#the comment that sold me on the flats

[inflammatory]

One day you think to yourself damn the guitar work on bigmouth strikes again is honestly mad, and the next

Foiled the bridge pegs - worked really great and just looks sharp even though you don’t…see the pegs, but i spun the peg screws out so the bridge sits rather high, got a proper ‘float’ over the body the way a thing called a floating bridge ought to. The treble side I put higher up to eliminate the superchoked treble strings (the issue was the very very low action, fretting any fret from around 10 and up rang out as like…22!)

With the raised bridge the rattle is worse! Because the jaguar/jazzmaster floating bridge sits in its sockets fixed in only by the tension of the strings. When you bring it up, there’s more room for it to rattle - so the foil wrapped pegs work to fill up the sockets, eliminating this rattle because it fits way more snugly

And anyway I finally found an explanation for the shim that I get that isn’t just a vague “oh it’s part of the offset equation” - hazeguitars explains it as a consequence of the raised bridge itself, cause the intention of raising the bridge for most is for the break angle, where the strings run from fretboard up to the bridge, then break downwards again towards the anchor point in the trem system. Which makes the tension/pressure on the bridge more effective, holds it better, and eliminates buzz (huge nightmare for jag/jm owners apparently but well, never really bothered me, what bothered me was the action so low that the guitar did not function as a guitar!!)

So the assumption is if you raise the bridge for the break angle you don’t want the high action that comes with it, so you put a shim in the neck pocket which will bump the fretboard up a little and keep your break angle without a high ass action.

Which is what I did blindly before I even brought the bridge up. My shim is flat and doesn’t angle up nearer to the body of the guitar because, repeating, this morning I was a sucker without a clue. Thing is because I fiddled with the bridge to fix my action, I believe my break angle isn’t extreme as the ideal is - my bridge still kind of buzzes (granted, not a problem that bothered me until today, I can’t really hear it!! Unless i actively listen out for it!)

Play wise it’s nice, fixed the choked frets and actually it’s better than before the problem even cropped up because it used to be a nightmare fretting high cause it wouldn’t ring as the correct note unless i pressed down really fierce. Now it works fine with normal fretting. I am no jimi hendrix but in this case i can actually say it wasnt all me it was squier by fender and their balls out shitty offset guitar stock set ups. From all the reading i did to understand this guitar I dont think you could play a jaguar nice off the shelf. But he’s never more trouble than he’s worth!!

[acowboynamedasa]

Ok I know I already made a post about watchertv and how it’s a horrible idea and no have not had a change of heart about that- but I really just want to get into the math of everything because like, they we’re making a LOT of money.

(Full disclosure this post has been edited to be more accurate with help from commenters)

Patreon: they have 12,000 supporters, but only 5,900 paying supporters (at the time of me checking today. Many definitely unsubscribed when this video dropped). The tear options are 5, 10, 25, and 100 dollars. Assuming that most people are in the 5-10 range, I’ll average it at about 7 dollars. Witch is 41,300 a month.

Merch sales: they have a very devout fan base that buys a lot of merch, they sell a plastic paper weight for 36 dollars. All of their hoodies are 80 dollars. Their shirts are 35-50 dollars. They sell a pack of 7 patches of their different show logos for 65 dollars. The posters are 80 dollars. To my knowledge They do not publicly share what they make from merch sales, but I know that they have sold out of certain styles, witch means that people are buying these. The merch is without a doubt at a very steep profit margin- no where in the world will it cost 80 or even 40 dollars to make these- so we can just assume that whatever assured total we come too, it will be higher by 10-20 thousand(just an estimate, I’m not an expert on YouTube merch).

Sponsorships: (this info is from moist critical who runs a company who specialize in setting up brand sponsorships with YouTube channels.) watcher is/was a very big and successful channel, with 2 minute sponsorships adds on every video I could find- they are with out a doubt making 20-30 thousand dollars from every one of those sponsorships. They post weekly, meaning they make about 100,000 a month from that. This doesn’t include any money they received from discount codes either, only about 2% of viewers use discount codes so it’s fair to say they receive a few thousand dollars from that, we can just total it to about 101,000 to be conservative.

views: YouTube has always been very hush hush about what they pay. Different YouTubers have stepped forward and said what they make on views alone but watcher is not one of these channels. With watchers average views being about 800,000 per video (very ‘about’, some get 3 million and others only reach 500,000) and YouTubes policy being about .018 cents per view we can say they comfortably make 14,400 per video, 57,000 a month.

Add cents: add cents and views are a different thing, for every add that is seen in a video you get a adicional .018 cents, watchers content is very monetizable, and with it being long form content 30-45 minutes, they have a lot of adds. Let’s just assume 1-2 mid roll ads on every video and that’s an additional 20,000 per video, 80,000 a month.

Adding ALL of that together

Watcher makes 279,300 dollars a month. Flat out, no merch added.

If you think you can’t afford to pay 25 people a month with 279,300 dollars- I literally don’t know what to tell you.

[queenhunter102]

Buying a house/flat with you for the first time

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

I can see Simon feeling excited and ready to move in knowing that you would be in a safe place, somewhere he knows is safe and secure.

He would be very much a hard person to shop for a permanent home with, he would be incredibly critical of every place, he would complain about things you believe are small and inconsequential, he would complain about a door not being screwed in properly, he would complain about the thickness of the window pane.

It would take you weeks to find the ‘right’ home, it would be a flat in a secure building that required a fob to get inside, it was at the top of the building forcing you to take two lifts to the top, as well as a flight of stairs, you had passed comment on the two lifts and the flight of stairs were a bit excessive, but he disagreed, thinking he could leave you here for long periods and not worry that someone could break in and hurt, his baby, his Everything.

Johnny ‘Soap’ McTavish

I could see Johnny being not quite the polar opposite of Simon, he would still be just as protective and be just as picky with his housing choices, but I could see it being more relaxed I could see him becoming almost manipulative with it, him passing comments such as “Do you think that’s safe, with me gone for so long?” or “Imagine if the light went out in the close, how would you see any threat coming?”

you would nod and agree, not really thinking much of it, just believing he was being a good and dutiful boyfriend, but when you found the home you truly adored and believed you could spend the rest of your life there, you saw it, the manipulation, but just rolled your eyes and fought with him on it. So much so He gave it, hating that it had a wrap-around porch, big bay windows and three entrances, the front door, the back door and the side door.

Captain John Price

Now I think John is a little different, he has already bought and sold a couple of houses so he knows what he likes and what he doesn’t and over the months before asking you to buy a place with him, he would show you pictures, ones he had pre-approved obviously like he was going to show you something he didn’t like or think wasn’t safe enough for you.

When you finally did start viewing properties, he would steer clear of the big houses or the high-rise flats, as Johnny and Simon had bought, he managed to find a pretty house, with a second bedroom for if the boys needed it or for any future kids he had with you.

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick

Now, Kyle, I could see being the total opposite, he wouldn’t care truly he wouldn’t, he felt as long as the door was secure and he could put a few more locks on it, he didn’t mind, all he cared about was his first home that he would share with you. This man would walk around the properties and shrug his shoulders at things, he would pass comments on the wall texture or how he didn’t like how the kitchen layout didn’t feel right, but he would test the front door, practically ramming into it, testing to see how it would hold against someone ramming their shoulder into it.

So much so, that when he first did it you yelped hearing the loud bang, I could also see him finding the townhouses in the city to be very appealing that man would adore the doors since he could put big strong storm doors on them that could damn near survive a nuclear explosion and then he could buy the same for the internal door, I could see him fighting you on this house heavily.

Alejandro Vargas

Now this man is calm collected and stress-free, he has seen Simon’s flat, Johnny’s house, Kyle’s townhouse and John’s house, he had eyed each place taking subtle notes, on how protected he wants you to be, how secure he wants your shared space to be, he takes note on how to behave and how to check if the potential property is up to his standards.

He had gone to properties by himself, checking out prospects, he would never approach you with shitty properties, that didn’t meet his standards, I could see him finding a second-story flat that had a secure entrance, when he approached you with these properties, you had wanted to check out the area check for your first home, he would nod his head and agree, but he knew what you liked and what you didn’t and when you had narrowed to his favoured second story flat, he smiled and agreed.

“Of course, I think it’s a good place to” or “I agree, it seems like the best option.”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I asked my girlfriend to get me a replacement mask?

So I and my girlfriend (both adults) are in a long-distance relationship and live on different continents but visit each other for periods of weeks to months at a time. As background context, my girlfriend is notoriously bad with money - she's owed me over $1500 for half a year now after I covered some big expenses for her when she was unable to save in time, though I've told her there's no particular deadline for giving it back and to just do it when she's able, but she's also borrowed money from her parents, she's paying off a credit card debt, and despite having a full-time job she seems completely unable to save anything substantial and is constantly buying things.

We both like a certain musician, and this shared interest in the musician is actually how we met in the first place and bonded. They've dropped some merch in the past, and it always sold out within 5-10 minutes, and they're borderline impossible to get now unless you a) are lucky enough to find another fan who's giving theirs away, which is super rare because of how hard they are to replace, or b) are willing to fork out thousands of dollars for a resold one on some dodgy site somewhere. One of the merch items I got from one of those drops was a facemask, and my girlfriend has a matching one - I can't remember if it was something I bought for her, since I did that with some merch if I got there in time, or one she bought herself. It became a huge comfort item for me - I'm both autistic and have avoidant personality disorder, so I'm almost always in some kind of mask to hide my face, and this one being connected to a special interest as well as comfortable and a perfect size (and goes with all my clothes!) made me super happy. Last time she visited, we joked around about having identical masks but that it was easy to tell which one was hers because it had makeup stains all over the inside.

As she packed to leave, I mentioned that I couldn't find my mask anywhere and asked if she'd picked mine up as well as hers by accident, so she dug through her bags and said she didn't have it, only hers. I was kinda disappointed but I figured it'd turn up sooner or later so I accepted it, and she flew back home.

A few days later, she let me know she'd unpacked and discovered she actually did have both our masks. I asked her to send it back to me, and she said she would.

Fast forward a few months, I'd asked a few more times, and she always said she would soon. Eventually, when I asked one time, she told me she'd lost it. Her mother had tidied her entire room and she no longer had any idea where either of our masks were. I was kind of frustrated so I asked why she couldn't have just sent it over when I initially asked, and she snapped back that she couldn't afford it, which doesn't make much sense to me because she definitely does have enough to send over a flat envelope, which a fabric face mask would easily fit in just like a letter.

It's been a few months since then and I've been looking and looking for any kind of replacement, but all I can find are knock-off versions that are made from different materials or don't look the same. I did see one resold for like $20 ages ago, so it definitely happens, but it's so rare.

WIBTA if I told my girlfriend I'm expecting her to replace the one she lost even if it's putting more financial pressure on her? I feel really dumb for getting so upset about a mask, but it was one of my favourite belongings and it's genuinely upsetting that it was taken and lost.

To get out ahead of any comment saying it, I have full 100% faith that she did not do it intentionally and she didn't sell it or anything like that. She wouldn't have even thought about the possibility of doing that and I absolutely believe it was an accident and she just grabbed both masks or had been holding onto mine for me and forgotten it was in a bag etc.

[cultofsappho]

In honor of AGCD 🤠, a list of my berserk findings in roughly chronological order RE: A RWRB Sequel:

1. When the movie come out, Casey did an AMA on Threads for both Alex, then Henry. In Henry's AMA, they posted this:

Meaning at the very least they'd be open to writing/sharing/creating more for Alex and Henry, if not a direct sequel [more from the AMA: X]

2. Casey also had an interview with Out Magazine in Nov '23 where they were asked if the want to write a sequel and they said "Of course I'd love to! 😉 I don't think i'm allowed to say anything more than that.😊" They're so fucking precious. We all know what 'not allowed to say' means. [twitter video: X]

3. Taylor has had a bunch of interviews recently, mostly as an ambassador to the SAG awards. He's been asked a dozen times about a RWRB sequel and everytime he says something along the lines of "Anything could happen! But I don't know, they don't tell me these things aha! 🤪 Give me a call!" And he's so unbelieveably obvious that his interview clips have already been compared to Andrew Garfield denying having any role in Spider-Man: No Way Home: [tiktok: X]

4. PrimeVideoUK has been bringing up RWRB & Firstprince more on social media recently. It could be for any number of reasons, it's their movie they can market however they feel like. Especially since Nick has a bunch of projects releasing rn (one of which, The Idea Of You is also releasing on Prime this summer), they may want to capitalize on the attention on him. Or, it could be to test RWRB's engagement #s... [tweet: X] [tweet: X] [twitter poll w/a rwrb sweep: X] [tiktok: X] And all the comments on these posts (and more) are begging for a sequel. So, if their social media manager is passing on the message... 👀

5. This is def a reach, so if you don't mind, i'm pulling out the red string for this conspiracy corkboard. But Casey was recently in London, it could have been a trip for literally anything. But, the first movie was filmed (and maybe produced idfk) in London. [insta post: X] they sold the movie rights for RWRB before the book was released, if I'm remembering that right, but maybe they retain rights to sign off on a sequel.

so anyway i was thinking about all those little things adding up in my head and thinking i was on to some kind of conspiracy then Nick goes and does press for Mary & George (which i just started, and is amazing btw) and says this shit:

6. Nick confirms in an interview with HitsRadio that they're talking about a RWRB sequel. Just flat out: "Yeah obv conversations are happening, duh! 😇" energy. God bless him. He says there have been conversations about a sequel. And, they're all on the same page that the script needs to be right and "all the components" need to be right. [X minute 15:50 they bring up the rwrb sequel, but the whole interview is great and you should watch it!]

ANYWAY i'm in a land of delusion, gnawing on the iron bars of my enclosure, etc, but also maybe not bc they're talking about a sequel and now we just need to wait for the greenlight

And (pseudo point #7), it would be a dumb business decision for Prime to not make a sequel. RWRB did way too well for an LGBT product, releasing during a dual actors and writer's strike, with little to no promo and zero press tour. From the RWRB Wikipedia page: "For the first three weeks after its release, it was the top watched film worldwide on the platform and provoked what Prime Video described as "a huge surge" of new subscribers." [X] And subscribers are all these streaming services care about.

I can't wait to reblog this with a screenshot when they inevitably post an offical confirmation for a sequel movie...

[luvtonique]

I realized something this morning.

This is probably gonna be a long post. (Edit, yep)

I'm a pretty fairly public figure on the internet, and I very regularly interact with a huge amount of people. From YouTube Comments to Discord to Tumblr Asks/Comments to Newgrounds Reviews to MMO Chat to Mic-Chat on Games to Twitch Chat to Stream Chat, blah blah blah.

I've, for years now, over a decade (hell over two decades) talked to probably thousands of people, and have been able to get a gauge on a pretty safe to say "average" of collective human intelligence on the internet.

I've come to realize that not everybody has that kind of experience talking to people online as I do. I've talked to literally thousands, probably near ten thousand, people online in my life.

This is a staggeringly high number and puts me in an outlier position among the rest of you, who likely have only interacted with a double digit number of people online in your life.

Now that you have that information in mind, here's what I realized this morning.

I realized that the reason I don't listen to people, ESPECIALLY when it comes to politics, is because I have learned through talking to all these people that fucking nobody knows what they're fucking goddamn talking about.

I study a lot of things in my spare time, and history is a huge one that I study. I very regularly read and listen to multiple sources talking about historic events, and I make sure to look at as many sources as possible, sometimes including reading encyclopedias in my own home that we've owned for like 40 years.

I cross-reference all of these things and paint a picture of the most likely truths through various means.

Why's that important? Because sometimes a 14 year old on Twitter, literally nearly less than a third my age, will occasionally come along telling me that I'm wrong. Not about history necessarily, but about some opinion that I have based on my own experience and my own knowledge that I've researched myself.

I usually ask them where they got their information, and I'm met with boldfaced idiocy. Completely braindead shit like "180,000 people said it on Twitter," or they link me a Tumblr post with 100k notes, or they say "It's common knowledge," (which is the biggest red flag of them all because not only does it prove they have no evidence to back up what they're saying, but as this post will go on to explain, "common knowledge" is quite literally the worst source of information on anything. People commonly think the earth is flat and that Scientology is real. People commonly think that walking under a ladder or breaking a mirror gives you bad luck. People commonly think that naturally blue food exists.)

In my life I have met thousands of people, and THOUSANDS of them are fucking idiots who very very smugly state completely incorrect knowledge. Earlier today someone tried to tell me that the creators of Beat Saber never sold the company to Facebook, and I showed them proof and they went silent for 3 hours and then went "Yeah so what, Facebook is still a good company" and I wanted to beat my head against the desk.

The internet is full of people who are fascinatingly ignorant. I'm not calling myself "better" or "smarter" than anyone here, I'm just saying that I have learned better than most people that people on the internet are not, and never fucking will be, a good source of information. I don't care if they're your best fucking friend, the coin-toss of them knowing what they're talking about or actually having the facts is so heavily weighted against them, it's seriously like a 98% chance they have no fucking clue what they're talking about.

I urge everyone to take a moment and realize that the internet is, in fact, a good place to find information and do research, but PEOPLE ON THE INTERNET, especially MEDIA AND SOCIAL MEDIA, are NOT SMART PEOPLE AND ARE NOT GOOD SOURCES FOR YOUR INFORMATION.

These are angry, smug, annoying little idiots who are likely 14 years old with a 1st grade reading comprehension who aspires to be a TikTok content creator as a career, and under no fucking circumstance should you ever, ever, EVER listen to any social, financial, religious, gendered, medical or political advice they give.

The world has gotten vastly out of control with how much people think "A lot of people agree with me" is a good enough reason to solidify your opinions. "A lot of people agree" is the biggest red flag ever, because people on the fucking internet are complete fucking idiots, I'm sorry, but I'm someone with far more experience talking to people on the internet than literally any of you reading this. I talk to people on the internet as a career and have been doing this for longer than most of you reading this have been alive.

So what's the point of this? What's the take-away?

The take-away is that I'm saddened by how many people will attack each other vehemently, cut off friends and family members, label people as toxic or problematic, jump to conclusions, etc. based on complete and utter misinformation spouted to them by people who have never once in their entire life actually looked up what the fuck they're talking about. They treat random strangers on Twitter as "experts" because that person is well articulated or put together a YouTube video with really good editing that's softly spoken by a British accent guy and has scary music whenever some "evil" person is on the screen.

The take-away is that people, like yourself (don't you dare try to deny it) will just believe whatever they read on social media, or whatever their Discord friend-group is talking about, because they are living in a complete falsehood that people on the internet know better than they do.

You are not incapable of doing your own research. You are not incapable of finding the truth. You are not stupid. Just do your own research, look into things yourself, cross-reference, use the scientific method, go to a library, read books, for fuck sake please adopt the basic social skill of "If someone says it on the internet it is most likely not true and I should look into it myself."

Because the current state of people is monstrous.

Y'all get so fucking mad about things that are just plain not true, and you revolve your entire life around things you were told by complete idiots and/or children on Twitter and other social media websites.

Stop.

Look at yourself, look at how angry you get about things, and consider that there may be a possibility that anger stems from a complete lack of any foundation or truth in your own beliefs.

Consider the almost 100% guaranteed possibility that you have been blatantly lied to by people who have no fucking idea what they're talking about, and that you are violently upholding standards that are incorrect because you have placed trust in the word of untrustworthy people.

Look up confirmation bias, read about it.

Look up manipulation tactics, read about it.

Look up "Plato's Republic" and read about it.

Absolutely, under no circumstances, should you ever, EVER, form your social or religious or political or financial or gendered or sexual etc. opinions based on SHIT YOU READ ON SOCIAL MEDIA.

And while we're here, don't listen to the news either. They're just a bunch of parrots saying what needs to be said to get you all fighting with each other so that the government can fuck things up while you're distracted. Do your own research, check multiple sources, don't consider social media or regular media to be a 'source,' get every bit of information from every angle, and for fuck sake, stop attacking people for disagreeing with you when you, yourself, only believe what you believe because your friend group believes it and you know that if you disagree with your friend group they'll all attack you so you'd rather be on their side, which only further proves my point that y'all need to fucking chill.

"Democracy will never work. If 3 medical experts tell you that you must eat a ginger root to cure your ailments, but 100,000 idiots with no medical experience tell you otherwise, you're more likely to believe the 100,000 idiots. They are louder, there are more of them, and you will gamble on the hope that among those 100,000 idiots, there must be more than 3 medical experts. The voice of the ignorant will always drown out the voice of the educated."

-Plato's Republic, 375BCE (Paraphrased)

"I can't believe Jay just called us all idiots and expects us to listen to him"

-Someone in the comments of this (It's gonna happen)

PS: If you looked up "Naturally Blue Food," and found out it does in fact not exist, good for you for doing your own research!

[the-90s-music-colosseum]

Round 2 Group D Match 6

expand for propaganda! (major wall of text warning)

Henry Rollins:

"Honestly, Johnny Mnemonic Henry with the glasses and the lab coat was pretty hot"

"A wonderful physical specimen. Plus he’s really funny and weird….best hot ones interview of all time."

"I want him to run me over with a bus"

Stephen Malkmus:

"i can't even stand stephen malkmus but there's a very special girl out there who needs this win"

"My perpetually stoned, nonsensical girlfriend...if we don't invent the time machine soon I might die. He's like 6 ft tall so unfortunately I'd be like one of those birds that ride on giraffes and eat bugs out of their fur. And then I'd die in a weed accident during the recording of Wowee Zowee? Before that though I'd spend 25 hrs a day in bed with him. Alright thanks"

"Stephen Malkmus chronically addicted to moaning and gasping in Pavement songs like he’s getting the best dicking down of his life in the back of the tour bus while everyone else is asleep"

"This is the indie-label match, right? Then it has to be Malkmus, he *made* the scene. And he's still releasing excellent music today. He's just the most influential rockstar of the 90s."

"my gay pavement fan uncle gets out of prison tonight and he knows you ratted him out in '06. the only way to make this right is to vote for stephen"

"Pretty please vote for him, my friend loves him and he really wants him to win"

""There were times he refused to speak to his bandmates, pulling a jacket over his head and referring to himself as "the little bitch"." I have also heard him refer to himself as a brat, a queen, a primadonna, a sociopath, and a narcissist. All of these descriptors have made me want to slam him against a wall and turn his neck fun new colors."

"I mean, Pavement is THEE indie band of the 90s. The lowkey snark, Koreaaaa, so much style that it's wasted. And Malkmus is an understated cool rockstar: the hair, the face, Silver Jews! He never ever sold out. He's the 90s."

"the most beautiful man ever he looks like a gorgeous fairytale prince. he has been hot since he emerged on the scene and continues to be so as their reunion tour comes to a close. stephen forever"

"we have to consider the autism swagger. find me a pavement write up that doesn’t spend three paragraphs waxing lyrical on his inability to make eye contact. find me a YouTube comment section that doesn’t have hoards of moms swooning over his flat affect. his refusal to wear anything more formal than a flannel for the first decade of his career? genuinely culturally influential. 30 glorious years of expressionless performances. sunglasses in the dark. so many straight men falling over themselves for him they made a joke about it in the Barbie movie. raw tbh sex appeal. and he’s got a great nose"

"he had a couple of unfortunate haircuts during this period but highkey i would break both of my arms to just be able to make out with him. please vote for SM my life is in danger if you don't"

[deepspacequeer]

hey y’all! I finally got pictures of this new stuff. I’m trying to start doing some small stuff that I can sell in a price range that’s more affordable to people who can’t do a $300 16x20 inch collage, haha. I’m still sorting out what’s fair for me while trying to make owning something I’ve made more accessible so if you see some price changes along the way that’s why! I’m also experimenting with materials, sizes, and time spent on things.

anyway! the square collages are on 6x6 inch flat wood panels that are 1/8th of an inch thick and the rectangle collages are on 6x8 inch flat wood panels that are 1/4th of an inch thick.

the 6x6 inch collages are $35 and the 6x8 inch collages are $45. the price includes shipping costs within the US. if you’re outside of the US then I’ll need you to give me your address before I can come up with a total. these are pretty light and small though so unless you’re getting a few it shipping shouldn’t be too crazy.

ask me about buying a display easel for an extra $5 on your total. here’s an example of what a 6x6 inch collage looks on one!

please message me through the tumblr messenger and NOT my inbox. it’s hard for me to keep a record of convos if you use the inbox. feel free to use my inbox for any questions or comments though :)

SOLD: the geordi collage

[centrally-unplanned]

I watched the Scott Pilgrim anime! I was deeply ambivalent, which I am sure is a shock to no one who knows me and saw it lol. I think I have a sequence of thoughts, so I will tackle the obvious one first to get it out of the way: Marketing, Adaptation, & Genre Drift in Scott Pilgrim Takes Off

Starting from top, if you don’t know, the Scott Pilgrim anime is not an adaptation of the original source material, but an alternate history version of the events where the titular Scott isn’t present for the majority of the episodes and Ramona Flowers is the main character. Which has been controversial! Not…amazingly controversial or anything, this is an extremely low stakes scenario and from my analysis the majority of people liked it. But controversial enough to get insufferable Kotaku articles “explaining the backlash” which don’t explain the backlash well. Let me see if I can do a better job - its fun to set low bars for yourself to clear after all.

The backlash starts with the marketing; really just the professional drama-trolls would have objected beyond an initial reaction to Netflix announcing Ramona Flowers vs the World; as a concept it makes a ton of sense, and it is essentially what they actually did (well, we will get into that). But that is not how it was sold:

“Join Scott in his fight for love, life, and rock!” I’d love to, still waiting for the invite! This is the first teaser for the show, and if you do a quick “frame count” it pretty equally privileges Scott & Ramona both, but Scott is still on top and it deliberately hides any sense that it is an alternate timeline. It even has this screenshot as one of its final moments:

Which I am pretty sure does not appear in the actual anime! If it does its in some flashback alt-timeline scene in a later episode, not its implied context (in the actual episode Scott ‘loses’ this fight). I can show more evidence - casting the original cast of the movie to make it seem like a ‘recreation’, statements by O’Malley where he plays deliberately coy with the idea of how similar it's going to be, and so on - but I think I don’t have to, because it was intentional, you don’t have to read the tea leaves on this. The bait-and-switch is part of the marketing, not an accident from it.

That is the step 1: people are thrown about being deceived. The step 2 is simple - this is a deception about an adaptation. I am someone who constantly complains about shows sacrificing cohesion & storytelling for “the twist”, but its too common these days to be that mad over it in a mass way. My designated punching bag over at Kotaku points this out:

This is a recurring theme for metatextual work like Final Fantasy VII Remake and the Rebuild of Evangelion films: initially they’re presented as retellings of beloved stories, only for it to become clear at some later point that they’re going to take more than a few liberties and tell a different story entirely.

The difference here is that FFVII and Evangelion are remakes, not adaptations. FFVII is a video game being made into a video game again; Evangelion is a tv show + movie being made into a movie series. The FFVII decision was controversial, but fundamentally you can just go back and play the original game; fucking everyone hated the idea of the Evangelion rebuilds being remakes because that is pointless, the originals have aged amazingly, and they had to deviate to justify their existence (they failed at that, but a story for another time). Meanwhile, Scott Pilgrim is a comic, that has never been a TV series, or an anime. There is the movie, but did you know a bunch of comic fans hate the movie? You see a lot of comments like these all the time (from a discourse reddit thread debating the new show):

Personally, I thought it was fun. I agree with a lot of your complaints honestly, but I don’t understand how you liked the movie? I can’t stand the movie because I feel like the characters are all flat, especially Ramona who has absolutely no personality at all.

I disagree btw, the movie is great, but it is a loose adaptation - hell it was released before the final volume of the graphic novels was finished, it has a different ending! A short, cohesive movie could never adapt a long-form, episodic graphic novel. And its live action, stylistically very different. So this TV show was both branded as, and was expected to fulfill a demand for, a first “real” adaptation of the comic, that people wanted. The fact that Evangelion deviated in its remake is a poor comparison. Questioning that people want full adaptations of works they enjoy isn’t really worth our time.

Now I personally don’t care about the above two - I am explaining the debate, but they aren’t problems for me. Step 3 is where I start caring - I think Ramona Flowers vs the World is a great idea. They thought they made that, and I wish they had. But in the process of telling the bait-and-switch of the story, they also bait-and-switched the genre. There is this great quote from O’Malley about the original graphic novel’s story from an interview (whose headline we will revisit in another post, don’t you worry):

Yeah, I mean, when I was writing Scott Pilgrim the first time, I just wanted to come up with a very simple story engine: fight, fight, fight, get to the end. That gave me something to hang all this other stuff on, all this slice of life hanging out in Toronto.

Its such a nice summation of what Scott Pilgrim is - the fighting against the evil exes? Its all sizzle and jokes, none of it matters. Its a plot device to structure the real story, which is a slice-of-life romance drama, coming-of-age narrative, and extremely intimate portrait of Toronto’s scene of indie music venues and hipster coffee shops. The joke is that Scott is dealing with all this crazy video game/anime shenanigans on top of actually having to navigate very grounded past emotional damage and present challenges of adulthood. The heart of the comic is not the fight scenes, some of which literally happen in the background while other characters are talking, but scenes of a group of friends hanging out at 11:00 PM at a dive Korean restaurant:

Scott Pilgrim Takes Off meanwhile is not built around this cast. Its built around a mystery plot and Ramona Flower’s evil exes, who she is investigating, and Scott Pilgrim, uh, checks notes travelling to the future and fighting his …aged enraged alternate self from the original timeline…? Anyway, Ramona’s evil exes are mainly joke characters, comic reliefs who engage in crazy shenanigans. Half of the episodes are structured around them, and their episodes are filled with extended comedy bits and very-long fight scenes. Episode two has a 13 minutes long fight scene between two of them, including build-up, over control of the League of Evil Exes. Hell, they don’t even live in Toronto - a ton of the new anime takes place in New York City and a bit in California. The comic meanwhile has panels just…explaining locations in Toronto sometimes:

Listing the hours of operation, its so cute! The anime has no time for this in between its sci-fi plots and fight scenes, and its far cheaper for it.

The decision to focus on shallow characters like Ramona’s exes is downstream of the decision to focus on Ramona without Scott -besides the exes the rest of the characters are Scott’s friends, who Ramona gets to know through him. Which is the final point here - who are the characters people love from Scott Pilgrim?

All of Scott’s friends ofc. Characters like Lucas Lee are memes, not people. Obviously Kim Pine, Young Neil, Knives Chau and so on appear in the anime. Sometimes they have great scenes - like the adorable scene of Knives & Kim playing music together, Knives’s first time really trying to jam:

Which goes absolutely nowhere from a character perspective - Knives & Kim barely interact after this. It sets up Knives doing a comedy-meta musical for the plot, sure…but that’s boring in comparison to real emotional connections, Knives doesn't have an arc. But they can’t have more, because our main character Ramona Flowers doesn’t know these people; she wouldn’t just hang out with them, and she is busy with her mystery investigation. She sees them when she needs them for plot reasons. Kim and Knives and Stephen Stills are much flatter this time around (Julie, to her credit, kicks ass in this one).

Obviously I could point out that Scott & Ramona’s relationship in the anime, given that they have literally one date before Scott vanishes, has no depth to it, but that is easy. The funniest way to summarize this character issue is if you check the tags on Tumblr right now, you are going to be awash in Scott/Wallace shipping posts. Like I swear, at times its straight(?)-up 50% of the posts going on, its a rabid gay horde out there lusting for this sugar daddy/baby dynamic. Which makes sense, they have so much sexual tension & emotional depth as friends…in the comic. In the anime they barely know each other! Wallace hates Scott and interacts with him maybe a half dozen times, primarily to tell him to move out, then does his own shit. This is all people projecting comic!Scott/Wallace onto the current show.

There are more downstream consequences of these decisions & other issues (like the overdone meta elements, or abandoning most of the indie-music aesthetic) but this has gone on long enough. The point is that telling a different version of the story would actually be fine. It would disappoint some fans, sure, but if done well you would likely win them around. Hell, the original comic’s ending kind of sucks, good time to polish some things. But if you change the main character and the genre and the cast focus and all the character dynamics…at a certain point its just its own new story now. A story irrevocably tied to the old one, but not about any of the things the old one cared about. I think you can see why that would be a harder sell than Ramona Flowers vs the World, even if it was a good zany action comedy anime in its own right. You will get backlash from this level of drift - and you will deserve it.

Also fuck Lisa am I right? Jeez, 0 out of 2 for moving picture adaptations. What you get for being blonde I guess.

[dora-papp]

It's been six months since I was threatened to get spat on. Back in June 2023, after they started fining booksellers because of the child protection law changes in Hungary, I got a call from my publisher about having to choose another category for three of my YA novels - those that have LGBT side characters in them, therefore could not be sold to anyone under 18 anymore. I remember that day very clearly. I remember the moment the decision was born in my head that I'm not going to stay silent about this. Yes, I could have just easily said to my readers: "Lovelies, from now on please find these three books on another shelf in bookstores, thanks, bye." But that's not me. I owed an explanation to my readers. I also knew that soon the shitshow was going to come down on all of us, meaning many Hungarian authors, booksellers, publishers, readers. Everyone was going to be furious, but nothing could be done. Hungary - the country without consequences, as we call it.

So I opened my mouth and started to speak on TikTok, on Insta, on Twitter, on Facebook. And with the tremendous amount of love and support, the trolls came too. And it's one thing when someone with no profile picture says that I should be glad that my "sex books" were even allowed to be in bookshops till then, and a whole another thing when someone flat out comments they will spit on me at my next public book signing - which was coming up in Budapest, the biggest one of the year, the most important one for Hungarian authors, on the Book Week.

So for the first time in my career, I had to have security guards while signing my books for my amazing readers. And what happened? I'll tell you what happened. The longest signing event of my career, almost three hours. Countless smiles and stories from supportive readers, photos, gifts, even tears. One of the best days of my life. And all this without that coward troll who threatened me. We won that day. It's been six months. Fines for booksellers, fear, plastic wraps on LGBT YA books - even if there's only one gay side character in the story, like in the case of my book Tükörlelkek. I'd love to say that the law is not affecting my creative energies, but that's just not true. I thought I was over this trauma - the craze, the interviews and the harrassment from June. And this is just me. All of Hungary's literature and bookish people are affected, if you ask me. I don't really see the light at the end of the tunnel yet, but telling this story now could be a start.

[copperbadge]

We recently got into a discussion of producing audiobooks for small press, indy, and/or selfpub authors on another post, but we had strayed pretty far from the original post, and @genedoucette very kindly gave permission for me to slice his comment off the end of that post and put it into a new one.

genedoucette

I have been very, very lucky when it comes to audiobooks, so I'm hesitant to offer advice without adding a huge YMMV caveat at the top. For most of my self-published novels, I used ACX and paid a narrator out-of-pocket (rather than 50-50 proceeds split), which just means I'm paying an agreed-upon X dollars per finished hour, prior to making any money off f the audio editon. Every book I did this with paid for itself, sometimes within the first two or three months, sometimes longer. (YMMV: I did a lot of this during what I would call the audiobook bubble, when demand was higher than supply.) I had another novel series--Tandemstar--that I brought to an audiobook company, who brought it to their distributor, who agreed to pay for the production costs of the book and to pay me a (small) advance. To date, the royalties from that series have not made up the cost of the advance, but the good news was that none of the production costs came from my pocket and the advance meant I did make something out of the deal. The rule-of-thumb I always heard was, don't expect books that haven't sold well to sell any better as audiobooks. But my experience, with ACX/Audible, is this: about 50% of my monthly earning come from audio sales. How long is the book in question (word count), and what is the genre? Because it is absolutely possible to get a not-terrible narrator at a not-terrible cost on ACX. If it's a low word count book with a decent sales record, I'd 100% do it. If it's a high word count book with few sales, maybe not.

Thanks so much for this! I am admittedly always suspicious of Amazon writ large, but it's not like I've never partnered with them before, and often for indy authors they're one of a very few games in town.

50% of sales via audio impresses me a lot -- I'm not really in the industry so my sense of scale may be off but my eyebrows went up at that. And looking at ACX, a split-profits model would be appealing. I'm more interested in providing the reader with more options than I am with making royalties, so I don't mind low payout, but I also don't want to exploit a narrator if I can avoid it.

I doubt I'm selling near the level you are, but it's pretty consistent, at least -- for the last literary novel I published in 2021, and for the four genre romances published in the past year-and-change, it's generally 200-250 copies (epub and paperback) in the first 6 months, and about 40 per year after that. None of them are over 100K words -- the first of the romance novels, the one I'd be most likely to have done as an audiobook to trial, is around 50K, and the other books are all between 60K and 90K or so.

There's some fine print I'm not nuts about -- exclusivity to Amazon/Audible/iTunes for example -- but I can see why it's a necessary business model for them. There's not a ton of clarity on cost per hour for a book, but it looks like for a flat fee it starts around $250 per finished hour? So I'd probably be looking at minimum $1K out of pocket, which is probably roughly (I haven't done the math) royalties per book for a full year. It could be fun to give it a swing regardless, although reading the ACX site made me realize I'd actually have to give notes and feedback to a reader which sounds nervewracking.

It looks like the readers for ACX are repped by SAG-AFTRA, which means that for now I have time to consider while the strike is going on. (Obviously not all of them are union but if it's an entertainment format where the union is involved, I don't want to cross the picket.) And the ACX site is pretty comprehensive in terms of figuring out how it all works, so if I did want to source a narrator elsewhere and perhaps not distribute exclusively through ACX, I now have a grounding from which to research other options too.

Sorry, a lot of this is just me thinking aloud, but I truly do appreciate the info and also something to bounce off of in terms of considering it. And I appreciate the opportunity to share it with my readership too, thank you!

[lesuccube]

➚ 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 : ᴊᴀᴋᴇ ʟᴏᴄᴋʟᴇʏ — ꜱᴀɴᴄᴛᴜᴀʀʏ

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 — three shots fired : two to the body , one through the heart .

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 — angst bug , mild dark trojan [ read at your own risk ! ]

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 — not beta'd , constructive criticism is welcomed . reblogs and comments are appreciated .

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 — 4.1k

my demons are begging me to open up my mouth

i need them, mechanically make the words come out

they fight me, vigorous and angry, watch them pounce

ignite me, licking up the flames they bring about

jake lockley was a simple man. or at least that's what he likes to think. he was created by marc's subconscious to protect him from distress and physical harm. that was his reason for existence. nothing more, nothing less.

but the reality was that he was a broken man, much like his alters steven and marc. he was born from abuse, like steven, and his sole purpose was to shield that little boy from the horrors of his mother's pain. he shares a body with two others, needing to hide in the shadows because they absolutely cannot know about his existence nor the blood in his hands when marc's have been stained red enough that his conscience can't wash it all away.

he did not need to place the burdens he carries to his brothers, he was their protector and if staying in the dark and letting them be oblivious to his presence was the only way to protect them, then so be it.

jake was the one who took the hits for them, used his fist on those that dared try and harm the body, pounding the offender's face over and over until their face was black and blue and unrecognizable. even if it meant the boys would wake up to split skin on his knuckles. jake lockley is the system's protector, nothing is going to change that.

i sold my soul to a three-piece

and he told me i was holy

he's got me down on both knees

but it's the devil that's tryna

when marc became moon knight, jake briefly took over the body and had confronted the 7 foot tall skeletal bird known as khonshu, the egyptian god of the moon and the night sky. he sees all and knows all despite being unknown by the other two.

at first he demands khonshu to release marc from their agreement knowing it will lead to more danger and marc, the original, cannot be harmed. he tried hard to fight for marc's freedom much to the god's entertainment before striking another deal with jake.

on the day marc gains his freedom from being khonshu's avatar, he shall take his place instead. why look for another avatar when there's a completely different person residing in marc's body that marc (and steven) is unaware of?

but jake? jake had other plans. he told khonshu he'll be his avatar then and there, to let him take on the bloodier and brutal missions to spare marc any more bodies in his hands. he'll take them for him instead. this, of course, amuses khonshu who promptly agreed. their body was never going to be free from his clutches and the egyptian deity was going to take full advantage of the man's brokenness to do his bidding.

hold me down, hold me down

sneaking out the back door, make no sound

knock me out, knock me out

saying that i want more, this is what i live for

the job was easy for jake. he's used to a life of violence, letting his fists do the talking to get the answers he needed. he fought until his body held a constellation of bruises that don't easily fade away because he doesn't want to wear the ceremonial suit like marc.

instead he prefers his usual clothes consisting of his signature flat cap, a jacket, a white dress shirt underneath with a black tie done neatly, pressed trousers and black belt and some nice leather shoes.

what he did accept from khonshu was a pair of leather gloves, the knuckles of them designed with a faded crescent moon, to symbolize that he was doing the egyptian god's dirty (well, dirtier) work.

jake doesn't front often, only coming out when its necessary or when his brothers are sound asleep. some days he'd wake up in steven's warm flat, other times it's in that godawful tiny storage room marc uses. either way, he'd get up in the dead of the night, taking control of the body in what little time he has before letting it rest, relinquishing control to the other two once more when the sun begins to peek over the horizon.

hold me down, hold me down

throw me in the deep end, watch me drown

knock me out, knock me out

saying that i want more, this is what i live for

most missions that jake partakes in are always the same. it's either a weasley person trying their hardest to evade getting caught by this mysterious person that's dwindling the numbers of their group or a particularly difficult man to put down. on cases like the latter, jake would use a gun or dagger. if his fists can't take them down, these things surely will.

it's gruesome to say the least, the way he can only come out when he's required to by his duty as khonshu's avatar or when marc faces imminent danger. he never needed to take control over steven because the brit wasn't in any danger working at the museum.

the only time he took over steven was to ask that one coworker of his out for steak. shame she thought it was steven, but he can't exactly give himself away in steven's workplace. poor man didn't need any more confusion and mess when he's already on his boss' bad side. steven didn't need jake to add another reason to her ever growing list to hate him.

selfish, taking what I want and call it mine

i'm helpless, clinging to a little bit of spine

they rush me, telling me I'm running out of time

they shush me (sssh), walking me across a fragile line

the only time jake gets to front for a long time, say two days, is when the system is exhausted. if marc pushed himself too hard or steven tried staying up all night again, jake gets absolute freedom for a few days.

he works as a cabbie, it's a method he uses to lure the poor victims on khonshu's hit list. one day, the door to his cab opens, to lo and behold, beautiful, innocent you.

jake never believed in love at first sight, he thinks it's cringe and stupid but you, oh you just proved him wrong.

dressed in a simple yellow sundress and white cardigan to maintain decency, you were a pop of color amongst london's gray streets and brick walls. you looked like sunshine after the rain personified.

you greeted him with a smile, telling him where you were headed, a psychiatric hospital near the general hospital. he was never one to make small talk with his innocent customers, until you. you who made jake break nearly every rule he's told himself since he cannot front for long periods of time. but you? oh he had quite the fun talking to you.

on the short trip it took to take you there, he had managed to learn that you work there as a permanent staff. he also learned of your name, testing the way it rolls off his tongue and ended up sounding like music to his ears. you gladly indulged his questions, a naturally friendly person, he notes to himself as he listens to you talk in his backseat, occasionally watching you through his rearview mirror.

it's another thing he finds out he likes about you but he can't help but worry if people would dare try and take advantage of you with your sweet smiles and lovely personality. jake shouldn't really bother himself with such thoughts but he found it hard to resist, not when it comes to you he realizes.

i sold my soul to a three-piece

and he told me i was holy

he's got me down on both knees

but it's the devil that's tryna

khonshu knows about jake's new fascination with you. he'd often remind the man to forget about you, that you'd be nothing but a mere distraction to the higher purpose he's taken jake in.

on the rare times jake fronts in broad daylight, he would wait for your morning shift to end, parked outside the psychiatric hospital's door, leaning against his car with a cigarette lit and between his lips, the nicotine burning warmth into his lungs as he puffs out the smoke to london's every chilly air.

you'd come out of the doors mere minutes later in your casual clothes, the colors making your eyes stand out more as you smile and wave at him, bounding towards him with a giggle. he'd put out his cigarette, stomp it with the sole of his shoe before opening his arms to a welcoming embrace.

more often than not he'd lead you to his car with an arm slung over your shoulders, getting as close as he can amd enveloping himself in your floral and nectarine scent. he likes how your perfume lingers on the fabric of his jacket sometimes, it makes him feel like you're still with him even if he dropped you home hours ago.

jake began to pick you up more often on the two months marc and steven's worlds began to collide. he took advantage of marc's grief of the loss of his mother and steven's apparent confusion of missing days in his work.

he used those two months to build the relationship he has with you now, still platonic but there was definitely something more. if your lingering touches and flirty quips were anything to prove.

so he waits for you in the cold london air during the end of your shifts, sometimes even takes you to work when your night shift starts if he has the chance, and you'd always greet him with a smile and wave.

one time though, khonshu decided he's had enough of jake's silly little crush on you. it's past 7 in the morning, jake's driving you home and you were sat in the back and talking his ear off about the things that happened during your shift. he'd laugh and make a comment or two but he's more focused on driving, choosing to enjoy the sound of your voice as he does so. but the god has other plans.

he materializes himself, seated next to your oblivious self, just within jake's peripheral in the rearview mirror. the sight of the skeletal bird next to you has him tightening his hold on the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were definitely white under the leather gloves he wore.

he hates seeing the god next to you, his tall and boney form too undeserving of your sunshine and warmth, not that khonshu wanted either of those.

"i told you to stop meeting this woman jake." khonshu reminds him, to which he only responds with a clench of his jaw, "¡no te atrevas a tocarla!" he grumbles under his breath. "what was that jake?" you ask, curious and innocent to the 7 foot tall god next to you threatening him about you.

"do you really think she'll still love you, no— like you once she finds out who you really are?" the egyptian deity goads, thumping his staff on his car's floor.

"¡cállate, maldito pájaro!" he cusses out, a little harsher, a little louder this time. it makes your brows furrow, moving to the edge of your seat as you place a hand on the back of his seat on the driver's side.

"no, really jake... are you okay?" you were concerned for him, which warms his heart but does not ease the foreboding feeling of fear that he was about to lose you. he fights himself not to think about it right now, not while you are still around.

"estoy bien, neña. no te preocupes." you were glad to have taken your spanish classes in highschool seriously, often mingling with patients in the hospital who also spoke the language. "if you say so. but! if you need a friend to talk to, i'm always here for you."

of course, that's the type of person you were. kind, caring, to jake you were the most precious person there is in his otherwise bleak life. like a soft patch of grass and wildflowers in the otherwise dry land he calls life.

"por supuesto, cariño. ahora siéntate bien, no puedes lastimarte de alguna manera." he smiles, not wanting to worry you any further.

khonshu slams his scepter down once more, the echo loud in jake's ears as the threat of the god's words loom over him like his skeletal shadow before fading out of sight.

"stop this jake, while i am letting you or else i will do it for you."

hold me down, hold me down

sneaking out the back door, make no sound

knock me out, knock me out

saying that i want more, this is what i live for

he would never allow khonshu to get his hands on you. he may be the god he serves but he wasn't going to let him dictate his life. though deep down jake knew better than to go against him because he would never want you to get hurt. especially because of him. and if disappearing quietly from your life is what keeps you out of harm's way, then so be it.

it's been two weeks since jake last picked you up. he's avoided fronting as much as he could, only coming out whenever he's called in the middle of the night.

you thought he was just busy. he was a cabbie after all, he had other people to pick up and bring to their destinations. he won't always be available to take you home. doesn't mean you didn't miss him though. jake has made a small home in your heart, driving his way into your life and permanently parking himself there, a spot dedicated to jake and only jake.

he was the highlight of your day whenever he would come around the psych hospital, all the fatigue and weariness easing off your bones once he'd sling his arm around you.

so these past two weeks, your heart quietly sinks when you don't see his cab parked just outside the doors of the hospital, a cold puff of air greeting you instead of jake's warm embrace as he meets you, smelling of cigarette and leather and musk. you'd end your shift a little disheartened as you hail a cab to bring you home, always secretly hoping it was jake who would stop and take you in.

hold me down, hold me down

throw me in the deep end, watch me drown

knock me out, knock me out

saying that i want more, this is what i live for

jake missed you as well in those two weeks, terribly so. it felt like hell being in the dark corner's of steven and marc's consciousness where he'd wonder how you were doing, if you were okay. if you missed him like he missed you. you did, but he didn't know. couldn't know because of the risk he knows he'll put you under if he fronts to meet you.

it's half past two in the morning when he's able to grab hold of the body, his movements sluggish because none of them were getting enough rest with marc drinking his memories away when khonshu wasn't sending him off to places, steven would stay up late just to catch himself and keep himself from doing god knows what in his sleep and jake, who'd take control of their shared body at the wee hours of the night, barely an hour of sleep in their system but does he care right now? no. why? because two weeks of being away from you was hell and he won't stand another second of not being in your presence.

so he throws the sheets off their body, puts on more presentable clothes from steven's wardrobe since he was the one fronting during the day these past weeks. he found a simple gray sweatshirt and hoodie, exchanged his pajama pants for a pair of jeans and protected his feet with a pair of old sneakers the brit rarely wears.

after that he takes his time to walk to you, not caring if it would take him a while. he'd use this time to think carefully about what to say to you if he manages to even catch your attention while you work. or maybe you'd be on a quick break? he hopes so.

hold me down now

hold me down now

hold me down

jake was so absorbed in his thoughts he didn't realize he was already at the hospital had it not been for your hands holding his shoulders. "jake?" came your voice, soft culverts coming out in a whisper that rings so loudly and lovely in his ears in the silence of london's empty streets. he snaps out of his trance upon hearing your voice, so sweet and kind.

wordlessly, he pulls you in an embrace, not caring at the moment if khonshu was watching his every movement, he just wanted to be as close to you as possible. at first you were surprised, unsure on whether or not to reciprocate but in the end you do.

how could you not when your heart misses him so? even if he smelled different, like old books and clean linens, there was a scent you'd recognize anywhere that belongs solely to jake.

with your arms wrapped around his form, holding his body against yours as you breathe him in. he was real and he was holding you. it soothes the yearning that settled in your body in an instant. he was real and he felt like a safety net, anchoring you back to shore, rescuing you just in time to pull you back above waters before you sink into a sea of emotional turmoil.

that night in each other's embrace, you both felt like you'd come home after a long and exhausting day of being so far apart from each other. in that silence, you had both found solace and understanding where you stood in each other's lives. he was special to you as you were to him. jake had put up a delicate white fence over the luscious green grass and blooming flowers you had planted in his heart, his own garden in his desert he calls life. you were his oasis.

i sold my soul to a three-piece

and he told me I was holy

he's got me down on both knees

but it's the devil that's tryna

after that visit, jake slips away from your grasp again. steven and marc had found themselves in cairo, quietly lending them a hand when it mattered, saving them when their life began teetering close to the edge and quietly returning to his corner. they didn't need to know about him. not yet, not while his hands remain bloody and his ledger dripping red like waterfalls.

he helped marc amd steven out of sticky situations, even saving layla a few times as well. he thinks it's nice that marc had found a safe haven of his own with the woman but jake can't help but feel a little angry and jealous because he can't have you that way. not when they share the same body and face. so he took that bubbling anger out on the poor soul that had tried to hurt him, knuckles bloody and raw from punching so their face it's almost unrecognizable with all the blood pouring from their head to their mouth.

even though he was helping the two out in stopping an ancient god from killing off millions of people, jake's selfishness can't help but think of you during your time apart. he misses you even more now, he realizes. he wonders if he'll be able to see you again after this.

hold me down, hold me down

sneaking out the back door, make no sound

knock me out, knock me out

saying that i want more, this is what i live for

jake was proud of marc from his hidden corner of their consciousness when he refused to kill harrow, against khonshu's orders. he felt happy that his brother no longer had to stain his hands any redder than they should. but deep down jake knew he would be the one to end it all. after all, he is their protector (and with his affections for you, that extended to you as well).

he knew that khonshu would call for him one day soon to finish what marc cannot, for he is, after all, the one that carries the burden of dirtying his hands for them.

that was the deal he had bargained for his brother/s after all.

hold me down, hold me down

throw me in the deep end, watch me drown

knock me out, knock me out

saying that i want more, this is what i live for

jake finds himself in front of your hospital one afternoon when they returned from their duty in egypt. harrow was sent here, an idea he had left in marc's subconscious. in reality, it was just so he'd be able to see a glimpse of you.

selfish as it was, he thinks it's the only way he can see you again. he takes hold of harrow's wheelchair from a nurse, telling her in spanish that he was there for him. she had seemed to understand and let him be, moving on to a different patient to care for.

jake walks down the halls of the hospital, hoping to see even the faintest glimpse of your bright smile but to no avail. what he doesn't know though, was that you had seen him first, unsure in the beginning but you saw his signature cap and gloves and you knew for sure your eyes weren't playing tricks on you.

he was back and he was taking one of the patients admitted at the ward? throughout the time he's picked you up and took you home, he's never said anything about knowing someone in here. you followed him silently, asking one of your co-workers to cover for you a bit.

you see him take arthur harrow inside a limo you didn't know he drove, kicking the wheelchair with such anger it makes you pause in your steps just a little ways from the exit. you see him enter the driver's side, windows rolled up and slams the door shut, you took that as cue to make your way out. you approach the limo with hesitant steps, about to knock on the tinted windows when you see two flashes of light from inside the car, the muffled sound of a gun ringing so loud it has you gasping, snatching your hand back before it lands on the glass.

jake did what he had to, he sought justice to the death their body suffered from when harrow shot them within the dig site where steven discovered ammit's ushabti. it was time to repay the favor, he had shot them twice so he thought it was only fair to do the same. though this time, arthur harrow won't have the same chance to return to the land of the living the way marc and steven did. he had to atone for his sins, there was no redemption for arthur harrow.

but he hears something outside his limo, makes him roll his windows down just a tiny bit only to see your shaken form right outside, fear and shock evident in your features; from the way you held your hands, holding yourself as you took some steps back and away from the white vehicle. jake knew right there and then that he had scared you away, that he might have just lost you. the god in his backseat remained quiet, his presence like a foreboding shadow.

"i told you to stop seeing her didn't i jake lockley? did you really think she'll accept the life you live, the blood staining your hands?"

a part of jake knew that the tall bird was correct but he didn't want to accept it, he couldn't— wouldn't believe it. he loves you and he knows you do too, if that one late night visit says anything about how you two felt about each other. but the longer he stared at your scared form, the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes, the more jake began to realize he had to get away.

yes marc didn't deserve to know about the red on his hands...

translations:

¡no te atrevas a tocarla! — don't you fucking dare touch her

estoy bien, nena. no te preocupes. — i'm fine baby. don't worry.

por supuesto, cariño. ahora siéntate bien, no puedes lastimarte de alguna manera. — of course sweetheart. now sit properly, can't have you injuring yourself somehow.

[wolfnesta]

I’ve sort of stopped posting rant peices because meh I feel like everything that’s needed to be said has been said but I just kind of caught myself analyzing SJM’s writing after my reread of the Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes and it led me to a comparison that somewhat allowed me to pin point why I just couldn’t really get into Feyre’s character. This is not anti Feyre before people get carried away but I do suggest you ignore this post if you’re a diehard fan even if it’s mostly an SJM critique.

For context during my first read of acotar I was a hardcore Hunger Games fan (the books because I loathe the movies). I’m talking obsessed since even before Mockingjay, the book, came out. And so Feyre somewhat gave me Katniss vibes with the whole bow and arrow/hunting theme but I say somewhat because the whole theme was ditched after the first few pages of acotar. Which isn’t a problem I mean they’re two different characters, two different stories, two different genres. (Note: absolutely no one can compare to Katniss. Additionally, Sarah can’t compare to Suzanne. But that’s just me) So the reason I still chose to do this comparison is because it sort of helped me understand why I could obsess over one character but reject the other when they hold similar traits. I think the best way I could describe it is from the beginning Suzanne Collins created a distinction between the protagonist and the situation which is so important because this allows the reader to understand details of characters surrounding Katniss and her demise while also understanding the responses she has to them as her own character. Maybe a bit confusing so let me give an example. It is explained why certain characters play a hand in Katniss’s demise like her mother, the tributes, her mentors etc very clearly, as in, we can grasp all the tragedies of their own while also understanding Katniss’s response to them separate than the readers eg. Katniss never being able to forgive her mother’s neglect at the same time that the reader understands the mother had untreated depression, the Careers trying to kill her with malicious intent but also understanding they’re basically puppets of the Capitol, Haymitch being a detoriating alcoholic she finds culpable for the lack of District winners but also knowing it’s his only way to cope with his ptsd. Anything about those characters after that is character development from what was already clearly established, more examples: the reveal of Finnick Odair’s promiscuity then learning he was being sold for sex, realizing Johanna’s lack of self preservation is because everyone she loved was murdered, and basically the whole entire book for President Snow’s character in The Balllad of Songbirds and Snakes which wasn’t even a redemption story it was just— 🤌

Whereas Sarah decides to bring up things at random when readers are suppose to have already made up their minds about Feyre’s demise. Cue in Tamlin going from having decent qualities to sudden complete douche, Nesta’s spiteful comments to suddenly she’ll save her, Lucien being a friend to suddenly he’s in debted to her, heck even —no especially Rhys’s ‘did bad things but turns out they were all for the greater good’ characterization throughout the books and everything he does is fine because of it. Because SJM uses Feyre as a way to make the readers believe how bad/good so and so is vs Suzanne who uses Katniss to provide to readers how Katniss believe’s so and so is. Then the way Sarah throws vague cryptic things to make characters seem traumatized which I’d go as far as to say is cringe borderline disrespectful the way they seem to be presented just for ‘aesthetic’ purposes instead of the very real things those topics entail (I’m looking at you Nesta’s SA plus others) but that’s another topic, I’m derailing.

Which is why I will definitely always say that from the very beginning of acotar the whole Elain and Nesta constituting Feyre’s wicked family trope fell extremely flat to me. Like I was completely unbothered— I couldn’t even bring myself to dislike them because it felt almost too obvious the way they were written plus the lack of explanation as to why?? There is this disconnection because sjm doesn’t clearly explain their behavior until way later which results in just a weird retcon type situation. Not only that but she goes on to build from it giving the sisters more importance in the series.

But whatever, that’s just my opinion. Which I’m sure has been said before in different terms.

Yet still I enjoyed Feyre book 1, although, as I made myself complete the series it seems by acosf she’s almost entirely different except for her self sacrificing qualities that tend to remain in all MC’s. I mean I really don’t think Feyre book 1 or maybe even book 2 would’ve let Rhys get away with that horrid pregnancy trope thing going on but 🤷🏻‍♀️ I’m not the owner of any of these characters so. In the end she’s an okay character to me, she’s a determined, loving person, but I just wouldn’t consider her a fave of mine.

[soleilceirinen]

Renaissance | teacher!Cillian Murphy x fem!Reader - Part 6

Summary: you are an Art History student in your last year at university. Cillian is your teacher. A/N: in this story Cillian is about 20 years older than the reader. Everything happens in an alternative universe where he is not an actor or famous, he doesn't have a wife or kids like in real life. Also, English is not my first language, so sorry for any mistake! Part 5 - Cillian Murphy Masterlist - Part 7

Unlike most people, you liked Mondays. To you, it meant the beginning of a new week, a reset. But this Monday was different and so far, you hated every second of it. 

After your kiss with Cillian last Friday, you decided not to go further that night so he drove you to your flat. Once there, you said goodbye with a bunch of tiny kisses and the promise to talk later but it never happened.

You had spent the weekend staring at your phone, waiting for a reply to the text you had sent him. It just said “Good morning!” and a flushed emoji but he never answered. So, considering his lack of response, you sent him an email with your project progress, to which he didn’t reply either. 

And now, you had been sitting in the classroom for forty minutes while listening to him talk about Margaret of Austria’s portrait collection. Forty minutes in which he didn’t look at your direction at all, as if you were invisible. 

You continued taking notes until the end of the lecture, breaking the paper sheet a couple times due to the pressure with which you were writing. When the other students had left the classroom, you walked to his desk to confront him. 

“Good morning, Cillian.”

He didn’t take his eyes off the papers and books scattered around his desk when he answered you.

“Mr. Murphy is the proper way to address me, miss Y/L/N. Can I help you with something?” 

You looked at him in disbelief. 

“Well, I texted you and you never said anything back, I was worried,” you admitted. He just shrugged dismissively.  

“There’s nothing to worry about. Do you need anything else?”

“Yes, Mr. Murphy,” you said bitterly, “I also sent you a few new pages of the project so you could review them and give me some feedback.”

Cillian sighed and leaned back in his chair.

“I looked over it, it’s okay but be careful with the paragraphs and the structure. If you need something else, my tutoring sessions are Tuesdays at 11 a.m. and Thursdays at 18 p.m., you can find me at my office.” He looked at you briefly, before saying “Have a nice day, miss Y/L/N.” 

You didn't know how to react to his sudden coldness so you frowned and left the classroom with the ghost of tears stinging your eyes.

The rest of the week went by the same way, with Cillian ignoring you and only addressing you to make a comment about your project. As far as you were concerned, you had no idea what could have caused that change in his attitude but it made you feel quite miserable, just to think of what could have been and wasn’t. 

After a long morning of lectures you were finally free to go and have lunch. You and Olivia had met to eat at a Japanese restaurant near the university. Once seated at your table, you noticed that she was quieter than usual. 

“So, how is everything going for you?” you asked. “Are you still seeing that guy, the artist?”

She frowned and shook her head. “No way. At least not after he painted my pussy on a 120 x 160 canvas and displayed it for everyone to see.”

“Well, I can tell you something, it was sold” you comforted her. “By the way, I thought you knew which part of you he was painting.”

Olivia groaned and hid her face in her arms. 

“He never told me, said it was a surprise. His favourite part of me, you know” she added, rolling her big eyes. “But let’s talk about something else, what about you? You look sad.”

You shrugged. “It’s nothing, I’m a bit overwhelmed with my final project but…” You stopped talking when you saw a group of people sit a couple of tables away. 

They were teachers, you realised since some of them had taught you in recent years, plus Cillian was among them. He also noticed your presence, you caught him looking at you but he immediately looked away. Olivia looked at you with half closed eyes and then she turned around to look at the teacher’s table. You grabbed her arm to make her stop.

“Don’t do that!”

“Why not?” she asked suspiciously while you tried to hide the fact that you were starting to blush. 

“That’s my final project tutor” you whispered. “Don’t look!”

Olivia made a face of annoyance at you. “If I can’t look, how am I supposed to know which one is your tutor? I’ll just take a little look, they won’t notice, I promise Y/N”, she assured. 

You nodded slightly, accepting the fact that they would notice anyway. “Okay. It’s the guy with blue eyes.”

After a failed, as expected, attempt to be subtle, Olivia focused again on you leaning on the table so that nobody else but you could hear her. “He’s handsome but he looks like he’s sucking on a lemon.”

You couldn't help but burst out laughing, narrowly avoiding choking on your soda. 

“Olivia!”

She giggled with you, satisfied with herself. 

“At least I made you smile.” 

The rest of the meal was uneventful, just you and Olivia catching up. It had been a long time since you had such a good time with your friend like this but sadly, it had to end. Otherwise, you wouldn’t get on time to work. Olivia led the way to the door, taking the opportunity to look closely at Cillian as she passed their table. You followed her, nodding in his direction as you walked past him. 

“Y/N”

You turned around slowly. Cillian was about to get up from the table, some of the teachers looked at you with curiosity and others with recognition. You smiled at them politely. 

“What is it, Mr. Murphy?”

“I need to talk to you”, he said. You wanted to slap him in the face, right on his stupidly perfect cheekbones. You felt your blood boiling with his audacity after ignoring you for a whole week 

“I’m sure it can wait until Monday, or you can send me an email. It’s very simple but I guess it’s up to you. Goodbye Mr. Murphy, have a nice weekend everyone.”

Later, you were sitting at the art gallery office with your final project opened on your laptop. On calm days like that, you used to take the opportunity and study. Maureen and Laura didn’t care about it. 

A knock on the door made you take your eyes away from the laptop screen. There was Maureen, with her blonde hair tied up in a messy bun while holding a plastic bag. 

“Good afternoon, Y/N. How are you?” 

“I’m fine, everything is quiet here. I was trying to write some more of my research but I think I’ll give up for today. What about you?”

She took a seat next to you and started searching for something in the bag while talking. 

“Don't get saturated, sometimes it is better to let a few days pass and return to the project with more energy and inspiration.”

You nodded in agreement. Then, Maureen took out a small photo album and started flipping through all the pages. 

“We want to make a video for the wedding with photos of us from when we were children and teenagers, you know, until we met. So yesterday I spent all day going through photo albums and came across this, I thought you might like to see it.”

She held a polaroid in front of you. Carefully, you took it and examined it in detail. In a handwriting that you recognised as Maureen’s, it said Summer ‘99. It wasn’t difficult to tell who they were since they looked the same, but younger.

“It’s you and Cillian” you stated. 

“We took that picture the summer after we graduated from university, we were about your age there.”

“So, you and him know each other really well or just as former classmates?” you wondered, still looking at the polaroid. She sighed. 

“We are very close, even though he likes to disappear from time to time.” She took out another picture and gave it to you, putting the other one back in the album. “You can keep that one, since you see Cill more than I do, you should have a chance to give it to him. It could bring back good memories, right?” 

You stared at the polaroid and nodded absentminded. From the corner of your eyes you saw Maureen get up after hearing Laura call her from the gallery, she gave you a little squeeze in the shoulder before disappearing. 

In the photograph was a young Cillian smiling from ear to ear, with messy hair and a sunburnt face, which surely would explain the amount of freckles he had now. Also, the way his eyes crinkled slightly at the corners was still the same, although more accentuated with the years. 

Despite all that had happened, you couldn’t help but feel a certain nostalgia. 

A sound coming from your laptop made you look, there was a new message from Cillian. He wanted to meet you in his office on Monday afternoon. Your answer was concise, just to let him know that you would be there.

Only then you were aware of the knot that had formed in your stomach. You were hoping for things to develop smoothly and go back to normal, as they were before that week. But just like it happened with your roommate Brad, deep inside you had the suspicion that what Cillian had to say wasn't good news.

[elisysd]

Vampire - Olivia Rodrigo

Masterlist - Previously - Next Chapter

The way you sold me for parts As you sunk your teeth into me, oh Bloodsucker, fame fucker Bleedin' me dry like a goddamn vampire

A week later, Charles was cleared to be transferred to Monaco and continue treatment at home. He was happy to leave the hospital at last and try to forget that he wasn't in Mexico battling with the rest of the grid. He wouldn't miss the hospital. He was going to be able to return to the comfort of his bed and his flat. The only downside was that Lyanna wouldn't be joining him for a few days. She had some urgent business to attend to in London. He didn't know much more about it. Of course he had tried to get her to talk, but the young woman always managed to avoid the subject by redirecting his attention elsewhere. After a while, he finally gave up, telling himself that she would talk to him when she was ready to do so.

Lyanna was going to travel back and forth between London and Monaco. She had a meeting with her lawyer to find out how they were going to proceed following James' lawsuit. Her lawyer had told her that he sincerely believed that James barked more than he bit and that he would not go any further.  Although Lyanna was of the same opinion, she preferred to take her precautions and explore all her options so as to be able to fight back. She had just told the truth. But if things got any worse, she knew it would be her word against his.

She hadn't said anything to Charles, he had enough on his plate without her adding to it. And she preferred to forget. Even if it wasn't easy every day. He complained a lot, and needed help with the slightest movement. Lyanna was happy to help him, mainly because it allowed her to forget her problems. She felt useful and busy. She avoided social media like the plague. The one time she had gone on them, she had been surprised to find herself trending, and looking at the comments was a lesson learned.

Finally, the day came for Charles to leave for Monaco. A medical plane had been specially prepared for him. Lyanna had arrived early in the morning to help him get dressed, as Charles refused to let the nurse look after him. He had far too much pride to let strangers see him in a vulnerable state and only felt comfortable with Lyanna.

He tried to argue with the doctor when the latter came to bring him his latest recommendations and a wheelchair so that he could get around. Charles claimed that he didn't need it, that he could stand on his own two feet, but when Lyanna looked at him disapprovingly, he finally complied, on condition that the young actress was the one to push him. He found it humiliating enough as it was, having his girlfriend by his side made things a little easier.

“And remember Mr Leclerc, a lot of rest, taking your medication regularly while following the treatment and I’m sure you’ll be fine in no time.”

“Don’t worry doctor, he has me and his mom who will make sure that he is taken care of.”

Charles grumbled, but when he felt Lyanna's firm hand on his shoulder, he refrained from making any comment.

It was Charles's mother herself who greeted them when they finally arrived. Tears of relief rolled down her cheeks as she was finally able to see her son. Lyanna had planned to step away for a moment to give them some privacy when Pascale approached the young woman and wrapped her in her arms.

“Lyanna, you don’t even imagine how thankful I am for everything you’ve done for Charles. It made me sleep better at night knowing you were there with him. Thank you. So much.”

Lyanna stuttered out a confused "you're welcome", but was nevertheless touched by Pascale's gesture.

"Charles, I hope you don't mind but I've moved into your spare room. I thought it would be easier to help you on a day-to-day basis if I lived with you temporarily. And it would give Lyanna a chance to rest too."

"Are you implying that I'm a handful, Mom?"

"No offence, baby, but you've been a pain in the ass with the nurses. Thank you, Pascale, that's very kind of you. And it helps me leave for London tomorrow with some peace of mind.”

At Charles's, while Lyanna helped him settle into bed with pillows to make him comfortable and ensure his painkillers were taken, Pascale was busy preparing food. As Charles drifted off to sleep, exhausted by the pain and the journey, she slipped away and headed for the kitchen. There, she dropped onto a stool and held her head in her hands. She was exhausted as well which Pascale didn't fail to notice.

“Lya, darling, you’re about to passed out.”

“It’s fine. It’s just all the emotions of the last few days that are catching up to me. I have not had a minute for me in the past week. Always being there for Charles, helping him, reassuring him, trying to distract him… I’m sorry, it’s selfish but I’m relieved you are here, I have finally someone to lean on.”

“It’s not selfish at all. And I’m here for that. Now tell me, how is he? Really. He is always downplaying what he feels when he talks to me. I know he doesn’t want to worry me but he won’t stop me. I don’t think he realizes how scary that accident was. For you or me or his friends and brothers.”

“He tries to be tough and not show he is in pain but it’s pretty obvious. I mean, his ribs are broken. We can’t do anything about it beside waiting for them to repair themselves. And not being able to race is bothering him. He is always on his phone checking the news or calling other drivers and Ferrari staff. He is worried about next season also, I think.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of him. But take care of you too, okay? I think being away from him for a few days will do you some good.”

“It would if London was a fun trip but it’s business related and I have a headache just thinking about it.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” asked Pascale as she stirred the contents of the pan.

Lyanna glanced toward the room as if Charles might emerge at any moment.

“My ex-boyfriend sued me for defamation because of the interview I gave.”

“Little fucker” muttered Pascale. “Sorry. I read the interview; it was very brave from you. You are admirable Lyanna and I have to admit that I misjudged when I first met you.”

“It’s okay. I would have misjudged myself.”

“Does Charles know about the lawsuit?”

“No and I have no intention to tell him. I want to settle it on my own. Telling him will only add stress on him and it’s the last thing he needs.”

Pascale nodded. The two women ate in silence before Pascale forced Lyanna to take a rest, seeing that she could barely stand. Mechanically, Lyanna went down the corridor to Charles's room and was careful not to make too much noise when she opened the door, as she didn't want to wake him. She undressed silently before slipping under the sheets. Charles was fast asleep. She would have liked to be able to snuggle up to him, in the reassuring warmth of his arms, but the last thing she wanted was to hurt him. So she cradled herself at the end of the bed and hugged the blanket, imagining it was her boyfriend's body. Exhausted, it didn't take her long to fall asleep.

At around 2am, she felt Charles' body tens up and heard annoyed sighs mixed with grunts. Half asleep, she fumbled to turn on the bedside lamp and when she did, she saw Charles trying to get up. She leapt to her feet and put both hands around his shoulders to force him to stay down.

“What are you doing?” she whispered, not wanting to wake Pascale who was sleeping next to their door.

“Nothing. It’s just that, it’s starting to hurt again so I wanted to take a painkiller but I don’t have any water left in the pitcher. I just wanted to go to the kitchen to fill it. I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Don’t move, I’m going.” Lyanna sighed.

She got up from the bed and took the pitcher from Charles’ hands. In the half-light and still a little asleep, Lyanna did not see the corner of the coffee table. She bumped violently against it, dropping the empty pitcher from her hands, and watching it shatter into a thousand pieces on the floor.  

“Shit!”

She tried to extricate herself from the mess she had made, but stepped on a piece of glass, causing her to yelp in pain. The noise woke Pascale, who rushed into the living room. Lyanna had managed to sit down on the sofa and was staring dejectedly at the blood beading from the wound.

“Don’t come any nearer Pascale, it’s full of glass around here.”

Charles's mother didn't listen to her, and after taking a broom from the storage cupboard and clearing away the broken bits, she sat down beside the young woman. She was crying. From pain, exhaustion, anxiety and a whole range of other emotions that she could no longer separate from one another.

“Oh my darling… come here.” Said Pascale while taking her in her arms where Lyanna could finally let her tears go freely.

“I try to be strong Pascale; I really try I promise.”

“I’ve never doubted that, Lyanna. Not one second. It’s okay to cry.”

“I love your son; I really do but I feel like sometimes he doesn’t understand that he made things difficult for me since the crash. I’ve been there for him all day every day and took care of him because he didn’t want anyone else to see him like this. And I did that because I love him. But it was hard and not one time did he ask if it was bothering me or if I was okay. It was like everything revolved around him and his accident. I listened to him complaining about everything, I helped him the best I could. And I did it without hesitation and I would do it again. But… in the meanwhile I did not have the time to process everything that happened. I’m sorry, I don’t make any sense. I’m just so tired.”

“I understand sweetheart. I know it’s different but, when Charles’ dad passed away, I became a whole other person. My sons needed me to be strong for them, they did not need to see me torn apart it would have done no good. I supported them and helped them going through their grief because that’s what as a mother thought I was supposed to do. But who was helping me for my grief? They were too caught up in their pain to see that I was sinking too. I never held that against them. But sometimes all we want is to be seen by the other person and for them to recognize that you are also not okay. What you feel, Lyanna, is not selfish or makes you a bad person. It makes you human. I doesn’t mean that you don’t love Charles.”

On the other side of the room, leaning against the wall and trying as best he could to stand, Charles, alerted by the noise, had heard the whole conversation between Lyanna and his mother.

The next day, Pascale accompanied Lyanna to the airport, without Charles. He wasn't feeling very well and preferred to stay at the flat. When Lyanna had returned to the bedroom, he had pretended to be asleep so as not to have to face her. He had spent the night replaying the conversation he had overheard. He felt guilty. He hadn't realised how hard he'd made life for the world around him. As far as he was concerned, they weren't the ones who'd had an accident and broken bones, they weren't the ones who'd been forced to put their careers on hold for a few weeks, weeks he wouldn't be able to make up for. They weren't the ones suffering most in this situation. He was.

But to hear Lyanna, the person he loved the most, mentally pushed to the limit, partly because of him, had hurt him more than all the broken bones in the world could. So he preferred to let her go alone. He was going to give her some space, he knew she needed it. If not having contact with him would make her feel better, then so be it. He had felt Lyanna come up to him before she left to place a kiss on his cheek and whisper an I love you, and he had had to fight with every fibre in his body screaming at him to hold her back for even a moment to tell her how sorry he was for hurting her.

Pushing open the doors of her London flat gave Lyanna a weird feeling. As if it wasn't really her home anymore. This flat, which she adored and had spent months fine-tuning to make a cosy, reassuring place, now gave her nothing but a feeling of immensity and emptiness.  She almost felt like a stranger there. She felt deep down that she had changed, that her vision of life was no longer the same, that she no longer aspired to the same things as a year ago. She knew that this was at least partly due to Charles. She felt more grounded, more alive. Life had regained some colour and was no longer a perpetual mix of greys. She didn't yet know where all this would lead her, but whatever the outcome, she was grateful that life had put Charles on her path.

Just as she was about to take a shower, she received a text on her phone from an unknown number.

We don't have to go to court, Lyanna. We can settle this like two mature adults. Meet me at this address tomorrow.

She didn't need to ask who it was. The address given was a restaurant she knew well, it was where James had taken her on their first date, where it had all started. It was a posh place in central London and the young woman couldn't help wondering what kind of sick game he was playing. She knew she should talk to her lawyer about it, but he would probably advise her not to go, that it was a trap and could backfire. But he couldn't trick her if she tricked him first, could he?

He was already there when she arrived. At the back of the restaurant, away from prying eyes, at the same table as their first date. He watched her walk through the restaurant and arrive at the table without a word. Nor did he hide the way he gawked at her from head to toe, and Lyanna had to do her best to suppress a shudder of disgust. She sat down and looked him straight in the eye.

“What do you want James?”

“Oh come on Lyanna, let’s have an appetizer before the serious talk.”

He leaned back in his seat to call the waiter.

“I’m not interested in small talk. Say what you need to say so we can get this over with.”

He put down the glass of red wine the waiter had brought him and leaned forward on the table to look Lyanna straight in the eye.

“What I want? Simple Lyanna. Excuses. I’ve got a shit press lately because of you. It’s not fair.”

“I’m not going to say sorry because I’ve told the truth.”

“Truth? What truth, Lyanna? Your truth. You have no proof. You never had. Just assumptions.”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me that the videos and pictures are not from you, that you never had them on your phone.”

He smiled completely unphased.

“What would be the point to admit or not admit it? It’s in the past.”

“Maybe for you but not for me. I just want to know why? Why did you do this to me? You cheated, you were awful during our relationship, it was toxic. But never, never would I have ever thought that you would step that low.”

“You really want to know why? You had always been the one people loved on the show, the little prodigy, the beautiful and innocent Lyanna, little miss perfect. All the attention was on you, at all times. What Lyanna wanted; Lyanna got it. Have you ever thought about what you made us all feel, next to you? Uninterested, untalented. You never knew, you were too busy building your career, planning your next big step. That was all you cared about.”

“That’s not true.”

“Only the truth hurts, Lyanna. We looked good together on screen. It did not surprise anyone when we started to date. I thought that maybe now that I was in your light, opportunities would come at me the same way they were coming at you. But it never happened. It was always you, you, you. So yeah, I was jealous. It was not fair. Why you and not me.”

“So just because of stupid jealousy and rivalry you woke up one day and decided to make my life like hell.”

“Not like hell. You finally got a taste of what me but also the other cast members, our colleagues felt during the shooting of the show. Undesirable. Have you ever taken the time to call them, to talk to them and ask them how they felt. Because I was not the only one who felt that way all those years ago. Everyone did, but I was the only one to have the courage to act. I played you, yes. I made you believe that I loved you. The more you felt on top of the world, the harder I knew the fall would be.”

“So you released those pictures and videos. You knew that I would be deeply impacted by it and that it would follow me for a long time.”

“I never planned to release them. They were supposed to only be for my own entertainment…”

“You are disgusting” se cut him.

“You were not supposed to leave me. I was the one supposed to break you heart to million pieces. It was the plan.”

“So why?”

“I got mad, furious. I couldn't imagine that you'd get away with it and end up looking like the poor little Lyanna, she doesn't deserve that. So yeah, I did the one thing that I knew would crush you. Tainting the innocent and sweet Lyanna was the only way for people to turn their back on you.”

“And what good did it make you? Did you land more roles? No. And you know why James? Because people are able to see how a shitty human being you are. They see right through you.”

“I don’t regret it. I lost everything because your agent made sure that I would never work again. But the thought of knowing that you had the same fate as me, helped me sleep better at night. But now you are back at the top and it’s like those pictures never existed. You almost got an Oscar, you have a shiny toy at your arms with your little Ferrari driver… Speaking of, does he can stand on his own two feet? I have to admit that knowing what happened to him made me believe that there was still a justice out there.”

“Don’t drag him into that. But you know what, he is and will always be a better human than you. He doesn’t make me feel shitty, he loves me, he supports me, he makes me want to be a better person. I don’t wake up in the morning dreading of insults or narky. He is a good man. One you’ll never be. Now, what are we doing here James? What do you want, now?”

“The thing is Lyanna, I won’t ask you to publicly excuse yourself, I would not ask you such a thing.”

“How considerate of you.” She sarcastically said.

“I know, right. However, I’m ready to drop the suit on condition that you pay me some money in return. I have a hard time making ends meet. £500,000 seems a reasonable amount in your case.”

“I don’t earn that amount of money.”

“If you don’t maybe your boyfriend will.”

“So this is what it is about, hum? You can't stand that someone else has me. You're not just after me, you're after Charles too. You can kiss my ass, James. You'll never get a penny from me.”

“See you at the trial then Lyanna.”

“Or not. I recorded this entire conversation and I’m sure that press would be highly interested about it, don’t you think. After all, you know a thing or two about leaking private things, James. Right?”

“You, little cunning bitch.”

“I’ve learned from the best.”

He leapt to his feet, his face flushed with anger, before violently grabbing Lyanna. The young woman tried to resist, but fortunately the noise had attracted the attention of the customers, who didn't hesitate to take photos and videos of the scene. The waiter rushed to her side and forced James to release her, who clutched the table in shock. Realising that he would get nothing out of her, he gave up and stormed off, leaving Lyanna to release her breath. One she was not aware she was holding back.

==========

author's note: What a chapter. So many things, so many things. My sneaky little Lyanna; I love her. James finally got a taste of his own medicine. As usual, I can't wait to have your thoughts about the chapter! taglist: @zendayabelova @purplephantomwolf @ru-kru @dakotali @blueflorals @aundercover @ruleroftheuniverse @fangirlika @writerscurse @elijahmikaelsonbitch @leclerc13 @heeseung-baby

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[the-90s-music-colosseum]

Round 1 Group D Match 8

Propaganda received (wall of text warning):

Chino Moreno:

"His voice alone is enough to send shivers down my kitty cat"

Stephen Malkmus:

"I mean, Pavement is THEE indie band of the 90s. The lowkey snark, Koreaaaa, so much style that it's wasted. And Malkmus is an understated cool rockstar: the hair, the face, Silver Jews! He never ever sold out. He's the 90s."

"the most beautiful man ever he looks like a gorgeous fairytale prince. he has been hot since he emerged on the scene and continues to be so as their reunion tour comes to a close. stephen forever"

"we have to consider the autism swagger. find me a pavement write up that doesn’t spend three paragraphs waxing lyrical on his inability to make eye contact. find me a YouTube comment section that doesn’t have hoards of moms swooning over his flat affect. his refusal to wear anything more formal than a flannel for the first decade of his career? genuinely culturally influential. 30 glorious years of expressionless performances. sunglasses in the dark. so many straight men falling over themselves for him they made a joke about it in the Barbie movie. raw tbh sex appeal. and he’s got a great nose"

"he had a couple of unfortunate haircuts during this period but highkey i would break both of my arms to just be able to make out with him. please vote for SM my life is in danger if you don't"