations. This is not the point of the conversation, but this is what her mind latches on to. Her own father felt that the X-Files was a waste of time,, and she could never put into words why the work was so fulfilling to her. It’s not medicine; the results aren’t as obvious. Yet she can’t help but feel like she and Mulder are tuning into a rarely heard frequency, listening to its message, and passing it on. Little by little that will change the world, won’t it?

“Well, I've often felt that dreams are answers to questions we haven't yet figured out how to ask,” Mulder offers, rising to meet the gravity of the moment. Scully wonders what question her nightmare was answering. She shudders at the thought.

---------

Her skull feels like it’s being cut in half with a chainsaw, there is no other way to put it. She’s lying stretched out on her motel bed, a washcloth over her eyes, praying the pain away. Migraines aren’t a common occurrence for her, but she recalls all the times her mother would turn off the television, pull the curtains, and lay flush in her recliner in an attempt to ward off the pain. As little as she was, Scully would pull a step stool over to grab a glass from the cabinet, then fill it with water and bring it to her mother like a dog itching for a treat. She’d get a ‘thank you’ from her mom’s quiet, steady voice and sometimes a pat on the head, but nothing she could subsist on. She always wished for a little more to fill the deficit in herself. Now she understood. Pain chips away at your capacity for love.

What had started as a dull roar now felt more like the scream of a banshee. It came on suddenly around 4 while she and Mulder were reviewing the evidence of the 1942 murders. Their day had been pretty slow, one of paperwork and manila folders and bureaucracy. Not a lot of progress on the case. It’s as if her brain weren’t working hard enough, and so decided to punish her by making work impossible. She let on nothing of her plight until the way back to the motel when she leaned her head against the window and Mulder asked if she was okay. She responded nonchalantly, saying it was just a headache, and he in his savior complex offered to stop for Aspirin, but she insisted she had some in her suitcase. She did--a bottle with only two left--and she took them both. So far they’ve done nothing to combat the pain.

It occurs to her that her ardent desire to avoid coming off as a damsel in distress doesn’t exactly mesh with Mulder’s tendency to be the hero. What is she to make of that? Nothing, not in her current state of mind.

She lies there, wonders if it’s reached a late enough hour to change into her pajamas. She can’t deal with the monotony of the shower tonight, not even if Mulder’s on the other side. She turns, glances at the digital alarm clock. 8:09pm. Certainly that’s appropriate pajama time, right? She can never be sure that Mulder won’t come knocking on her door with a new interpretation of the evidence for her to shoot down or a theory somehow more outlandish than his original. She likes that they keep each other on their toes, but tonight that’s not where she wants to be.

Her head berates her for sitting up. She figures that if that’s wishful thinking, changing clothes will be too, so she lays right back down. She has gotten very used to ending up back where she started.

Seeing as modern medicine is failing her, she decides to try meditation. Missy swears by it, but Scully doesn’t see the benefit of willingly turning off your brain. She can hear her sister now: “It’s not about turning off your brain, it’s about transcending your thoughts and being present with the world.” Since when am I not present with the world, she always wants to reply. She can’t afford not to be present with the world.

But the older sister always has some semblance of sway over the younger one, so Scully closes her eyes and listens to the nothingness of the room around her. Well, it’s not exactly nothing, but nearly so. The mini-fridge, which she doesn’t dare touch even if the bill isn’t her responsibility, hums like it has something to prove. The remaining leaves on the trees in the parking lot rustle with the wind. In the adjacent room, Mulder’s TV is on. She can hear the droning chitter-chatter of sports commentators. Baseball, probably. That’s played in the fall, right?

She slips out of active listening and into mindless musing on her lack of sports expertise. Her father was never a sports junkie himself, but her brothers were. She was often made the referee of their wrestling matches or t-ball games, having been deemed more impartial than Melissa. And yet her understanding of plays and pitches and batting averages never progressed from there. She could name all 206 bones in the body in alphabetical order, but she couldn’t tell you what 3rd down meant. Usually she doesn’t care, but at the moment, this is making her indescribably sad.

Overcome by her isolation, she grabs the phone off hook, dials her own number. Melissa picks up right before it stops ringing.

“Hello?”

“Missy…” she doesn’t know it’s going to happen until she opens her mouth and tears fling themselves down her face.

“Dana, what’s wrong? Did something happen? Are you safe?” Missy’s voice is concerned but controlled, like a 911 operator.

“I-I’m okay,” Scully manages, in probably the least convincing delivery ever.

“Where are you?”

“I’m in the motel. Mulder and I are safe, we’re okay,” she stammers.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Melissa says with utter calm.

“My head is pounding, Missy, and I know mom used to get migraines, but I’ve never felt anything like this before--” Her voice catches, a sob slips out. “And I’m scared, Missy. Something’s wrong with me.”

“It sounds like you need medical attention, honey.” Melissa always knows when to slip in a term of endearment. “Can Mulder take you to the hospital?”

“No, no, it’s not like that.” She squeezes her eyes shut, sees stars. She hopes Mulder can’t hear her crying. The embarrassment of hurting is almost worse than the hurt itself. She pulls the bed sheet over her head like some over-dramatic teenager. She wouldn’t be able to look Mulder in the eye if he heard this next part.

She sniffles. “I’m six days late, and I’m never late, and I can’t be pregnant unless…” She wonders what would happen if she just stopped the sentence there and never spoke of it again. Could she do that? Would Melissa mind?

She lets the bottom drop out from under her. “...unless they did something to me.” The words are barely audible, she hates to have them on her tongue. Worse still, she’s not even the subject in her own sentence. She’s the object, of course.

She hears Missy take what she’s deemed “a cleansing breath.” Then--”Can you come home? Tonight, tomorrow morning?”

“I...What would I tell Mulder?” Her tears have stopped flowing, but her brokenness still lives in her voice.

“Anything. That I locked myself out of the apartment, that it’s mom’s birthday, maybe the truth. That man will listen to whatever you say. He’s not gonna stop you.”

“Well, I have to tell the FBI something.”

“Say you have a family emergency. Or that you’re experiencing trauma from work-related events. You don’t owe them anything, Dana.”

Scully knows this, but could never operate as if she actually believed it. The FBI is her job, her duty, her choice. How can she be up in arms about something she wished upon herself?

She takes as deep a breath as the pain in her head will allow. “I’ll fly out tomorrow morning.”

“Call me with the deets before you take off. I’ll pick you up.”

“Okay.” Scully feels a rush of safety, of being held & supported. “Thank you,” she breathes. Missy has saved her from herself.

“You’re welcome. And Dana…?”

“Yes?”

“We’re gonna figure this out. Whatever it is, we’re gonna figure it out.”

Scully flutters her eyelids shut, feels the temptation of tears at the back of them. “I know...Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Missy echoes. “Get some rest, and try not to worry. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Scully wonders what gene her sister has that gives her such a distinct ability to say the right thing every time. She wishes she hadn't missed that boat. How much easier would life be?

She notices that Missy has refused to hang up first. “Goodnight, Missy,” she says into the phone.

“Goodnight, Dana. Sleep well.” Her words are a balm to the soul.

Scully puts the phone back on the hook, feeling like Missy just put hope back in her vocabulary. Hope or belief? Which is stronger?

#the stakes...they are getting higher #the x-files #txf fic #missy & scully fic #only the light fic #mine #fox mulder #dana scully #melissa scully

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magic-miraculous · 5 years

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Daminette December-- So Close (And Yet So Far), Chapter Seven “Dancer AU”

(The song they're dancing to is 'Teeth' by Five Seconds of Summer. I'd recommend listening to it while reading to get the mood.)

(Also, I really wish I was a professional choreographer or something because I can picture this routine in perfect detail but I am terrier at instructing people and also I can't dance to save my life so for now and forever this masterpiece is stuck in my brain)

———————————————————————————————————–

“Please?” Marinette begged.

“No. Not a chance,” Damian replied.

There was silence for a moment, and Damian almost wondered if Marinette had hung up on him. He would never admit it, but when she spoke again he was a little startled.

“If you don’t help me, I’m destroying the jacket you commissioned me to make,” she told him. Normally, she wouldn’t resort to blackmail, but she was desperate. Her partner was MIA, and nobody else was around to take their place for practice. Felix had a chemistry exam that afternoon, Claude was off campus, Allan was at a track and field meet, and Allegra was working on her own project for the same class.

Damian groaned. “Seriously? All this for one dance?”

“It’s my midterm dance!” she told him. He was sure if she was standing in front of him, her face would be all red and she’d be staring up at him angrily, acting like she was actually intimidating (she was to others, of course, but not to him).

“Fine, fine,” he conceded. “But I’m not going to be happy about it.”

---------

When Damian arrived at the dance studio, Marinette was already at the barre, doing stretches and hyping herself up. The dance was an intricate one that required a lot of energy and confidence, and she needed time to prep.

"You know I'm not familiar with the routine, right?" Damian asked as he entered the studio. Marinette jumped in surprise but was quickly able to steady herself again.

"Don't worry, I learn best by teaching," she told him. "Now come on, we have to stretch." She neck Ned for him to join her at the barre, and for the next twenty minutes they stretched and Marinette once again apologized for the last-minute request.

"If Thomas was able to be here, he would," Marinette told her interim partner. "But to be honest with you, I don't know if he's as invested in the piece as I wish he was. It requires a lot of emotion and storytelling without saying a word. But basically, just so you have an idea, the plot is a fighting couple, where the guy--that's you-- is trying to repair the relationship, while the girl--me-- is not as innocent as she seems and isn't exactly a good influence on her partner. It ends poorly.

And I'm not expecting you to be perfect at it, but I need someone here to work off of, if that makes sense." Damian nodded in understanding before she continued. "Okay, good. You ready?"

"Why not?" Damian asked.

Marinette laughed and grabbed a remote off the ground by her bag in the corner, and the song they were dancing to started playing. She slipped the remote into her pocket for safekeeping.

"I'm just going to show you my part first, then I'll show you yours, then I'll help you when we put them together," she said over the booming music.

/Some days you're the only thing I know/Only thing that's burning when the nights grow cold/Can't look away, can't look away/Beg you to stay, beg you to stay, yeah/

Marinette performed the first few moves with grace and poise. She looked like she'd been dancing her whole life. Her expression changed, and her normal smile was replaced with a calculating smirk as she started to tell her story with the music.

After the first few bars were over, she grabbed the remote and paused the music. "Okay, now here's your part."

She wasn't as proficient with the guy's part as her own, which made sense, but Damian knew that someone who didn't understand dance wouldn't see a single thing wrong with her performance.

"Do you think you can do that?"

"I won't be as good as you, but I can try." He could have sworn he saw a blush on Marinette's face for a minute, but that might've been a trick of the light or from her dancing.

Marinette started the music again and the two danced together this time. Damian had greatly underestimated his own capabilities, it seemed, as he was easily able to recreate and execute Marinette's steps, even adding a little flair of his own in the fly. Marinette was undoubtedly impressed, and in her head she thanked fate for making everyone else unavailable that day so she could dance with Damian.

"Wow, that was fantastic!" she told him. "Ready for the next part?"

"Yes, I think I am."

The music started again from the beginning. Marinette did the first steps again, but this time she kept going and added in the next few steps.

/Sometimes you're a stranger in my bed/Don't know if you love me or you want me dead/Push me away, push me away/Then beg me to stay, beg me to stay, yeah/

They repeated the same routine as before, Marinette beautifully executing the steps she choreographed (Damian was surprised to learn that she made the routine on her own, and that her partner was unable to help her due to what Damian believed was utter incompetence but Marinette called 'personal reasons' and the fact that he had never danced before this class), Damian surprising Marinette with his ability to catch on to and individualize the routine.

It was at the bridge of the song when things changed.

/Blood on my shirt, rose in my hand/You're looking at me like you don't know who I am/Blood on my shirt, heart in my hand, still beating/

"So with this part, you're going to get down on one knee and hold out a rose to me," Marinette said, demonstrating. "Allegra promised that she'll sit in the front so she can throw the rose to Thomas when this part of the song starts because neither of his can hold it during the rest of the song, and then he'll throw it back to him or backwards on the stage, whichever feels right in the moment. That part isn't as relevant. Meanwhile, I'll be doing a pirouette, and when I stop I'll hold my hand out to you. You won't grab it the first time, but you will the second time. So it's," she stopped to demonstrate.

"'Blood on my shirt,'" she said, putting an accent on shirt as she stopped spinning. "You stay on the ground, then for the 'You're looking at me' part, you're going to get up quickly and do this." She demonstrated the action, pretending she was him and he was her. "Then you'll get back on your knee for the second 'Blood' part, and for 'Still beating' You'll grab my hand after the pirouette and I'll pull you up."

/Fight so dirty but your love so sweet/Talk so pretty but your heart got teeth/Late night devil put your hands on me/And never, never, never, ever let go/

"This part is going to be different than before too," she told him. "There's less movement, but there is needs to be sharp and powerful. After 'Beating' we're going to stay in that position until 'Sweet', when we're going to move like this, away from each other," she said. "Then, on 'teeth,' we move again. Then we wait until 'me,' and this is where we come back together," she added, demonstrating the move by putting her hand on his chest and grabbing one of his hands with the other. She stared up into his eyes before asking, "Got it?"

"Yeah," he muttered, staring right back at her for a moment before remembering who he was, who she was, what they were doing, where he was. "Uh, yes. Yes, I've got it," he stammered, acting very unlike himself. "Got it down. What's next?"

Marinette gave him a playful and reassuring smile. "Then we do the chorus moves again, but we end with me letting go of your hand and turning away while you falling to the ground in despair. It's super depressing, I know, but I felt that it was the best ending for the story."

"I agree," Damian said. "Maybe we should just start again from the top if the rest is all the same as we've done before?"

"Sounds good to me!" Marinette said, and the music began from the beginning.

BONUS:

The duo was unstoppable. If anyone had walked in during this run of the routine, they would have undoubtedly assumed at least one, if not all, of the following things:

1) Damian and Marinette were both professional dancers. No doubt about it.

2) They had fantastic chemistry.

3) They were dating. Or at least hopelessly and secretly in love with each other.

4) Whatever they were dancing for, they would blow everyone else out of the water.

All of those things were correct. Or at least, they soon would be.

———————————————————————————————————–

And it’s back! Chapter seven, after all this time!

I’m going to try to post at least two more chapters before New Year’s Eve. Day 8 is currently in production, but I also have some other stuff going on (on Tumblr and irl) so I’m trying to balance. Thanks for being patient.

Lmk if you want to be added to the tags. Also, all chapters are now up on Ao3! :)

Tagstagstags:

@daminette-december2019 @ozmav @maribat-archive @dawnwave16 @bluerosette23 @18-fandoms-unite-08 @northernbluetongue @latinawithbooks @blue-peach14 @weird-pale-blonde-person @astridflies @annabellabrookes @iloontjeboontje @abrx2002 @valeks-princess @interobanginyourmom @vixen-uchiha @sofmimis @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @thesunanditsangel @crazylittlemunchkin @caffeinetheory @rebecarojas07 @kris-pines04 @mooshoon @winter-gardenflower @corabeth11 @royalchaoticfangirl @goblinwhoships @beaversuenightly @mindfulmagics @queenmj10

COMING UP NEXT: Chapter 8 “Robin Hood AU”

#daminette #daminette december #daminette december dancer au #day 7 #daminette december day 7 #marinette x damian #quantic kids #marinette x batfam #fanfic #wip #ao3 #maribat #maribat au #sarah does a thing #so close (and yet so far)#wow look i finally updated

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cherryrogers · 5 years

Text

Falling For You.

— Chapter 4

Pairing: Bucky x Fem!Reader

(Modern High School AU)

Warnings: Swearing, mild angst.

Synopsis: Unlike most teenagers, you had your life completely mapped out. You’d graduate high school, go off to the university of your dreams, and live the life that your parents always wanted you to. That was the plan.

Falling for Bucky Barnes, however, was never part of that plan.

Being ‘just friends’ isn’t enough. Becoming anything more is too much. But suppressed feelings can’t stay ignored forever, and you were about to learn that a lot sooner than you thought.

Inspired by the song ‘Fallingforyou’ - The 1975

A/N: thought that i should mention,,, this is a slow burn. if you don’t like slow burns, i totally understand, and this probably isn’t the fic for you. but if you’re painfully obsessed w them like i am, then please enjoy :))

Series Masterlist

__________________________________________

“You’re delusional, you know that, right?” Wanda grinned smugly, popping a strawberry into her mouth.

You sighed and leaned back in your seat. “I’m not delusional; I’m being realistic.”

It was Wednesday lunchtime, and after a long, confusing couple of days, you decided to tell Wanda about what happened between you and Bucky. You kept the details about Natasha to yourself, knowing that was personal to Bucky, but you told her about how he walked you home with your hand clasped in his and how you had a pretty meaningful conversation, hoping that she’d be able to help you with your feelings - aka, she’d tell you that it totally didn’t mean anything, you and Bucky were still just friends, and you could go back to your normal life. However, the girl definitely didn’t share that opinion on the situation.

“(Y/N), sweetie...” Wanda looked you in the eye. Oh no. Whenever the name ‘sweetie’ slipped from her lips, you knew she was about to say something that you didn’t want to hear. “You don’t spill out your heart to someone and proceed to hold their hand if you don’t... feel something for them.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

Chewing on your lip anxiously, you took a minute to process what your friend was saying to you. Was it possible that Bucky actually still had feelings for you? That he wanted to be with you? Telling you about Natasha was a big thing for him, and considering he’d never found the courage to tell you until recently, that must have meant something had changed in the way he felt about you, right? Bucky was a fairly confident guy, he certainly had no trouble flirting with you like it was second nature to him - which it probably was, at this point. But what he shared with you after leaving the diner, it showed another side to him. The side that had insecurities, that didn’t feel good enough, and for someone to show that part of themselves? That’s difficult, and it’s not something you just show anyone.

Fingers snapping in front of your face caused you to jump slightly, before shaking your head and bringing yourself back to the present. Wanda was giving you a look. A look that indicated she was expecting you to say something first.

“What?” You eyed her cautiously.

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

The girl rolled her eyes for the second time at you. “Well, do you feel something for him?”

“Wanda, you know I can’t-”

“I know, you can’t date anyone at the moment.” She interrupted you. “But wasn’t my question. Forget the whole dating thing - do you have feelings for Bucky?”

The question caused your heart to stop momentarily. Every time you happened to ask yourself that question, your brain immediately stopped working and forced you to think about something else. But here you were, sat in front of your best friend, whose eyes were pleading for you to be honest with yourself and tell the truth.

Bucky Barnes... he wasn’t just your friend. There, that was a start. Wanda was your friend - the one you asked for advice on anything and everything, the one who did your makeup for junior prom because you were clueless when it came to eyeshadow. Wanda was the one who you knew would be with you for the long haul.

As for Bucky? He... was different. He was the one who only had to crack a smile for your heart to flutter, the one who could make you laugh until your stomach ached, the one who had made you feel more comfortable in your year and a half of knowing each other than your parents had ever made you feel in your life. Bucky, however, was the one you were scared would slip through your fingertips if you weren’t careful.

You didn’t want to lose him, you couldn’t. Hypothetically, let’s say he liked you. If you showed no interest in him, he’d be hurt, and because you were the one who hurt his feelings, you’d be pretty upset too. But if you ended up crossing the line between friends and more than friends, it’d be too much for you, and it just wouldn’t be able to work. Again, that’d hurt him, and you maybe even more. To you, there wasn’t a winning situation for either of you, never mind the both of you at the same time.

Your feelings surround Bucky were clouded. They were there, that’s for sure. But what were you supposed to do with them?

Deciding to be honest, you nodded hesitantly to simply answer her question. You heard the girl exhale in relief, as if she was holding her breath the whole time you were wondering how to answer her. Wanda leaned her elbows on the table after feeding herself another strawberry, knitting her brows together with an empathetic look in her eyes.

“Look, if you don’t want to date anyone at the moment, that’s perfectly fine - nobody is forcing you to. But, you’re suppressing these feelings for Bucky because you think it’s good for you, when it’s actually anything but.”

“I-I know. But I can’t admit anything to him, Wanda. If the feeling isn’t mutual, it’s not gonna be the same between us. If he actually does... have feelings for me, then that’s gonna be even more of an issue.” You let out a frustrated breath, resting your chin in the palm of your hand. “I can’t tell him that I like him and then tell him that we can’t date. That just makes me an asshole.”

You couldn’t believe you were discussing the idea of telling Bucky you had feelings for him, after so damn long of scolding yourself internally every time he popped into your mind.

Wanda lowered her gaze for second, before biting her lip and flicking her eyes back up to you. “Okay, I’m gonna propose a solution. And before you get annoyed with me, let me explain myself.”

After nodding unsurely, your friend began speaking again. “I think you need to tell Bucky how you feel-”

“No way. Did you listen to a word I just-”

“I told you to let me explain!” Wanda groaned, causing you to reluctantly stop talking as you gestured a hand for her to carry on. “Bucky cares about you a lot - anyone with eyes can see that. Do you really think he’d want you to hide his feelings for him if it was hurting you? Even if he didn’t feel the same?”

She was right. Bucky wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself just for his benefit. But that’s only if he didn’t like you back. Wanda seemed pretty convinced that he reciprocated the feelings, but how could you be sure?

You were about to only sigh as a response, but the buzzing of your phone on your pocket distracted you. After pulling it out, you were surprised to see a text from the Maximoff twin that wasn’t sitting across from you.

Pietro: Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to do something after school today? Maybe grab dinner?

“Who’s that?” Wanda asked curiously.

The corner of your lips upturned as you read the message. “Your brother - he wants to know if I’ll grab dinner with him after school.”

Wanda remained quiet as you quickly typed out a reply.

You: Sure, I’d like that.

Pietro: Great, I’ll meet you outside the school gates.

Placing your phone back into your pocket, you narrowed your eyes at your friend, who was drinking her cherry soda with an innocent expression.

“What is it?” You questioned her, causing her to smirk slightly.

She put down her drink. “What about Pietro?”

“What about Pietro?”

“Could you ever see yourself with him?”

If you were drinking something at that moment, you would’ve done a spit take.

“See myself with Pietro? Wanda, what the-”

The girl raised her hands in defence. “I’m just asking! I honestly think he’s interested in you.”

“We’re friends.”

“You and Bucky are friends too.”

“That’s different.” You argued, wondering where the hell she got the idea of you and Pietro from. He wasn’t interested in you, why would he be? He was like Bucky, in a way. The boy could probably have any girl he wanted, because he was one of the sweetest guys you knew. You were pretty sure he wasn’t pining after you. “You know what? I can deal with how things are with me and Bucky, and I don’t want to date Pietro. I’m sure he’s not interested, and the same can be said for Bucky.”

“(Y/N)-”

“Can we just... talk about something else? Please?” You pleaded, fearing that your brain might shut down if you talked about your feelings for much longer.

Wanda acknowledged that you were genuinely done with the conversation, and managed to switch the subject to something that didn’t involve your dating life. However, her words were still stuck in your mind. Would it be better for you and Bucky if you just told him how you felt?

That was something to think about later. You had two classes left after lunch, the last one being chemistry with Bucky. You’d go out with Pietro, have a good time, and then you could go home and study the night away, just like you always did. You were so used to your daily routine, and dating wasn’t a part of that.

Bucky thought breaking up with Natasha made him a coward, but it actually made him pretty brave. He confronted his feelings directly - something that you couldn’t seem to do. You couldn’t ruin your routine, because you feared that doing so would ruin every other aspect of your life, including what you had with Bucky.

It was hypocritical, really. Telling Bucky that he could tell you anything, yet hiding the one thing you’d never told him at that exact moment. It wasn’t just him you were attempting to hide it from, but you were also desperately trying to prove to yourself that your feelings for him were non-existent. It was pointless, frankly. Because your feelings for him were so existent, that you could already imagine the damage it would do to tell him before even doing so.

Maybe you just wouldn’t tell him.

* * *

“Well, would you look at that.” Val grinned proudly down at the C on her chemistry paper, before turning to you and practically shoving the paper in your face. “I’m coming for your spot at the top of the class, (Y/N).”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you pushed the paper away from you. “See? Look what you can achieve when you don’t spend your whole weekend drinking.”

Val was one of those friends that you’d never hang out with in you free time, but you treasured the time that you spent with them in class. Even with Bucky sitting on the table behind you, you didn’t think chemistry would be the same without Val adding her commentary throughout the hour you were in the classroom.

“Crazy, right? I think I’ll treat myself to a drink this weekend to celebrate.” She leaned over to the other side of the bench to eye Bruce’s paper. “How about you, Banner? What did you get?”

“I got an A.” The boy replied quietly. Bruce Banner was the third person on your row of three, and he was smart smart. You wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up getting, like, seven PhD’s in the future. He kept to himself mostly, but was partial to conversing with Val if she ever had a science question she needed answering. While Bruce was probably smarter than you in general, you studied the exam questions like it was your job, meaning you usually ended up scoring a couple more marks than him.

Val sighed. “Of course, I don’t know why I asked.” She spun around on her stool to face the table behind you, consisting of her friend Thor, Steve and Bucky. Her eyes narrowed at Thor as he looked up at her. “I dare you to tell me you got an A, Thor...”

The blond beamed back at her. “What can I say? It’s my god-like abilities, I’m telling you.”

Thor was that one kid that despite never touching a textbook in their life, continued to receive A’s and B’s throughout the whole year, much to every other student’s annoyance.

The girl scoffed, swinging back around. “God-like? You wish. You’re just a nerd in disguise.”

Eventually, the teacher approached your table again and handed you your paper, face-down.

Oh no.

Flipping the paper over hesitantly, you took your bottom lip between your teeth, scanning your eyes across the red pen at the top of the page.

B - good work, (Y/N).

“Let me guess,” Val said sarcastically, not noticing your worried expression. “Little miss ‘always gets an A’ also got-”

“I got a B.” You muttered quickly, causing Val to leave her sentence unfinished.

The last time you got a B was in freshman year. Ever since the you first achieved an A on a test in high school, your parents expected nothing less, and you never let them down. Oh, lord. On top of the detention you weren’t sure if they knew about, they were about to find out that for the first time in three years, their daughter didn’t receive an A on a test - that wasn’t going to go down too well.

Since you hadn’t done any studying over the weekend, you hadn’t had time to go over everything you needed to for the test. You didn’t think it would result in you dropping to a B. Not that a B was bad, but it certainly wouldn’t be good enough for your parents.

Val had an apologetic look in her eyes. “Oh, well that’s still good! There’s nothing wrong with a B. In fact, I think a B is better than an A. This just proves that you’re too smart for these stupid tests-”

“Thanks, Val.” You let out a laugh, despite your evident anxiety. “I-I appreciate that. There’s nothing... nothing wrong with a B.”

After everyone received their tests back, the bell soon sounded and the class began to pack their stuff away. You felt a presence beside your table, but didn’t look up as you shoved your textbook back into your bag.

“(Y/N)?”

Sparing a glance to the side, you noticed Bucky eyeing you with a glint of concern. He knew that the lower grade was eating you alive. “Yes, Buck?”

The boy rocked back and forward on his heels. “It’s okay, you know. That you didn’t get an A.”

God, hearing it in his voice just made you feel worse. “My parents would beg to differ.”

“Your parents are in another city, far away from here. They can’t get mad at you when they aren’t even here, that’s not fair.”

You smiled sadly at Bucky, zipping up your bag. “It’s not fair, you’re right. But they don’t care about being fair, they only care about the fact that I haven’t been studying as much, and I’m sure they can’t wait to complain at me about it.”

The boy leaned his elbows on the table, leaning in closer to talk to you. The action made your body stiffen a little, but Bucky didn’t notice as his eyes searched yours for a hint of anything that wasn’t worry.

“How about I drive you home? You can ride on the back of my bike.” He offered, making you chuckle.

“If you think I’m getting on the back of that death-trap, you’ve got another thing coming, James.” Your sad smile turned into a small smirk as you spoke, allowing Bucky to feel slightly better that you weren’t as stressed about the grade. “Plus, I’m not heading home.”

Bucky’s brows raised curiously at your last statement. “Don’t tell me you’re heading to that damn library-”

“I’m not going to the library.” You smacked his bicep lightly, earning a laugh from him. “I’m going out with-”

“Buck?” Both of your heads snapped to the side at Steve saying his name. “Sorry, I didn’t wanna interrupt, but Sam and Nat are waiting for us in the parking lot; we should get going.”

Nat.

To take a wild guess, you assumed that he was referring to Natasha, aka, Bucky’s ex-girlfriend. Now, why the hell was she waiting outside of school for him and Steve? Why on Earth would Bucky want to- wait.

Your gaze landed back on Bucky, who seemed to be sending a glare towards his friend. Hm, maybe you weren’t supposed to know that Bucky was still buddy-buddy with his ex.

Awesome.

“Right, well I don’t wanna keep you from Nat.” You threw your bag over your shoulder, awkwardly taking a step back from Bucky, almost backing into Val who was chatting loudly to Thor next to you.

The boy stood up straight, tilting his head to the side guiltily. “Sweets, it’s not-”

“Bucky,” You clasped your fingers around the straps of your bag tightly, trying to contain whatever the emotion was that was running through you. “It’s fine. Honestly, it’s none of my business who you choose to hang out with.”

“Let me explain-”

“You don’t need to explain anything.”

“I just don’t want you to get the wrong idea-”

“Well, here’s an idea.” You raised your voice, internally thankful that half the class had already hurried out of the room before they could see you snap. “How about you start telling me the whole truth about things, rather than only the parts that are convenient for you?”

Bucky had nothing else to say to that, his mouth barely opening and closing as if he was attempting to come up with a response. Maybe you shouldn’t have raised your voice, but something had been off with Bucky recently. First, he didn’t even tell you about the year-long relationship he had with Natasha, and it was now being revealed to you that he was still somewhat friends with her. Like you said, it was none of your business. However, Bucky seemed to really want to explain things as soon as you found out something that he didn’t want you to know about.

“Uh oh, it looks like there’s trouble in paradise.” Val chimed in, before patting Thor on the shoulder and ushering him to leave the classroom with her. “Let’s leave the happy couple to it.”

Paradise. If only.

“I’ve gotta go.” You mumbled, following shortly behind Val and Thor, desperate to just find Pietro and forget about what just happened in the past five minutes.

Your steps soon came to a halt when you exited out of the building, feeling a hand wrap around your wrist gently. Whipping your head around, you were met with paranoid, blue eyes, and you almost felt guilty for not wanting to hear him out.

“Buck-”

“Sweets, please let me explain.”

Looking over at the school gates briefly, your eyes skimmed past a boy with platinum hair. He leaned casually against the brick wall, and after looking away from him, you let out a tired sigh.

“Call me later, okay? I can’t talk right now, I’ve gotta go and meet Pietro. And... and don’t call me that.”

Well shit - that was a clear indicator that Bucky was in trouble.

And Pietro. Bucky couldn’t help but clench his jaw slightly. He needed to make things right with you as soon as possible, but he couldn’t, because you were going out with Pietro. Not that he didn’t like the guy, but couldn’t he have chosen literally any other day to take you out?

Couldn’t you have chosen another day not to ruin things? The boy thought to himself. God, he’d really messed things up.

He wasn’t deliberately lying to you. It was like he said, Bucky didn’t want you to get the wrong idea about him and Natasha. Telling you that when they broke up wasn’t actually that last time that they talked would have you thinking that there were still feelings there... which there wasn’t.

And if you thought that he was still caught up with Natasha? It would only push you away, and that was the complete opposite of what he wanted.

“Bucky, I thought she knew...” The boy turned to look at Steve, who had followed him out of the school. “I wouldn’t have said anything if-”

“She would’ve found out eventually.” Bucky sighed, rubbing his jaw nervously. “I just... why am I hiding things from her, Steve? There’s nothing going on with me and Nat anymore, so why didn’t I just tell her that we’re still friends?”

He knew exactly why he didn’t tell you; the questions were more aimed at himself than Steve. The only person who he needed to hear the answers, however, was you. Bucky couldn’t keep doing this. Making you get mad at him because of his inability to be honest with you. While his intentions were never to hurt you, that seemed to be the reoccurring end result.

All he wanted was to keep you close, but apparently, his actions were doing anything but.

“Steve, Bucky?” The two boys hadn’t even noticed the red-head leaving Sam’s car, who was now standing in front of them with a confused expression. “As much as I understand how fun standing around aimlessly is, it would be awesome if you two could get your asses in the car.”

The blond snapped his head towards Bucky, who barely even glanced at Natasha before shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket, beginning to pace away from their spot next to the parking lot.

“I’m just gonna head home - I don’t feel like going out to eat.” He mumbled, allowing his friends to only just hear what he’d said.

Steve reached forward to try and grab his arm, but the boy pulled away quickly. He didn’t bother attempting to convince him not to go home. Bucky was evidently pissed. With you mad at him, Steve knew that Bucky wasn’t going to be able to enjoy himself if he went out. “Buck, at least let Sam drive you back.”

“I’ll walk.”

The simple statement caused Natasha to furrow her brows, pulling her eyes away from Bucky and landing them on Steve. “What’s wrong with him?”

With concerned eyes still trained on his friend, Steve exhaled deeply. After tearing his gaze away, he nodded in the direction of Sam’s car, indicating for them to get moving.

“I’ll tell you in the car.”

* * *

Series Taglist:

@itz-kira @americas-ass-assins

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x you

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audliminal · 6 years

Text

4:33

Hey, guys, I’m back with the second piece in the signing-verse (finally, I know)! Sorry for the long wait, but my cat had surgery a couple weeks ago and everything’s been really hectic. Anyways, this one is Logan’s introduction, and how he met Patton and Virgil. Enjoy!

Word Count: 3010

Logan's favorite piece of music has no lyrics. He has the whole thing memorized, and whenever he is feeling particularly lost in the vast universe (this often happens late at night), he will sit at the piano and perform his favorite song. Bar by bar, he will count and listen, as four minutes and thirty-three seconds tick by, slowly, and the world around him plays him a song. He listens as the house creaks and settles, and he listens as the clock ticks from its place, mounted on the wall. Sometimes, he performs the piece outside or with the window open so he can enjoy the song that the trees and frogs and plants and owls have to offer.

Logan's favorite piece of music is often referred to as Four Minutes, Thirty-Three Seconds of Silence, but Logan is no fool, and he knows the truth. There is no silence here, on this Earth, this floating orb of rock that is hurtling at breakneck speeds through empty space. Every time Logan performs his piece, it sounds different, and he listens carefully, to the chaotic nature of the Universe, and to the unpredictable sounds of Life Itself. When he can't sleep, late into the night, because the world around him is being just as loud as his own mind (there's too much to do, too much to say), he performs his song. It calms him, to know that no matter how lonely he gets, he is never truly alone.

Logan enjoys silence. He enjoys those moments when the world falls to quiet peace, but even more than that, Logan loves noise. He is fascinated by the concepts of noise and sound and spends his time listening to the constant motion of the world around him, and reveling in the beauty of how nothing ever stops changing. No two moments are the same.

It is a comfort to Logan, that he will never be who he was a minute ago, and he works hard to make each moment of his life new and better, with more knowledge, a bit more understanding of everything around him.

Logan is very lonely.

He tries to ignore it, tries his hardest to find joy and happiness in his quiet little world, and tries to find comfort in the company of only himself. Still, the noise of the world inevitably breaks through his walls, and he is reminded of just how alone he is. When his brother brings home friends, he can do nothing but listen, as the vibrant sounds of laughter in the room next-door shatter his peace and echo against his walls. He can never ignore it.

It hurts, in a way that Logan still cannot understand- he has tried making friends before; he found it frustrating and exhausting, and he chose to be alone instead- it was better, more comfortable. It was easier to be alone. And still, he hated it. Still, he longed for the joy of friendship and companionship that everyone around him seemed to enjoy. So, when a boy approached him, with an invitation to join their group for a semester-long project, Logan found himself dangerously conflicted.

Logan's seen the two of them around school before; it's hard to not notice the vibrant duo that insists on using ASL and refuses to be sorry about it, but Logan has never spoken to them before. He doesn't even know a single word in ASL, and he would hardly know where to start if he wanted to learn. And anyway, it’s hardly a surprise that Logan never speaks to them, because he doesn’t ever speak to anyone if he can help it. Talking is hard and exhausting, and he’s always felt lost and adrift whenever he finds himself trapped in a conversation. So when the more energetic half of this particular duo plops down into the seat next to him, Logan has no idea what to do.

"Hi there!" The boy (was it Patton?) says cheerfully, hands moving in almost perfect synchronicity with his mouth. "I don't suppose you'd be interested in joining our group?" The offer is unexpected. Even being acknowledge by his classmates is rare for Logan, unless they want something from him, and Logan can feel discomfort welling up almost instantaneously. This boy with his fast-talking hands and vibrant energy- this boy is sitting next to him, grinning happily like they’ve been friends forever. Logan cannot even begin to imagine why the boy is inviting him to join their group. He does not want to believe that Patton is one of the cruel people; he’s always seemed so nice, but even if he is- well, the ones who befriend you out of pity are almost worse than the ones who do so out of cruelty. So, even though Logan’s heart wants to say yes, Logan curls into himself, shaking his head.

"No-" Logan says, voice as small as he feels. “ No thank you.” His words are carefully chosen, a mask to hide his insecurities. To avoid the shortfalls of his voice -no S's, no L's, no R's. Years of speech therapy, and he’s still not perfect. The lessons echo through his head, but even still he cannot seem to enunciate clearly, and he inevitably trips over his words the second he relaxes. He turns back towards his desk again and ignores the awkwardness pounding through his head. He’s sick of groups; sick of being surrounded by friends who want to talk and chat, and inevitably leave him sitting there on the fringe, doing all the work while they have fun. The pain of refusing echoes in his head, but it is easier than the pain of ending up trapped in a friendship he desperately wants but can’t really have. And so, Logan carefully ignores the hurt, surprised look on Patton's face, and is about to go back to reading his book, until the teacher appears beside them.

"Logan," the teacher begins. "Here I was, worried that I would have trouble getting you to join a group, but it seems that my concerns were misguided! And helping our deaf students- I'm sure with your help, they'll have no trouble at all!" Logan starts in surprise and begins to voice a protest- he’s going to work alone, he already has his entire project planned- anything to not be trapped in a group that barely wants him, but the teacher gives him a sharp smile, and Logan can do nothing but resign himself to his fate. Beside him, Patton lets out a choked giggle, and Logan turns to stare at him in confused realization as the teacher walks away.

"Wait, you’re deaf too?" He asks because that’s what the teacher had implied, but Logan had not been aware of this, and he flinches as his voice trips up on the r. Belatedly he wonders if his lips were even clear enough to read, feeling off-balance and terrified of doing the wrong thing, but Patton is quick to shake his head.

"No, I'm not deaf. But teachers don’t always realize. I sign so I must be deaf, y’know?" Patton's words are accompanied with a shrug that leaves Logan frowning and uncertain of how to respond until he catches movement in the corner of his eye and realizes that the other boy (Virgil, right?)has joined them, and is signing at a rapid pace. A pang of guilt (frustration too, ASL is just another thing he doesn’t understand) hits Logan, as he watches the words that he cannot understand.

"If he doesn't want to, he doesn't want to, Patton.” The spoken words confuse Logan for a moment until his brain registers that Patton must be interpreting Virgil’s words for him. For just a moment, the longing hits Logan again- how nice must it be to have a friend who you fit with so seamlessly, but then Logan remembers that this is the part of the conversation where he should probably respond -or has it been too long now, and he’s made it awkward with his silence?

"Unfortunately, our teacher doesn’t share that opinion.” Logan blurts out quickly before he can make things any more awkward. “So it appears that we will be working together on this project.” Virgil raises an eyebrow at him, and Logan’s glance flits nervously between the two, feeling very much like an object that’s been put on display.

Logan barely even remembers the conversation that follows, though, at some point, he agrees to meet up with them after school every Wednesday so they can get to work on planning their project.

He comes to their first meeting, feeling very much like his head is about to explode from sheer nervousness. He greets them and sits down, watching Patton’s hands move- the motions all seem to flow together, a constant, unbroken stream of conversation, and Logan wonders how Virgil can tell where Patton’s words end and Logan’s begin. He is caught off guard when Patton immediately asks him how his day was and finds himself stumbling over an answer. Five minutes later, he realizes he’s devolved into a rant about how boring his chemistry class is, and he cuts himself off abruptly.

“I’m sorry,” he says, fighting to keep his hands still. “You were just asking to be polite, and I just ran off with it, and-”

“It’s no problem! Patton is quick to reassure him. “I think we’ll all benefit from getting to know each other a bit better before we start trying to complete this project!” Beside him, Virgil nods, and Logan isn’t about to argue with them, but he carefully turns the question on its head, asking about Patton and Virgil’s days, so he doesn’t start ranting at them again. After all, no matter what Patton says, he knows that people are prone to saying things they don’t mean, because of politeness.

“Oh, well, I drew a picture of a cat today, in Government! Look!” And then, Patton’s pulling a notebook out of his backpack and flipping it open to reveal a goofy drawing of a cat. It’s not very good- better than a kindergartener would do, but Logan keeps his mouth shut before he can say anything mean, and listens as Virgil offers a half-hearted compliment.

“It definitely looks like a cat.” Patton translates with a laugh. “I know, it’s not great, but hey! It was a lot more interesting than listening to the teacher drone on about checks and balances for fifty minutes. I mean, honestly Virgil, you’re lucky you’re deaf- our teacher’s voice is like- like listening to a handful of bees try and teach about the court system! It’s awful.”

The next two weeks pass by, and Logan’s life has never felt more like a rollercoaster. Patton is so friendly and energetic, and even when Logan’s looking for it, he can’t find a hint of a notion that he’s not wanted there. Even Virgil, who can’t directly talk to, seems to not really mind his presence, and their every interaction leaves Logan feeling like he’s teetering above a really large drop, waiting to start falling. Somewhere along the way, Virgil and Patton start appearing at his lunch table, and even when he doesn’t have the energy to join in the conversation, Patton continues on translating for him.

He finds himself lying awake at night even more than usual, analyzing everything he’s said, and wincing at the awkward moments where he’d spoken over either Patton or Virgil- he’s bad enough at conversations when everyone’s using the same language, and it’s only made worse by the confusion of getting used to Virgil and Patton’s use of sign language. And yet, neither of them have complained about his behavior yet, and he is left, every day, feeling very confused. They hadn’t said anything when he’d ranted at them for ten minutes about the importance of the cultural connotation of specific adjectives, and nobody had gotten mad when Logan had corrected Patton’s pronunciation of the word sherbet.

That’s why Logan found himself curled up on his bed with his laptop, at five in the morning, carefully practicing the same hand movements over and over, hoping, against all odds, that he can manage to do this one thing perfectly.

“Hello Virgil, how was your weekend?” Logan carefully forms the words of his very first sentence in ASL. The movements feel strange in his hands, and he ignores the part of him that worries that he’ll fuck the whole the thing up. Instead, Logan shakes his hands out and tries again, because he needs to do this. Because he wants to do this. He wants to be a part of their comfortable friendship and he’s not sure he knows how to take the first step towards being their friends, but learning one sentence in a new language? Learning is the one thing he’s good at, so with another shake of his hands, he keeps practicing.

By the time he makes it to school, Logan is a nervous wreck, and the anticipation (and fear) of what he’s going to do makes it completely impossible to pay attention through all of his first and second periods. He’ll figure out what he missed later. For now, he has a mission.

Logan makes his way to his English class, determined and pretending he doesn’t notice the dread building in his stomach. The desire to be these boys’ friends echoes across his whole body, and he struggles to still his trembling and takes a seat. Virgil and Patton walk through the door a moment later. Patton’s hands are moving in huge, excited motions, as tells Virgil about- something. Logan chokes down the sudden lurch of terror and focuses on how much he wants to be a part of- that. He wants to be able to join in on the conversations- to not be an awkward addition who needs everything translated for him, while Patton and Virgil communicate so easily.

And so, Logan smiles and nods at them, as they take their seats, and when Virgil says hello with a wave of the hand, he carefully forms the words he’s been learning.

“Hi, Virgil. How was your weekend?” It takes only a few moments to say it, and Logan cringes as he feels the whole world stop around him. Virgil is staring, and- oh god, Patton is too, and slowly the fear starts to seep back in. What if the website he had used was wrong? It’s a thought that hadn’t even occurred to him until this moment, but all of a sudden it seems very possible, and Logan can barely breathe.

Then, Virgil snorts and Logan flinches, before Virgil’s hands lift, and then Virgil is saying something and Logan can’t understand it, and Patton isn’t telling him what Virgil just said. Virgil seems to realize belatedly that Patton isn’t interpreting for him, and closes his eyes in frustration, before reaching over and waving his hand in front of Patton’s face. It takes Patton a moment to start moving again, and then Virgil signs the same sentence again, for Patton to translate.

“I’m good, what about you?” Relief floods through Logan, because he may not have been perfect, but he was at least understandable, which is- not exactly ideal, but it’s definitely enough.

“Alright, I guess. Sorry but that’s the only sentence I know so far.” Logan smiles, and the words so far hang like a promise between them.

“Oh my gosh that’s what we should do for our project!” The exclamation rings loudly beside them and Logan and Virgil both flinch as Patton’s energy suddenly returns. “I mean- that was so cool, and your signing was almost perfect, Logan, wow; how long have you been practicing that- but we should do our English project on ASL!” Logan glances between the two, as Virgil stares at his friend.

“I mean, I guess we could?” Virgil slowly offers, and Logan is incredibly grateful when Patton translates for him because Logan has definitely reached the limits of what ASL he’s managed to figure out so far. “Although it’s technically not English, so is that allowed?”

“I mean, I doubt our teacher knows that,” Patton says, “but anyways, what if we made our project about the grammatical differences between ASL and English?”

“I don’t want you guys to have to do all the- all the work, though,” Logan mumbles wincing as his stutter makes itself known.

“Well, you can be our English expert!” Patton responds happily. “I don’t think me or Virgil know all that much about the grammar rules of English, after all.”

“It’s I.” Logan corrects.

“What?”

“I don’t think either Virgil or I know all that- all that much about the grammatical rules of English.” He explains, cringing at every word as his brain supplies a reminder that correcting people is rude. It’s too late to stop now.

“See?! You’ll be our English expert! Plus, it’ll give us an excellent excuse to teach you ASL, won’t it?” Patton leans over, grinning as he pats Logan’s shoulder.

“It- it will?”

“I mean, if you want us to teach you, that is? I just figured, ‘cause you’d been teaching yourself...” Patton trails off.

“I- uh, if you- if you’re willing to spend the time teaching me, I’d love to learn! I just- I wasn’t really sure where to start, or how to- to find out.” Logan glances over at Patton, who’s actually bouncing in his seat with excitement, and Virgil, who’s normally irritated look is twitching with what almost looks like the beginning of a smile.

“Great,” Virgil says, “then we’ll check with the teacher, and if she okays it, then we can get started whenever.” Logan nods in agreement because he’s certainly not going to refuse the help- ASL is the first thing that Logan’s ever been scared to try and learn. It’s just so different and Logan’s never even learned a speaking language on his own, so he has no idea how he would ever manage. But with Patton and Virgil guiding him, it just might be doable.

As always, please let me know if there’s any way I can do better by those of you that are deaf/hoh or use ASL! This is a learning experience for me, and I’m bound to get some things wrong.

#my fics #signing-verse #yay i finally got around to finishing this

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hereandnowiaminlove · 6 years

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The Magic Model

We have developed something we are calling the Magical Model of Understanding Experience and Cognition, or simply the Magic Model.

It uses the language of magic, sorcery, enchantments, potions, fairies, Gods, Devils, demons, angels, and elves to communicate ethics, instructions for coping with difficult situations, and easily remembered and very vivid descriptions of sense experience and how it relates to the material world.

There is currently no coherent account of how brain activity and experience connect.

Over the course of this book, we want to show a number of ways in which using the lens of magic on the everyday world is a wonderful, enriching, and healing way of coping with difficulties and fostering compassion for ourselves, others, and our communities and habitats.

It is especially strong and rich in metaphors for coping with addictions and madness of various kinds.

The magic metaphor explains a wide array of phenomena in very few words and avoids any affiliation with blame (you cannot be blamed for being haunted by ghouls or pixies), while also not employing the illness metaphor used by the disease model.

It effortlessly encourages ethical, pro-social behaviour, and connects self-care, environmentalism, Christianity, feminism, queer theory, Buddhism, folklore, and many other views from a wide array of disciplines and practices.

It brings together a myriad of perspectives in a vivid, memorable, easily explained to children and adults in an entertaining way, and is really fun to imagine!

It is also a built-in “how to” manual of madness and addiction, in both oneself and in others.

***

What would you say if we told you that ghosts really do haunt houses, that spirits do live in forests, and that fairies, elves, and trolls are alive and well and living in Iceland?

Or that the person who wrote the words to this book had rum and smoked cigarettes with The Devil in Reykjavik at a coffee shop called cafe Babalu, and that He used the word “Kafkic” instead of “Kafkaesque”?

You might think that we are ridiculous or stupid; people projecting fairy tales onto real life, and yet we must insist.

In addition to the things we’ve mentioned, there are also spells and curses, prayers and affirmations, potions that work, enchantments that bind, and aphrodisiacs that really do arouse.

What on Earth are we talking about?

Where are we living?

What world are we describing?

We are describing the world in which we live: the world of lived experience in a given place and time.

What is so different about being in a Cathedral and on a reserve? A gas station and an expensive hotel bar; a forest and a trainyard–what is it about these places that feels so different?

If we look too closely at any of these things, they disappear into swirls of lightning: buzzing electricity and proton/neutron clusters whirring in a chaotic flurry of mystery.

Looking too closely, where any of us end and the “space” between us begins is anyone's guess, as air is a very, very, very dense fluid and many small creatures that we routinely swallow in genocidal numbers “swim” through this fluid we call air (which we are too heavy to float in–except when we fly, which we do, all the time in huge numbers.)

This fluid can be manipulated by sorcerers to conjure all manner of spirits: a musician might disturb this thick fluid and, as these waves pass you, a spell is cast: what is a song but a magic spell: especially a song performed live in a small group, but this can equally apply to a recording listened to deeply.

What is a meal cooked with love if not a spell to bring peace?

What is a blowjob if not an enchantment?

What is Adderall if not an aphrodisiac?

What are psychiatric medications if not magic potions?

“Sprinkle some lithium salt on your nerves and your voices will stop!”

Question: Why?

Answer: MOTHERFUCKING MAGIC POTIONS!

What are recreational drugs but trickster spirits: luring unsuspecting humans into rooms of Heaven and Hell?

What is that chill you get in a haunted house, if not a ghost passing through you?

Why does your mood gently lift as you walk among the trees, breathing in the gentle and interdependent soul and intelligence of the forest?

Who was that man in Reykjavik, that looked so “ordinary” and spoke so eloquently of literature, and art, and grief, and love?

He was The Devil, of course!

What are teachers, musicians, and stockbrokers if not wizards, witches, and sorcerers: teachers cast spells on students that change their entire lives forever; so do musicians; stockbrokers use an evil magic to move money into different pots until there’s more of it, again: sorcery.

The world of sense experience is enchanted, and we know that. We have looked too closely and seen the cloud of lightning behind the veil of solidity.

We know we are living in a dream: a world in which all phenomena exist only as appearances to mind.

I will only ever know anything through and with my mind, and so dreams and reality are the same: nervous system activity in response to a given situation.

Waking life is what my nervous system does when I move around; dreams are what my nervous system does when I stay still.

The world in which we find ourselves absolutely is magic, and people all over the world have known that for millions of years.

We’ve been starting to forget it, but forgetting magic doesn’t make it go away.

***

There is no end to the phenomena that can be explained and expressed in the language of sorcery, and this model helps connect science, experience, spirituality, and the daily practice of living in a lush, florid, and enchanting way.

We are already living in a magical world: that fact is all around us. Saying that things work by magic is not a cop-out, it is the simple truth.

The word “placebo” is a clinical sounding term for “works by magic or suggestion”, and is known and used in every science experiment because science knows that magic exists and that it exerts a discernible effect, which we have boringly labeled “The placebo effect” (spells that help) and “The Nocebo Effect” (curses that hurt).

Saying that things are magic is not a way of avoiding describing them fully, it is an avenue towards it.

By honouring the magic that is already there, we can allow ourselves to relax; to smile, and to savour our times with our loved ones and our time spent idly in moments of quiet solitude.

The rest of this book contains some preliminary explorations of this model.

They weave together biology, chemistry, physics, philosophy of mind, psychology, history, psychotherapies, psychoanalysis, mindfulness meditation, psychiatry, Buddhism, Christianity, environmentalism, feminism, queer theory, folklore, and the personal experiences of madness and chemical drug use, and strive to honour insights from all those and some other disciplines and experiences.

This book is an attempt to illustrate that we can gather from what we know that the world is magical, and waiting to be seen that way.

People used to write folklore for fun, and The Vatican has millions of scrolls that were excluded from the collection we call “The Bible”.

Everyone can benefit from doing this, and everyone used to.

What follows is our argument that we should get back into the habit.

***

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jefferyryanlong · 6 years

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Fresh Listen - Comus, To Keep from Crying (Virgin Records, 1974)

(Some pieces of recorded music operate more like organisms than records. They live, they breathe, they reproduce. Fresh Listen is a periodic review of recently and not so recently released albums that crawl among us like radioactive spiders, gifting us with superpowers from their stingers.)

One thing after the other.

Taking in reality, especially through the relentless assault of digital media, is a complicated endeavor. I try my best to sort out what to give a shit about–Meghan Markle’s unique chemistry with the Queen of England, maybe–and what to dismiss, if only because I usually feel so helpless with my notepad and pencil in the coffeeshop, worried about the decisions I’ve made at work while the feds seem hellbent on maintaining the odious practice of separating children from their immigrant parents at the U.S. border, and a potent retweet isn’t going to solve anything.

So I take shortcuts to get through the waking days and nights more efficiently, more effectively. I set goals, get shit done. One thing after the other. If I’m lucky, I’ll lay my head on the bedtime pillow assured that I handled it–the rest, well, it was out of my hands. If I’m lucky, the pernicious memories and the ever-unraveling mysteries won’t haunt me from behind closed eyes, won’t force my attention to everything I missed. Maybe that important thing, that thing that called out for tending, that misread happenstance that maybe, maybe, would dramatically change the rest of my life. I’ve even abdicated my readings of signs and portents, given my certainty that the true horror will reveal itself, whether I understand it in advance or not.

One thing after the other: it’s a way to minimize the frequent seismic shifts of a life I’m trying to simply, quietly get through, making a little money here and there, finding the rare time to read or listen to a record. It’s also the way to suck the vibrancy out of that life, so that all the little moments are spray-painted beige, equalized to the same volume on the mixers of my processing unit. Humiliations and failures carry the same weight as defining accomplishments. I did that, and then I did that. All in the name of getting by, of just trying to wend my way through.

Comus, in their 1974 psychedelic folk-rock album To Keep from Crying, forcefully pushes back on the practice of moving through the world with any semblance of nonchalance, speaking out against protecting one’s sensory intake filters for the sake of one’s sanity or emotional health. For Comus, everything under the sun–humiliations, pencils, pillows, children–is a miracle. There is nothing to be feared or avoided. What is is there to be taken in whole, appreciated, learned from, transcended.

Love, for instance, is not a relationship for Comus. Love is an astounding earth-shake that can knock one’s sense of self completely out of orbit, into a galaxy unrecognizable. Love’s not about giving out phone numbers, or sliding into DM’s–it’s about laying your naked body on the altar of the other person, even if the sacrifice was neither requested nor desired. For Comus, dreams are not coagulations of dharma residue pressure-cooked in the unconscious. Dreams are are the most direct means of communicating desire. The cycle of life itself, as normal as it seems as I stare out the window, watching the traffic, is a stupendous display of unseen energy the wisest of us can only barely comprehend. For Comus, even the most quotidian matters of the human experience are cosmically significant.

The band almost refutes the few records that preceded To Keep from Crying with the album’s first track, “Down (Like a Movie Star).” In a high tenor that would give Geddy Lee a run for his money, singer Roger Wootten rocks out in a manner unprecedented, bass and drums prevailing over the Renaissance-style acoustic guitars carried over from previous albums. Wootten castigates the disenchantment born of commercially sold dreams, characterizing mass media as not simply a psychic emollient, but as a malignant alien laying infected eggs of delusion in the brains of those who slavishly follow its permutations. The “out of touch” victim can’t stop living vicariously through the illusions that have been implanted in her, and when Wootten sings “How long can she live in the past / How long can she last?” the listener gets the sense mass media anesthetizes its viewership, who are all too willing to exchange selfhood for fantasy. Despite the driving beat, the woodwinds give the song a mystical, off-kilter feel, what sounds like an oboe weaving between the voices.

Love is portrayed as a floating, untethered madness on “Touchdown.” Perhaps Comus’s idea of love will never be grounded, especially on a mutable landscape in which “to find reality” becomes the imperative “define reality.” The band’s lyrics, often ironic, never cease to be compelling–alliteration drives the rhyme scheme of the first verses, calling to mind the playful experimentations (most of them successful) of the band Little Wings. “Touchdown,” Wootten whispers at the end of the song, “if you can.” As if the hardest thing in the world is to cease the detachment sponsored by desire and fixation.

Comus buries a couple of tone poems in the psychedelic goulash of To Keep from Crying, minor avant garde notes on the fringe of its fairly straightforward pop-rock numbers. The first, “Waves and Caves,” is a reverb-laden fuzz bass interlude, Wootten’s vocal moaning at the top of it recalling an unquiet spirit in a sealed-off tomb.

Before the drums kick in, “Figure in Your Dreams” comes across as a folk song that could have been played at a country dance during the 16th century. The first number featuring Bobbie Watson as lead vocalist, the song is an oddly timed celebration of the sweetness of possibility, the potential of locking into a loved one’s brainwaves and, maybe only temporarily, standing at the forefront of their wants. So much of desire is raw and unfocused–when it lands on someone, it engenders a sense of purpose, a reason to exhaust ourselves in going through the motions.

With one voice comfortably engraved in the other, Wootten and Watson espouse sci-fi hippie ideals of the time in “Children of the Universe,” in which the the celestial presences in orbit above us, just hanging and glowing with no discernible practical purpose other than to amaze, to press upon us the necessity of inspiration. As seemingly permanent fixtures upon our terminal imaginations, these bodies in the sky suggest to us humans that we might also place into the heavens a forever thought, that once born will never die.

If Comus ever had the potential for even marginal mainstream appeal, I would name “So Long Supernova” as the lead single, a charmingly weird, Poe-like narrative about seeing a long-lost love (”you’re just a nickel from an earlier era”) appearing before the rapacious male gaze. “Materialize, so I can hold ya,” the singer calls out, fruitlessly. Unlike the previous track, “So Long Supernova” doesn’t carry the listener through the dark depths of outer space–the “supernova,” in this case, is the impassioned blast of an unsummoned reminiscence, drilling into the narrator the pangs of unfulfilled longing.

“Perpetual Motion” may be the masterpiece of To Keep from Crying, a somewhat wistful meditation on no less than the force of gravity and the systems of life that carry on just at the edges of our perception. “Artists, scientists, strive to be the masters of” this under-appreciated rotation through the solar system, which should move us to take to our knees and thank the skies every morning. As a tribute, the band mimics perpetual motion at the coda of the song, a circular momentum directing their enthusiastic vocals.

The second of the brief instrumental pieces is “Panophany,” all wet drum sounds ricocheting against one another. “Get Yourself a Man” is Comus’s attempt at slow, simmering soul, though they cunningly insert their brand via a clarinet solo at the outro.

“Hold me naked, in the dancing parlor / Light close, and sacred, warm against your skin so white,” from the title track of To Keep from Crying, comes at the listener as a full turn away from the band’s preoccupations with planetary changes and psychedelic revelations. A waltz, a slow dance, “To Keep from Crying” is refreshingly unironic, simply stating (and stating beautifully) that a body, regardless of its magnitude, is most perfectly complemented by another body, so that the most basic functions of existence can be shared. Bobbie Watson, never shy as a vocalist, evokes here the raw emotive power of early Yoko Ono.

Great art can recalibrate the perceptions, reinstall a sense of wonder in whoever has the opportunity to experience it. Wonder not only at the piece itself, but wonder at everything around us, the unknown and implacable forces that keep all of it going on and on. To Keep from Crying makes a valiant effort to awaken the buried sensitivities in a listenership that has been bludgeoned into numbness by the heartbreaking news from Everywhere.

#freshlisten #comus #tokeepfromcrying

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rodger-that-studios · 4 years

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My Top 20 Albums of All Time

Before The Storm, part 1 of 2

A top 20? (that should be, part one of a top twenty, so a top ten? yeah?)

Wow, how original.

I can practically hear your anguished cries.

Maybe so.

“There certainly haven’t been approximately 417.803 of those published since last Friday”

But sit down and strap in. This one’s a doozy.

Before we start, let me add that you don’t have to love these albums as much as I do, but trust me, arrogant as this sounds, you’re going to want to check them out.

To that you’re obviously crying out “You don’t know me!”

It doesn’t matter. Don’t have to.

These albums changed my life, so without further ado, lets get started. Are you sitting comfortably?

The Final (ish) Countdown (Albums 20-11)

20 – Tapestry – Carole King (1971)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KQXY8zwQgmc

It’s a beauty

Let’s start as we mean to go on.

Presented here is one of the first songs I ever remember ‘freaking out’ to. To clarify, I mean that amazing, goosebumps inducing effect that music can have on you.

The ‘whoa’ moment, if you will.

That song is the immortal Natural Woman from this seminal album. It’s also a family favourite. Maybe we’ll never know if it was written for one James Taylor (who might make an appearance later on) but frankly, who cares. This is a beautiful record.

19 – Curtain Call: The Hits – Eminem (2005)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Yhyp-_hX2s

Eminem is angry about…everything

Blimey. A Rap album as early as this?

Guess I’m full of surprises.

I’m no Eminem ‘fan’, but this one is special. There’s a swagger to this album that never fails to make me feel a thousand feet tall. Slim Shady exploded onto the scene with classic after satirical classic. Lose Yourself is outstanding, as is the insanity and genuine comedy of My Name Is. I think we all know what his name is now. Mic drop.

18 – A/B – Kaleo (2016)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0-7IHOXkiV8

People from Iceland frighten me

This one is by far the youngest album on our list. But if I had to describe the debut for Kaleo, an imposing bunch of vikings (er, Icelanders) led by the incredibly talented Jökull Júlíusson (ridiculous name alert) in a few words, ‘ass kicking masterpiece’ comes to mind.

The band have gone from strength to strength since they dropped this monster in June 2016, thanks in large part to the lead single from A/B, Way Down We Go. It’s hauntingly beautiful and stays with you long after its finished. Another highlight is the albums opening track, No Good, which is a rip roaring way for the band to say hello. It’s absolutely filthy, but oh so fantastic.

17 – The Cult – Pure Cult (The Singles) 1984-1985) – 2000

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZCOSPtyZAPA

Drum Fill Drum Fill Drum FILLLLLL

An absolute riot of an album.

It’s frankly ludicrous for a band to release a singles anthology that lasts for 77 bloody minutes, but The Cult are that good.

Prick up your ears for Rain and She Sells Sanctuary, which are definite stand outs. Rain batters against your eardrums with screaming guitars, while Sanctuary shifts the focus onto the drums. The song only contains a handful of lyrics, but one listen to the drum fill before the final chorus will make you understand why. Some songs speak for themselves.

16 – Greatest Hits – Simon And Garfunkel – 1972

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L-JQ1q-13Ek

This one has stayed with me because I still remember the first listen to this album.

I was sat in my Grandma’s lounge. Family have always played a part in the albums I’ve carried into adulthood. It didn’t take me long to learn why she loves these two. This album will make you cry, make you cheer and everything in-between.

The best albums tell stories, and ones told by this ’72 collection like The Boxer and Bridge Over Troubled Water will live for a very long time.

Gorgeous stuff.

15 – Where The Light Is, John Mayer Live in LA – 2008

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7K2DQ8XBRbU

Smooooooooth Mr Mayer

The following descriptions accurately describe Mr John Mayer;

Guitar Prodigy

Remarkable Songwriter

Harmonic Whizkid

Arrogant Arsehole

Okay, okay. I’ll explain why.

Mayer’s ego may be bigger than his stacked discography, but sadly it’s for a very good reason. The man is a modern musical artist, and doesn’t he know it.

But this album makes it okay, and here’s why.

Mayer played a one off sold out show in the Nokia Theatre in his home town of LA back in ’08, playing hits straight out of his strange little head to a sea of adoring fans.

It was an elegant affair, with Mayer and his touring band taking centre stage for almost three hours worth of jazz and blues. Indeed the sense of rhythm, melody and especially harmony on hits like Daughters, In Your Atmosphere and Gravity (which Johnny boy performs here with a full gospel choir) is absolutely stunning. A personal highlight is his incredible arrangement of Tom Petty’s Free Fallin’(RIP Tom we love you), which leaves me speechless every single time. Overalll Mayer offers a soaring and beautiful album which is perhaps the most intimate and honest thing he’s ever written.

And remember, all thats coming from the dude that wrote Your Body is a Wonderland. Damn smooth.

14 – Vessel – Twenty One Pilots – 2013

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=szp9x1ZlZn4

Kick Some Ass lads

Twenty One Pilots needed something big to break onto the international scene. The rock duo had already amassed a huge following in the good old US of A, but Europe was a different beast. And with Vessel they knocked it out of the park.

Hits from this album introduced Tyler Joseph and Josh Dunn to the world. Joseph flip flops between sonorous masterclasses and rapping like a demon while Dunn channels the greats behind the kit. Copeland, Moon, Rich. The gang’s all here, and its as if they’re controlling Dunn’s arms and telling his brain what to do like the plot from a terrible 80s horror movie.

It is indeed a rip rollicking tour de force of an album. Migrane will make you think, Guns for Hands (bloody ridiculous song title) will make you groove, and my personal favourite here, Trees, will make you grit your teeth and maybe even shed a few tears, an entire spectrum of feelings is contained to 12 songs.

How many other bands can do that?

Put simply, check this one out. It’s remarkable.

13 – Celebrity Skin – Hole – 1998

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v0CYB5V9e64

Tears you to pieces

Lets summarise the short lived story of Hole, shall we?

In equal parts the tortured love child of Courtney Love and Courtney Love’s grief over the terrible loss of Kurt Cobain, Hole created a very special album.

Love and Cobain were of course famously writing countless songs together before he died, and many of them would, in one way or another, make up the famous track list offered here. Heartbreak can often create strangely beautiful things, and Celebrity Skin is the epitome of that.

From the first second you can feel Love’s fury at society. Thats why it works, because its as relevant to hate the world today as it was back in ’98. To that end, honestly the album’s title track is, in a word, aggressive. Listening to it really puts you into her head. It’s as if someone took a confetti cannon, filled it with that typical 90s neon-soaked angst and rage and then fired it point blank into your face.

CAN YOU FEEL IT YET?

Okay calm down.

Don’t know what came over me there.

But then come back to earth and pair track one with the other clear stand out, Malibu. This song is effortlessly haunting and heartbreakingly beautiful. The listener is oblivious to what the lyrics warn them of running away from, but we somehow know we just need to listen to the warning. Perhaps this song was written for Kurt and he will tragically never know, but we’ll know and this song, indeed this album, will tear you apart and stay with you forever.

12 – What’s The Story Morning Glory – Oasis – 1995

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tI-5uv4wryI

Liam Gallagher looks like he’s wearing handcuffs every time he sings. Don’t believe me? Watch and learn

Oasis have been a part of my life for pretty much as long as I can remember.

We had them on perpetually when I was growing up, and I remember the first time my Dad introduced me to the standout song on this album full of standout songs, Champagne Supernova.

“Kid!”

“Yeah?”

“Check out this tune!”

Plays Supernova in our living room

It’s incredible, yes, but there’s only one question I have when the song fades.

“But Dad, what even is a Champagne Supernova?”

“Shut up Will, it’s ironic.”

leaves

One listen was all it took.

While the also classic Heathen Chemistry perhaps hit me more upon first impressions, as I’ve grown up my love for this album has positively skyrocketed. Although I still have a soft spot for Little By Little, one of the first songs I ever learned on guitar.

God these are the useless facts I know you want out of a musical countdown.

What’s The Story is special, though. It’s a special, perfectly Brit-Pop record. For me at least, songs like Some Might Say, She’s Electric and the aforementioned alcoholic death of a star have gotten me through some incredibly tough times. I look fondly back at the album now and remember nights in, up to my neck in GCSE revision with one of those terrible bedside lamps, which made it look like I was doing Algebra in Gollum’s cave. I’d whack on this record and all the stress would go away for a few glorious moments. It was almost fun to work stuff out with Noel Liam and the rest of the lads screaming down my earholes. It somehow made it okay.

Champagne Supernova, though, as you’ve probably guessed, is simply something else. Of course it lasts for seven minutes, but every second is captivating. Its an untouchable song, and an awesome album.

11 – Appetite For Destruction – Guns N Roses – 1987

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gORKiQ0h1ZA

Fuck Yeah

This one is simply the motherfucking king of debut albums.

Guns N Roses redefined sweet rock and roll with this album, and it was the first thing they ever released. Since it was released back in ’87 the album has rocked up (not sorry about the pun) 28 Million album sales. Numbers like that don’t lie. So here’s my take on one of the greatest rock albums of all time.

Standout one is the opening track, Welcome To The Jungle

Literally.

This song, despite being track one, is a dark horse, but I don’t know how much that means when your album is made up of majestic stallions. Guns N Roses collectively smash down your defences and musically kick the shit out of you with outstanding guitar and pounding drums. But don’t worry its all executed so beautifully you’ll probably stand yourself up dust yourself off, say thank you and dive straight back in. Trust me you ain’t seen nothing yet.

We continue with Paradise City. Its safe to say that Axl Rose Slash and company do not pull punches. This is one of the greatest guitar performances of all time. GNR present a sprawling 6 minute journey into madness, and you’re gonna want to be along for the ride. Prick up your ears for the closing solo, which is Slash at his most powerful. Slash is a god among men. Won’t take you long to discover why.

The third, and final (but not final) standout is the immortal Sweet Child O Mine

I’m already playing air guitar just thinking about this one and you are too don’t even lie.

If you were to open a Guns N Roses art museum, in which different songs became famous paintings, then Sweet Child O Mine is the ceiling of the Cistene fucking Chapel. it’s that good. Its many things. What do you want? A story about love? Yep, its there. A Stadium Anthem for the ages? Yeah no worries. A Masterpiece? I damn well think so. In fact thats the perfect description for Appetite for Destruction. Its a flawless album, indeed the spirit of sex drugs rock and roll in a CD case.

*takes breath*

Okay. Pause. Hit pause.

Christ on a bike.

I’ve been rambling for EVER.

Listen hard to these ten, and strap in for part 2

#carole king #eminem #guns n roses #oasis #hole #twenty one pilots #john mayer #kaleo #simon and garfunkel #the cult

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douxbebearchives · 7 years

Text

Author Profile: IWrite4Olitz

Stories on FFN; tumblr: @iwrite4olitz

Your name/nickname/alias:

Lynn, iwrite4olitz

How long have you been writing?

Is “forever” too vague? Since I could properly grip a pencil...

How long have you been writing Olitz?

Since July 10th, 2015.

What drew you to Olivia & Fitz?

Their combustible chemistry. Is there any other reason?

Outside of Olitz, where do you get inspiration to write?

Everywhere. Anywhere. But my favorite inspiration comes from music. If I get stuck, I read a book. ;)

How do you describe your style of writing?

::hyperventilates:: I...don’t have one compact sentence to describe it. I suppose it’s because I choose words and sentence structure to suit whatever tone I’m trying to convey, while also considering the “voice” of the character whose point of view I’m writing. So, for example, if I’m writing something romantic, I use more flowing sentences, but choose words that I think the character whose head we’re in would actually use. If I’m trying to convey something tense or urgent, I’ll use more concise, clipped language and structure. If I need to drive an emotion home, or incite a reaction of some kind, I choose visceral language. Ugh, this sounds so clinical! But I promise it’s not. It just happens naturally. I’ve been called “poetic” and “evocative” by readers. I’ve also taken this super fun quiz:

https://iwl.me/

...the results of which told me I write like Stephen King, which contradicts the poetic thing. Haha. Love Stephen though. Do you guys follow him on twitter? Follow him. He’s one of my best friends in my head. And he’s woke.

Do you write (journal, pen/paper) or type first? Depends. If I have it clear in my mind how a scene should go, I type until my brain is empty. Then I edit until it’s as close to my mental picture as possible. If it’s not clear in my mind, my brain automatically goes on high alert, snatching inspiration from anywhere, at any time. That’s when I scribble things in notebooks or type notes into a document to piece together later. Dialogue, action, events, settings...

Do you have a special notebook or writing utensil?

I have several notebooks, Evernote, and Baby (my touch screen computer). But I plan on replacing her with a Mac soon, because she’s prone to viruses and my tech medical bills have been piling up!

Do you incorporate visuals, music, and/or poetry to help you get into the writing mood?

Yes! Music is the most powerful inspiration for me. I can get several scenes, or a chapter, or an idea for an entire story from one song. I love creating inspiration boards to visualize big scenes more vividly (and sharing them is fun). I don’t read much poetry, sadly. I have a book of famous love letters and poetry collecting dust on my bookshelf if anyone’s interested. It’s red, vintage-looking, really pretty...

Do you use mood boards/aesthetics/Pinterest?

Yes! Here’s the one for Pas De Deux: https://www.pinterest.com/AuthorLynnTurner/pas-de-deux/

Favorite kind of music or podcasts to listen to before/while you write?

I don’t listen to podcasts as part of my process. I find them too distracting. My taste in music is all over the place. I have the same affinity for jazz or soul that I have for pop or indie. That’s not very helpful, I suppose, but it just boils down to whatever moves or inspires me. Would you believe that Pia Mia’s “Do It Again” inspired the one-shot that became No Regrets? She was a 19 year old youtube sensation at the time, and it was her summer smash hit (possibly her only hit) about a one night stand. Hey, I’m not proud. “Locked Away” featuring Maroon 5 inspired the gala scene at the end of that story. “Garden” by Emeli Sande played as I wrote the garden love scene in Pas De Deux, and “Dreamland” by Emilia Ali was playing when I wrote the scene that opens PDD Chapter 10. :-)

Where do you like to write (Home, coffee shop, etc.)?

I prefer to write in isolation. I love cafes, but I tend to spend my time there doing research, or outlining, or creating inspiration boards. At home, I tend to write very early in the morning or late at night when everyone’s asleep...or during “me time” when certain tiny humans aren’t around to tug at my proverbial coat tails. If I have my headphones, I can pretty much write anywhere.

How long does it take you to write a chapter?

Oh gosh...Okay, in a vacuum, with a chapter fully formed in my mind, tons of coffee and wine coolers, I can crank one out in a single day. Outside of that vacuum, it could take anywhere from a few days to a few weeks. There are so many variables: mood, inspiration, time. I’m trying to be better at forming good writing habits. John Grisham says if you aren’t writing at least a page per day, you’re not writing a book. Stephen King writes 600 words a day. Stephen King is not human.

A favorite line or paragraph you’ve written.

This changes all the time, and I have different ones for each work, haha. By the time anyone reads this, it likely will have changed again. (There are some things I’ve written for the next Pas De Deux update that might upstage this, I dunno)...but I think this paragraph from Olivia’s point of view in Chapter 9 is my current favorite, It shows their dynamic so well, I think, and is quintessentially the Olitz I recognize no matter the writer, or whether the story is AU or canon:

She shivered, unnerved to be in his head, to see for herself the irrefutable evidence that he knew her. He knew her and she hadn’t told him a single thing.

Describe yourself in 5 words/phrases:

You could give me 24 hours and the fate of the universe on my shoulders and I still couldn’t do this, hahaha. In a perfect world, my self is constantly evolving, so how about, in keeping with the theme of fifths, I choose something in iambic pentameter?

“Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.” -Dr. Suess

Favorite TV shows/movies:

This question is a rabbit hole. You’d need a “read more” button, and once clicked, readers would be subjected to pages and pages...so I’ll just list the ones I’d grab in case of a fire, or the apocalypse.

TV: Gilmore Girls, House, Girlfriends, A Different World, Living Single, the travelogue adventures of Samantha Brown and Anthony Bourdain, Sense8, Queen Sugar, Greenleaf, Underground, House Hunters, House of Cards, Orange is the New Black

Movies I can watch repeatedly and not get bored: Pride and Prejudice, The Devil Wears Prada, Focus, Pretty Woman, Love Jones, Ever After, The Wedding Date, Trainwreck

Movies with romantic elements: The Proposal, Trainwreck, Maid in Manhattan, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days, Something New, Serendipity, While You Were Sleeping, Maid in Manhattan, The Proposal, Miss Congeniality, The Cutting Edge, A Walk in the Clouds, Return to Me, How Stella Got Her Groove Back, Under the Tuscan Sun, Love Story, Beyond the Lights, Circle of Friends, Belle, Closer, Stompin at the Savoy, Memoirs of a Geisha, Dangerous Beauty, Cinderella (the one where Whitney Houston plays the fairy godmother), Coming to America, Juno, You Me & Dupri, Parent Trap, Overboard, Braveheart, The Preacher’s Wife, Palm Trees in the Snow

Favorite vacation spot:

Hawaii

Favorite books:

You’d think that, since my movie list is a rabbit hole, my book list would be a labyrinth, but even with all of the books I’ve read, I’m selective about what makes my favorites list:

Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen, The Hating Game by Sally Thorne, Grin and Beard It by Penny Reid, Literally every book by Penny Reid, Hadassah: One Night With the King by Tommy Teney, The Twentieth Wife & The Feast of Roses by Indu Sundaresan, The Nonesuch by Georgette Heyer, Wildseed & Lilith’s Brood by Octavia Butler, The Twilight Series by Stephenie Meyer (YES, okay? It’s not literary genius but it’s very entertaining, if you skip book two), Perfume: The Story of a Murderer by Patrick Suskind, Master of the Game by Sidney, Sheldon, Psy-Changeling series by Nalini Singh

*With the advent of fanfiction, I’m much pickier about published books, which I’m sure you all understand. ;)

Favorite authors:

I have a to-read list half a mile long, so I’m sure this will change, but these are authors whom I find consistently write entertaining stories, even if they don’t make my favorites list:

Penny Reid, Alyssa Cole, Alisha Rai, Nalini Singh, Philippa Gregory, Farrah Rochon, Stephen King, John Grisham, Octavia Butler

What do you like better? AU or Canon?

I enjoy both, so long as they’re written well. Writing-wise, I’m more comfortable writing AU. With canon, I’m constantly aware that these aren’t my characters, so I’m sort of hyper aware of the constraints. And I have control issues. Lol.

Favorite trope/scenario to read?

Enemies to lovers, love at first sight

Favorite Olitz TV moment/conversation?

Seriously??? Only one? How about top three? Top five? Okay, fine, since you’re twisting my arm, I’ll give you my top ten in no particular order. (You drive a hard bargain):

1. VERMONT

2. “You almost died.” “Yes.” “Don’t do it again.” (she went in there to get him to comply, but then she actually LISTENS to him, like, really listens...and he changes her mind. They show a united front in this scene that was gorgeous to watch)

3. “I hate you.” “I know.” ...which morphed into…”You are everything and I am nothing.” ::ugly, mucous-dripping crying::

4. “Sit with me and watch me earn you.” (and obviously the AMAZING sex that came after)

5. Can the entire episode of The Trail be one?

a. “I got a guy.” “You got a guy? Another guy? Hell’s angel? Mobster? A kind hearted felon who owes you a favor?” “Technically, he’s on probation.”

b. Camp David. Allll the Camp David. They were so in love, cute and care-free.

c. Love scene from The Trail (It’s their best, IMO. Organic. Combustible. Raw.)

d. One minute on the couch

6. Pre-State Dinner shenanigans, Post-State Dinner Navy t shirt

7. Literally every Olitz phone call

8. 503 Oval Office Kiss ::swoon::

9. Truman Balcony kiss, because he was so vulnerable

10. Fitz saying “I still want you” in the AU episode, because it was so real, and I *believe they’re destined to be together in every universe.

*Honorable mentions: Rose Garden, Deskgate, Constitution (These were gripping, but I have personal, nitpicking reasons why they’re not in my top ten), allll the Season 6 bedtime snuggles, and every hug.

Anything else you’d like to share?

Ava DuVernay is my other BFF in my head.

Someday, when I’m confident enough in my knowledge of the era I choose (which will take years and years of research and development), I will write a historical fiction with a WOC heroine...possibly with elements of science fiction.

#author profile #iwrite4olitz

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rilenerocks · 5 years

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Every time I travel by car, by train or by air, I always feel like I’m in a time capsule. I’ve always thought about how strange it is to go into a mobilized enclosed space, stay there for varying periods of time and then emerge, still yourself, into a completely different place. Maybe it’s more of a space capsule than a time capsule. I can’t quite decide. Hours definitely tick away while you’re packed in your container. Little change happens inside, especially if you’re responsible for getting yourself where you’re going which is what car travel is like, particularly when you go alone. There are few distractions, no chores or tasks other than the driving itself.

Revery usually occurs in my head when I’m driving between the place where I came from until I arrive at the place where I’m going. Sometimes though, it’s stranger than revery. Despite the speed of travel and the need to focus on the road, I turn on music for a little company. Generally it’s my own music, pre-selected playlists with my favorite artists, sometimes accompanied by AI additions chosen based on my musical taste.

Things get both comfy and evocative inside my rolling container. And there are numerous moments when I feel like I’m not really in my current self, but back in other spaces that the music has released from the storage space of my memory. Last week I took a seven hour drive to visit a dear friend whose time with me goes back 50 years. As I rumbled along, thinking about all we knew about each other and how much of our seminal adult life we’d shared, I didn’t feel like I was doing the rote steering and braking and reading signs, following directions. I felt almost out of my body, back in the vivid memories which are so much a part of how my brain works. I don’t just think my memories. I see them, smell them and touch them. The sensory experience feels alive to me. I talked about this with my friend when I arrived at her home. She told me that she experienced memories in a more one-dimensional way and that one of the things that she thought most about what made me unique to her was that my pain, my joy and my memory were so powerful. And she said she was interested in the fact that I could transcend the emotion of them and use my intellect to override some of the more emotional aspects of those experiences. I appreciated her insight. The truth is that during my long drive to see her, I caught myself feeling that I’d been hallucinating events from long ago, in a good way as opposed to a scary way. I know something about hallucinations.

Back in my youthful days of drug experimentation, I approached the supposed cosmic experiences that people claimed they had with hallucinogens from a skeptical point of view. All around me, people were talking about how if you tried this drug or that drug, you would raise your consciousness or alter it, possibly forever. I never really believed that. Although I wasn’t as knowledgeable about the human body back then as I am today, I figured that whatever happened was just some chemical reaction and that you were who were no matter what drugs you did. Of course there were people who developed habits that were toxic and life-altering. Life damaging is perhaps a better description. Some made it back from those dark places and others didn’t. Other people had few if any side effects from what they ingested. I always believed that a real change in your consciousness was a deliberate intellectual process and I approached drug experimentation in that way.

The first time I decided to try LSD or more commonly, acid, I was armed with a yellow legal pad and a pen as I intended to record everything I was experiencing, using my mind to transcend the drug. I still have the sheet of paper I wrote that first time. It started out pretty clearly but it was obvious that staying focused was going to be tough considering the physiological effects happening in my brain and body. The one line I remember the most from that long night was that all that was happening to me was an exaggerated reality. Nothing was otherworldly. Everything was based on real life. I was, however, quite taken with the hallucinations that came along with tripping.

In my case, sizes and textures were visibly altered and I loved watching things move around in unusual ways. I guess it felt most like Alice going down the rabbit hole.

I remember watching my blue jeans swirl around in a paisley-like wiggly way and being enamored of the patterns. I could barely contain my laughter as I tried buying something, all the while watching my dollar grow and grow until it looked a giant bag. When I listened to music I was convinced I was hearing every instrument individually and simultaneously. For the most part, I had a lot of fun when I did those trips but they took a long time to do and a long time to recover from. And nothing really was any different when they were over. I was still just me. So that was a short-lived period in time.

But my memory hallucinations are a whole other matter. As I drove along, I was suddenly back in the kitchen in Michael’s apartment in 1971. By that time he and I had become the best of friends and although we were each involved with other people, we spent a lot of time together. We were standing side by side at the kitchen sink, washing and drying dishes and laughing at some story or other. He who so much taller than me, bent down on my right side to give me an affectionate kiss on my cheek. But I’d suddenly turned my head so his mouth landed on the corner of mine. And trite as though it may sound, I literally felt electricity course through my body. It was stunning because until that instant, I hadn’t given a moment’s thought to him as anyone other than a friend. I’m surprised I didn’t fall over.

That was an altering moment in my life. And as I zoomed along to Iowa, I was in that memory, from its start to its finish, feeling the same powerful surge in body that I felt then. So what’s up with that? Is it a flashback? Where’s the science behind it? I think there must be some but I have no idea what it might be, as I’ve tried as hard as I can to think how that could happen. And it wasn’t the only incident like that which happened during that car ride. The Beatles’ Sergeant Pepper album came on and I was standing in our family apartment at 2019 East 81st Street in Chicago.

I was waiting for Danny, the boy who I had a mad crush on, who told me he was bringing me a present. The year was 1967 and I’d turned 16 in May. The album was released a week later and I remember my joy, both at having it and having it come from him. I was feeling the quick hug he gave and literally staring down at the album jacket in my hands.

All the while I’m barreling down I-80, Iowa-bound. I had a lot of other moments like these on this journey. I’ve talked with my son-in-law who’s a chemistry professor about what may make someone like me have these odd moments that feel so alive in real time even though they’re long gone.

He talked about the evidence that now supports the idea of wavelengths being real and verifiable. He suggests that we still lack the technology that might answer questions like mine about memory, and others such as why people view certain events as examples of ESP. Maybe there just too much we don’t understand about how the brain works. All I know is that my mind is open to some of the off the beaten path experiences I feel. For example, I think I must emit some pheromone that helps induce sleeping in people. When someone rests against me for awhile, invariably that person will pass out. I come in very handy for crying, irritable babies. My kids nicknamed me “novocaine” for making their little ones numb out from their discomforts and just fall into deep sleep. It works on adults too.

I like my hallucinations. The good news is that they never are reflective of negative memories. I remember those more in black and white and in a cerebral way. Maybe that’s my brain’s way of protecting me. Otherwise, life could be too overwhelming. I don’t expect I’ll live long enough to ever have the answers I long for. But as the song goes, what a long, strange trip it’s been.

Hallucinations from a Time Capsule Every time I travel by car, by train or by air, I always feel like I’m in a time capsule.

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awesomewhatsappstatus-blog · 6 years

Text

whatsapp status

WHATSAPP STATUS

It’s So Lonely When You Don’t Even Know Yourself.

Good Friends Are Hard To Find, Difficult To Leave, Impossible To Forget.

A style is a way to say who u are without speaking.

Don’t Be Angry With People Who Don’t Have The Capacity To Change.

Anger Is My Power So Don’t Make Me Angry.

You’ve Got To Be Willing To Lose Everythings To Gain Yourself.

I Feel So Far Away From The One I Wish To Hold In My Arms.

A beautiful girl with gorgeous EYES, a hidden world of HURT & LIES.

Don’t Wish For It. Work For It. whatsapp status

There Is No Elevator To Success. You Have To Take Stairs.

Living Alone Makes It Harder To Find Someone To Blame.

Sometimes It’S Better To Be Alone. Nobody Can Hurt You In Life!

If I Delete Your Number, You’Re Basically Deleted For My Life.

It Takes Two Special People, To Make A Loving Pair. There’S A Joy Just Being Around You, A Feeling I Love To Share. whatsapp status

If You Feel Hollow, Let Me Be The One, Who Fills You Up With Love. Let Me Free The Butterflies Within. Just Open Your Heart, And Let Me In.

Pain Will Show Up. You Ca Either Run From It Or Grow From It.

Since You’ve Been Around I Smile A Lot More Than I Use To.

My Love Doesn’T Sleep, It Keeps On Looking For You With Its Eyes Open.

Anger Is Nothing Than An Outward Expression Of Hurt, Fear & Frustration.

Happiness Is Falling Asleep Next To You And Waking Up Thinking I’M Still In My Dreams.

If You Are Afraid Of Being Lonely. Don’t Try To Be Right.

A Friend Is Someone Who Can See The Truth And Pain In You Even When You Are Fooling Everyone Else

Hard Work Doesn’T Guarantee Success But Improves Its Chances.

All Angry Persons Are To Be Treated, By The Prudent, As Children.

Excellence Is Not Being Best: It Is Doing Your Best.

It’s So Lonely When You Don’t Even Know Yourself.

Tough Times Don’T Last: Tough People Do.

An Angry Man Opens His Mouth And Shuts His Eyes.

We Met For A Reason, Either You’Re A Blessing Or A Lesson.

Dreams Don’t Work Unless You Do. whatsapp status

People say I have a dirty mind, But I’m saying its just creative! !!

I talk to myself because I like dealing with a better class of people.

Silence Is The Best Way To React While Angry.

Don’t Judge Someone Just Because They Sin Differently Than You.

Live Out Of Your Imagination, Not Your History.

Sometimes I Feel Like I Am Completely In The Dark.

When someone says: u are UGLY TELL them oh sorry I was trying to look like you!!

Sorry heart, but I am listening to my brain this time. I know better.

Falling Down Is How We Grow, Staying Down Is How We Die.

I Would Rather Walk With A Friend In The Dark, Than Alone In The Light.

When Everything Is Lonely I Can Be My Best Friend.

Everyone Says You Only Fall In Love Once, But That’S Not True. Every Time I Hear Your Voice I Fall In Love All Over Again.

Hating Me Won’T Make You Pretty. whatsapp status

Love Is Of All Passions The Strongest, For It Attacks Simultaneously The Head, The Heart, And The Senses.

Love Is Knowing That Someone Is Always Be There For You.

Best Friend Is Someone Who Loves You When You Forget To Love Yourself.

Sometimes I Look At You And Wonder How You Can Be So Cute All The Time.

To Be A Best Friend Doesn’T Take Much, A Shoulder, An Ear, Some Understanding, And Not Even Have To Say A Word To Make You Laugh Or Smile

I’m not changed it’s just I grew up and u should try too.

Good Friends Will Share The Umbrella. Best Friends Will Steal It And Yell: Run Loser Run!

Enjoy These Moments Now, Because They Don’t Last Forever.

Your Voice For Me Is Better Than All My Favorite Songs.

You Do Most Adorable Things Without Realizing.

Nobody Makes You Angry. You Decide To Use Anger As A Response.

Never Let The Things You Want Make You Forget The Things You Have.

A Woman With A Voice Is By Definition, A Strong Woman.

I Have No Special Talents. I Am Only Passionately Curious.

When You Feel Like Quitting Think About Why You Started.

I love to cry in the rain because that’s the only time no one can hear the pain.

Every Accomplishment Starts With The Decision To Try.

I Like To Be Alone. But I Would Rather Be Alone With You.

I’M The Person Everyone Replaces After A While.

A Hundred Hearts Would Be Too Few To Carry All My Love For You.

Sometimes I Get To The Point Of Frustration, That I Just Become Silent.

Sometimes It’S Ok To Be Selfish.

You’re The Best Thing I Never Knew Needed.

Life Is Change. Growth Is Optional. Choose Wisely.

Leave Our Boundaries Alone. Let Us Solve Our Own Problems.

U Can’t Switch Off Ur Feelings Just Because Other Person Did

And Then I Think That May Be I Was Designed To Be Alone.

The Soul That Sees Beauty May Sometimes Walk Alone.

Don’t Walk Behind Me; I May Not Lead. Don’t Walk In Front Of Me; I May Not Follow. Just Walk Beside Me And Be My Friend.

If You’Re Your Authentic Self, You Have No No Competition.

It’s Better To Be Unhappy Alone Than Unhappy With Someone.

If You Wake Me Up & I Don’T Get Angry, You Must Be Pretty Special.

Only A True Best Friend Can Protect You From Your Immortal Enemies.

If Someone Is Angry With You And You Laugh At Them, You Win.

Control Your ” Anger “. It Is Just One Letter Away From “D” Anger.

Chemistry Is You Touching My Mind And It Setting My Body On Fire.

The Quite You Become, The More You Can Hear.

I Love Listening To Lies When I Know The Truth.

Falling In Love With You Is The Second Best Thing In The World. Finding You Is The First.

It isn’t the bad memories that make you sad, but the best ones that you can’t bring it back.

Life Could Be Wonderful If People Would Leave You Alone.

The Way To Love Anything Is To Realize That It May Be Lost.

It Costs $0.00 To Be Decent Human Being.

Anger Is Never Without A Reason, Butt Seldom With A Good One.

For Every Minute You Are Angry You Lose Sixty Seconds Of Happiness.

Love Is When You Look Into Someone’s Eye And See Everything You Ever Need.

I’M That Fool Who Lied To Me That You’ll Never Leave Me.

It’s Easier To Say You’re Mad Than To Admit You’Re Hurt.

The greatest pain that comes from love is loving someone you can never have.

I’d Rather Be Happy And Alone Than With You And Miserable.

I don’t regret my past. I just regret the time I have wasted with the wrong people.

Don’t Compare Your Beginning To Someone Else’S Middle.

I Forgive But Don’t Forget, Because I Never Want To Be Hurt The Same Way Twice.

Falling In Love Is Only Half Of I Want, Staying In Love With You For Till Forever Is The Other.

I Am If I Changed, But You Changed Too.

I Am Like Being Single. I’M Always There When I Need Me.

When You Feel Like You’re Fighting Alone In Life That’S When You Should Be Fighting The Hardest!

It Is Better To Have Loved And Lost Than Never To Have Loved At All.

Tell Me & I Forget, Teach Me & May Remember. Involve Me & U Learn.

Fall In Love With The Process And The Results Will Come.

Be Happy. Be Bright. Be Happy.

Anyone who has never made a mistake has never tried anything new. !!

Everyone Says U Fall In Love Only Ones, But I Fall Daily With The Same Person.

Roses Are Red, Violets Are Blue, Love Never Crossed My Mind Until The Day I Met You.

Anger Is A Condition In Which The Tongue Works Faster Than The Mind.

I Wanna Be The One Your “Ex” Will Hate, Your Mom Dad Will Love, And The One You’Ll Never Forget.

Don’T Afraid Of Being Outnumbered. Eagles Fly Alone. Pigeons Flock Together.

I don’t understand why life keeps trying to teach me lessons I don’t want to learn.

Always Stand For What Is Right, Even If You Are Standing Alone.

Stop Trying To Fit In, When You Were Born To Stand Out.

It’s Far Better To Be Alone Than To Be In Bad Company.

The Harder You Work, The Luckier You Get.

Friendship Doubles Your Joy And Divides Your Sorrow.

They Judge Me Before That Even Know Me. That’S Why I’M Better Off Alone.

Losers Quit When They Fail. Winners Fail Until They Succeed.

What Is A Best Friend? A Single Soul In Two Bodies.

I Am Trying To Be Alone Without Feeling Lonely.

A Lie is a Lie, no matter how big or how small.

Focus! Otherwise, You Will Find Life Becomes A Blue.

Hurt Me With Truth But Please Never Comfort With Lies.

If You Speak Alone All The Times You Will Always Be Right.

I’M In My Bed, You’Re In Your Bed. One Of Us Is In The Wrong Place.

A Good Friend Is Hard To Find, Hard To Lose, And Impossible To Forget

You Blocked Me On Facebook & Noe You’Re Going To Die.

When I’M Shouting, Your Fine. It’S When I Go Silent You Need To Worried.

Best Friends Are There For You Even If You Refuse To Talk To Them. Because They Know, Deep Down, The Silence Is Killing You.

I Promise To Never Let You Feel Alone In This World.

It’s Better To Be Alone Than To Be In Bad Company.

Let Your Faith Be Bigger Than Your Fears.

Love Is Like A Rubber Band Held At Both Ends By Two People When One Leaves It Hurts The Other.

Anger Is One Letter Short Of Danger.

When It Rains Look For Rainbows. When It’S Dark Look For Stars.

When U Are Angry, Ur-Text Speed Increases By A Ridiculous Amount.

The Best Way To Get A Woman’S Heart Is To Give Her Yours.

I Never Feel Alone Because Loneliness Is Always With Me.

Before you judge me make sure that you’re perfect.. ??

Sell The Problems You Solve, Not The Product.

If The Plan Doesn’T Work, Change The Plan But Never The Goal.

Let Me Love You If Not For The Rest Of Your Life Then For The Rest Of Mine.

Wanna Hug Yuh Soo Tight…That Even Air Couldn’T Fill The Space Between Us.

People Won’T Have Time For You If You Are Always Angry Or Complaining.

Nice Friendship Is Like The Breathing Air, You Will Never See It But You Will Always Feel Its Presence.

Losers Quite When They’Re Tired. Winners Quit When They’Ve Won.

Friends Are Like Stars, They Come And Go, But The Ones That Stay Are The Ones That Glow

You’re better off being alone than being with someone who makes you feel like you’re alone.

Virginity is not dignity, It is just lack of opportunity.

I don’t have an attitude!! I have a personality U can’t handle!!!

It Takes A Lot Of Guts, Doesn’T Let People Get To You. Always remember you are unique, just like everyone else. !!

I Never Dreamed About Success. I Work For It.

I’M So Lonely That I Don’t Want To Be With Myself Anymore.

Just Because You’Re Angry, Doesn’T Mean You Have The Right To Be Cruel.

My Attitude Will Always Be Based On How You Treat Me.

It Takes Millions of People To Make The World, But Mine Is Completed With 1 And Its You.

Motivational Is What Gets You Started. Habit Is What Keeps You Going.

When I See You, I Just Smile & Say ” My Day Is Perfect “.

God Gives His Hardest Battles To His Toughest Soldiers.

Some people R just so FAKE that if u look properly at the back of their neck, you’ll find a tag saying “MADE IN CHINA”

Making Mistakes Is Better Than Faking Perfections.

All Relationships Have One Law. Never Make The One You love Feel Alone, Especially When You’re There.

Anger Tears Me Up Inside…My Own…Or Anyone Else’S.

The Best Mirror Is An Old Friend.

I’M Honestly Probably Going To Be Alone For The Rest Of My Life.

It’s Just A Chapter In Your Life, Turn The Page And Move On.

Sometimes I’M Not Angry. I’M Hurt And There’S A Big Diff.

Love is when you look into someone’s eyes and see everything you ever need.

Don’t Be Scared To Walk Alone. Don’t Be Scared To Like It.

You Can Push Them Away, But People Who Really Love You Will Always Choose To Stay.

Sometimes, you have to smile to hide your fears and laugh to hide your tears.

A Quick Temper Will Make A Fool Of You Soon Enough.

A True Friend Is That One Which Takes Your Hand But Touches Your Heart.

Sometimes The Biggest Smile Contains The Most Pain.

You Didn’T Come This Far To Only Come This Far.

Push Yourself, Because No One Else Is Going To Do It For You.

Yes I Am Smiling But You Are Not The Reason Anymore.

Pretending to be happy when you’re in pain is just an example of how strong you are as a person.

Life Goes On: Who Can Not Be On Time – Remains Alone.

Even The Nicest People Have Their Limits.

Some People Need To Open Their Small Minds Instead Of Their Big Mouths.

Don’T Ruin A Good Today By Thinking About A Bad Yester. Let It Go.

You Call It Being Alone. I Call It Enjoying My Own Company.

I Smile Like An Idiot When I’M Talking To You. Doesn’t Matter If It’S A Person Or Through Text Or Anything Else. I Just Smile Because It’S You.

Never Go To Bed Angry, Stay Awake And Plot Your Revenge.

When People Get Angry With Him, I Remind Them That He’S Kid.

A Fresh Start Requites Nothing But A Spirit To Fight From Failures.

The Greatest Pain That Comes From Love, Is Loving Someone Who Is Not Here.

If You Want To Be Strong Learn How To Fight Alone.

Self-Care Is Not Selfish. You Cannot Server From An Entry Vessel.

Whatever Is Begun In Anger Ends In Shame.

Don’t Make So Many Promises When You Can’t Even Keep One.

I Hate The Moments When Suddenly My Anger Turns Into Tears.

Sometimes It’s Better To Be Alone, Nobody Can Hurt You.

Sometimes, I Think Too Much And Then Make Myself Sad.

The Best Way To Stay Close To Someone Is By Being Just Friend. Nothing More And Nothing Less.

I’m not a virgin, my life fucks me every day.

A Single Rose Can Be My Garden… A Single Friend, My World.

I Wish I Could Ignore You, The Way You Ignore Me.

Wake Up With Determination. Go To Bed With Satisfaction.

Never Depends On Others Too Much Because Someday You Will Have To Walk Alone.

Don’t Make Me Angry And Change Your Status.

I Hope Karma Slaps You In The Face Before I Do.

Hello Darkness! My Old Friend. I Have To Talk With You Again.

You Should Make A Woman Angry If You Wish Her To Love.

Sometimes, The Biggest Smile Contains The Most Pain.

A Friend Is Someone Who Knows All About You And Still Loves You.

Don’t Let Me Go Because of I’M Tired Of Feeling Alone.

Success Is The Sum Of Small Efforts, Repeated Day In & Day Out.

If You Want To Be Strong Learn How To Fight Alone.

Good People Bring Out The Good In Other People.

I Am Not In A Bad Mood, Everyone Is Just Annoying.

Tell The Truth, Or Eventually, Someone Will Tell It For You.

People Change. Things Go Wrong. Shit Happens. But Life Goes On.

Always Do Small Things With Great Love.

Save water drink beer.

Always Believe That Somethings Wonderful Is About To Happen.

If you obey all the rules, you’ll miss all the fun.!!!

I Don’t Want To Lose This Feeling. If I Could Choose A Place To Die, It Would Be In Your Arms.

Meeting You Was Fate, Becoming Your Friend Was A Choice, But Falling In Love With You Was Beyond My Control.

Friendship… Is Not Something You Learn In School. But If You Haven’T Learned The Meaning Of Friendship, You Really Haven’T Learned Anything.

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