#It was the subject of romantic plays and you get things like people in antiquity in heated debates over who is the | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shelovescontrol91 · 3 years

Link

Everyone knows the story of Cinderella, whether you grew up with Walt Disney’s 1950 animated film, the Rodgers and Hammerstein television musical, or the European folktale. Still, adapting a beloved story for a new generation means connecting past and present. The cast and crew of 2021’s Cinderella was intent on innovation. The film, which is set to premiere on Amazon Prime on September 3rd, reimagines the story as an uplifting musical about the power of self-discovery.

Unlike her predecessors Camila Cabello’s “Ella” doesn’t aspire to life as a royal, instead she’s busy building a fashion empire. The heroine's shift from dreamer to proactive entrepreneur makes for a different kind of narrative, one the forces behind the project hope will inspire young girls. “It is a completely new telling of the story. I feel like other fairytales have values that are more antiquated and don’t reflect women accurately,” shared Cabello from Los Angeles. “In this Cinderella, she has dreams and ambitions, and she wants to save herself, not have a prince or anybody else save her.”

Given Ella’s goals, much of the modernization is expressed via wardrobe. For costume designer Ellen Mirojnick, telling Ella’s story meant starting from scratch. “With Cinderella you of course think of the blue dress, the glass slipper, etc. but that wasn’t how we were going to approach this story,” she says. “This is a brand new retelling so we wanted to put a twist on it and embrace a new point of view, [one] that promotes female empowerment and individuality.”

Adept at creating jaw dropping costumes for immersive fictional worlds—her costumes for Bridgerton, The Greatest Showman, and Maleficent: Mistress of Evil are characters unto themselves—Mirojnick looked to the soundtrack inspiration. “Everything becomes concrete once you read and listen to the music,”she says. “The songs have fairytale, romantic, and modern aspects and an [overarching] theme about breaking the glass ceiling.” Within Ella’s wardrobe those concepts translate into period looks that feature contemporary touches and pieces that highlight her uniqueness. Still, Mirojnick was careful not to foreshadow Ella’s princess transformation. “From the beginning [of the design process] we took into consideration that her clothes shouldn’t be too obvious,” says Mirojnick. “So you have her in neutral colors, natural fabrics, linens, but with modern touches like her belts.”

The character’s interest in design was key to understanding her motivations. “One of the things I realized is that you have a Cinderella who is [effectively] designing herself,” says Mirojnick. “Ella’s closet is at the center of our film. The costumes capture her spirit, how design empowers her, and how nothing will get her down. Camila, who is one of the most authentic and joyous spirits I’ve met in a long time, embodies this perfectly.” For Cabello, who describes her character’s look as innovative and daring, collaborating with Mirojnick throughout the design process was a dream. “I loved my work costumes! They were so comfortable, but still had Ella’s swag to them,” she says. “Ellen and her team were so passionate, full of joy for what they were doing. They were so in love with Ella and the values she represented. In a time where women’s self expression is so limited, she uses fashion to express herself. Even when she’s dressing for work she has accessories in her hair, and puts unique details in her corsets. I think it shows how much self expression and authenticity is important to her.”

Oscreen Ella, uses the tools at her disposal to create, but she’s still subject to the limitations of being a young, cash-strapped designer. “For the ball she is making her own gown, so we had to hone in on what she would create and what she might have difficulty making,” says Mirojnick. “That is until the Fab G comes along.”

Audiences know Disney’s ‘Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo’-singing, benevolent godmother, but Billy Porter’s Fab G is a completely different take on the magical mentor figure. Porter, with his outré style and endless swagger, needed more than a powder blue cape. So Mirojnick whipped up a gilded gown with reflective shades inspired by butterfly wings. “The Fab G was born from the monarch butterfly,” explains Mirojnick. “I presented a whole series of sketches to Billy. It was important to him that the costume represent both masculine and feminine elements. It all came together in a couple of conversations. I had to take into consideration movement and how the character would emerge onto the scene because it had to be fabulous.” Equally striking are the Fab G’s accessories which run the gamut from a glittery wand, custom Jimmy Choo boots, and a Mercedes Benz carriage that Porter dreamed up with the automaker. “It’s all remarkable,” says Mirojnick. “They truly went all out in creating the design.”

Of course, the ride isn’t as important as the destination. In this case, that would be the party thrown for Nicholas Galitzine’s Prince Robert, in order to find his bride. Ella arrives in a glittering ball gown whipped up by Fab G, but she isn’t the only contender. A host of princesses from across the kingdom show up to meet the royal family and try their luck. In other adaptations this plays out as a Bachelor style spectacle where young women compete against each other for a guy, but director Kay Cannon and Mirojnick wanted to avoid that cliche. “What was most important to us was that this world be global,” says Mirojnick. “Originally we planned on having designers from other countries each contribute a design, but [that] proved too difficult last year. So we went about it our own way with each princess representing their respective nation.” The change also allowed for cameos, like Japanese comedian Naomi Watanabe. “The ball is about bringing the community together,” says Mirojnick “They may be vying for attention but they also support each other.”

While the protagonist isn’t looking to become a princess, the story doesn’t break with tradition entirely. The clothes—which will be revealed to the world during the Mercedes Benz ‘Dressed for a Dream” livestreamed fashion showon August 28th—are the stuff of fantasy. During the show the costumes will be worn on the runway by individuals who embody the progressive messages of the film. Both Cabello and Mirojnick, who serve as Mercedes Benz brand ambassadors for the project, hope that viewers find the movie, fashion show, and subsequent campaign inspiring. “We’re going to have models walking the fashion show who have incredible success stories. They’re our everyday Ellas,” says Mirojnick. “It’s an honor to be able to partner with Mercedes on this [and] at this moment in time where we can celebrate female empowerment and amplify stories that show girls what they’re capable of.”

That sentiment was echoed by Cabello. “[The fashion show] is Ella’s dream come true! I think women seeing other women be strong, ambitious, and supporting each other is so important,” she says. “Helping each other realize our power and celebrating each other taking control of our lives is so important for young people to be watching, and for that to be the world they grow up in.”

#camila cabello #cinderella

5 notes · View notes

rin-the-shadow · 3 years

Text

Crystal Tokyo Challenge: Day 12

Day 12: If Crystal Tokyo never happened, what would the Senshi’s careers be? (Feel free to include the Shitennou in this if you want)

Regarding the Senshi, I tend to assume it’s what they’ve stated their dreams to be over the course of the manga/anime/other versions. I can’t find the article that grouped them all in one place, and it’s been a little while so I may get a few things wrong, and I may take a few liberties, but:

Usagi of course marries Mamoru. I seem to recall a line in the Dream arc of the manga where she mentions wanting to join a manga-drawing club, and while I don’t necessarily see her publishing professionally, I do like the idea that she would do commissions here and there.

Ami becomes a doctor. If Crystal Tokyo didn’t come to be, I don’t know that she would be able to do the same degree of integration of magic and technology in healthcare, but maybe she would still find ways to sneak it in.

Rei takes over the shrine once her grandfather passes it on to her. I seem to recall her having some other things she wanted to do, but at the moment I don’t recall what they were. I’ll have to make a note to edit this post if I remember or if I happen to see the PGSM episode or manga chapter that made me think that (and I do think it was one of those two.)

Makoto gets married and has a big family, and she also owns and works in a flower shop/bakery. I really like the idea that her kids would help out when they get older, too.

Minako probably goes through a few different dreams, including being an idol singer. Later on, she uses the skills she had to pick up in order to do so to run several workshop classes on singing, dancing, acting, and so forth.

Outer Senshi, Mamoru, Shitennou, and Beryl under the cut.

For Setsuna, it depends on if she has to stay at the space-time door or not. But if not, then she goes into nursing and becomes a pediatric nurse. She might have done this in the manga as well, but this headcanon is largely based on the musicals, where she would sometimes take on the role of the school nurse as a cover.

Haruka goes into professional racing, and afterwards does piano. Though I am also opting to hold onto my earlier headcanon that she probably does some kind of after-school sports/racing thing for kids and teens.

Michiru becomes a professional violinist and painter. She continues painting even after she has largely retired from performing. I also still like the idea that she would do some kind of painting classes or music workshops.

I seem to remember reading somewhere that Hotaru wanted to be a nurse, but if this isn’t accurate or if she wasn’t able to for some reason, I could also see her having a small but successful career on the internet reviewing antique lamps.

Chibiusa is admittedly the hardest to answer for this, but I could maybe see her doing something art related. She seemed to like drawing in the first anime. She may also appear as an occasional co-host on Hotaru’s web show, and draws her title cards.

I have a similarly hard time figuring out what Mamoru would do, so if anyone has any headcanons on this subject, I would be happy to hear them! EDIT: A comment I got on this post tossed up the idea that Mamoru might become a social worker. I’d read a few fanfictions after making this which suggested he might go into med school, but I like the idea of him going into some kind of field which would allow him to help kids who went through similar experiences to what he did.

And of course, I will also include the Shitennou.

I like the idea of Zoisite doing coding and game design. I’m not sure why I’ve gotten attached to this headcanon as fast as I have, but it’s stuck. I think he also likes playing piano or dancing (blame PGSM/Casablanda Memories and Reconquista) but I don’t know that he would want to do it professionally.

Kunzite does something around historical research. I could see him working as a museum curator, and writing the descriptions on the exhibits. I feel like there was something else he did in PGSM when he lost his memories, but I don’t remember what that was at the moment, so I’ll make a note to check that episode and update if something is implied or confirmed. While I do have a headcanon that Kunzite has some artistic ability and can in fact draw very well, I don’t think it’s something he would want to do professionally.

Nephrite does so many jobs it loops back around and becomes funny. But all joking aside, he probably does some kind of entrepreneurship, or something that involves working with people. And of course, because of Classic Anime Nephrite’s 500 million side hobbies, he probably does do some things with those on the side, but not with all of them.

Jadeite might still end up doing something with parks and recreation. He’s probably also a bit like Nephrite and does a few different jobs at different points. If he and Rei have an amicable relationship (again, regardless of whether or not it’s romantic) he might work at least part time at the shrine, particularly since a few adaptations have him being or claiming to be a bit spiritually inclined. Like Mamoru, he’s also one I’m open to headcanons for.

I’m also going to go ahead and include Beryl, even though she’s not a Shitennou, because I’ve been watching the musicals again, specifically Reconquista and Eien Densetsu, and I want this woman to have some happiness. There was a fan-comic I read where she makes a webshow about clothing alterations, so I would like to headcanon her becoming a costumer/designer for a theater company.

17 notes · View notes

askthebunker · 4 years

Text

The Beach Episode

“That’s just about everything,” Gabriel said, putting his hands on his hips as he looked out at the beach that had never been discovered by anyone before. He’d set up a few umbrellas as well as a picnic table with Sam earlier in the day and now they were just waiting on the others to arrive.

“It looks great, Gabe,” Sam smiled weakly before taking a deep breath, “I want everything to be perfect for Jack today, y’know?”

“No pressure, right?” Gabriel winked at him.

“You know what I mean,” Sam sighed, “It’s just...things have been weird, with everything happening. I want to make things up to Jack.”

“That’s not your job, Samoose,” Gabriel gave him a sympathetic smile, “You’re not the one who has the most making up to do.”

“He’s trying,” Sam explained, “That’s part of today, he’s going to try, he’s not going to drink, and he’s going to have a good time. We’re all going to have a good time.”

“Whatever you say,” Gabriel said, grabbing his hand and kissing it, “Let’s just...not get our hopes too high, okay? I know this is what you want, but all of us in one place…” he trailed off, “Hasn’t worked out the best in the past.”

“Never hurts to try,” Sam shrugged.

Gabriel just continued to smile sympathetically at him until the familiar sound of wings came through the air.

“Sam! Uncle Gabriel! Hello!” Jack said cheerfully.

When Sam looked up, Jack was standing with Michael, Adam, and Raphael, wearing a pair of plastic sunglasses that had neon green rims.

“We brought pie,” Raphael offered after a beat of silence, awkwardly holding out the circular pan, “Adam made it from items he grew in his garden. Why are you all so irritating? I like him just fine.”

Sam gave them a tight smile, taking the pan, “Thanks, guys,” he turned his attention to Jack, ignoring the comment, “How’s it going, Jack?”

“Good,” Jack grinned, “I am starting school this Fall, we all decided. I am very excited.”

“That’s...that’s great,” Sam smiled at him, “As long as everything goes according to plan…”

“Jack wants to go to school, so he’s going,” Adam said simply, “Regardless of what happens.”

Sam took a deep breath and gave him a tight smile, “Of course, whatever Jack wants.”

“Where are the others?” Adam changed the subject.

“You guys are the first ones here,” Sam shrugged, “Gabe and I came here to set up early since the place was essentially never discovered by humanity. We cleaned it up a bit.”

“Thanks for that,” Adam said simply, putting down the food as well as a bag, “Jack, make sure you put on sunscreen again soon, please.”

Jack nodded and sat down in the sand, grabbing Michael’s arm and pulling him down with him, “I’m going to teach Uncle Michael how to build a sandcastle.”

“Sounds great, bud,” Adam said simply, sitting down at the picnic table beside Raphael.

“Go talk to him,” Gabriel told Sam quietly, “Trust me, Raph isn’t much of a conversation starter, they’re just gonna sit there in silence.”

“There’s not much to talk about,” Sam swallowed.

“Never hurts to try,” Gabriel gave him a weak smirk, repeating his earlier words.

Sam just sighed again, smiling slightly at him before walking over.

Jack glanced up as Sam walked over to Adam and bumped Michael slightly.

Michael glanced up as well and cleared his throat, “Raphael, would you like to join us?”

The archangel squinted in confusion, “Why?”

“Because we need to spend time with Jack,” Michael said simply, “And I am asking you to.”

Raphael simply sighed and they walked over, sitting down in the sand and wrinkling their nose as they did, “I do not enjoy this,” they said immediately.

Sam sat down across from Adam, “Hey,” he said awkwardly, “How have...things been? We haven’t seen you since we came over to check out the house.”

“Fine,” Adam said, “I have a job at an antique shop in town. Jack wants to sell some of the stuff we grow in our garden, so Michael is helping him build a little stand.”

Sam nodded slowly, “Uh...so, there’s a thing going around...that you and Michael are expecting a kid?”

“Yes,” Adam deadpanned, “Is that going to be a problem?”

“What? No,” Sam said quickly, “I mean, we’d like to know if we’re gonna be uncles, y’know? We’re happy for you.”

“I’m sure you are,” Adam sighed, looking down at his phone and playing with it absentmindedly, despite there definitely not being any signal on the beach they were on.

“We’ll keep you and your kid safe from all of this,” Sam told him firmly.

“I don’t need you to,” Adam told him, “I genuinely don’t. I can take care of myself and even if I couldn’t, Michael is the first ever archangel. He’s powerful. I don’t need you to protect my child when we’re both very capable. I definitely don’t need Dean around my kid either.”

“Dean isn’t a bad guy, Adam,” Sam sighed, “We both made mistakes with Jack, we’re dealing with that and trying to make up for it.”

“You went along with it because he’s your big brother and he’s all you’ve ever known as a caretaker,” Adam snapped, “It’s definitely not healthy, but I understand you. Dean has treated Jack like shit since the beginning.”

“Don’t...do that. Don’t psychoanalyze us like you’re…” Sam trailed off, “Act human, dude. You’re not a robot.”

“I’m not though,” Adam sighed, “Sam...I spent over a thousand years with Michael and Lucifer. Things happen. I’m not human anymore. I don’t...one hundred percent know what I am, but it’s not human. I’m not saying I’m above you, I’m just saying...things get put into perspective when you have that long to think. The idea of petty drama and dealing with human bullshit is just nothing to me anymore.”

Sam watched him curiously, not sure what to say.

“I spent over a thousand years in Hell, Sam,” Adam sighed, “I don’t know what you want from me. I can’t bring myself to care about things that don’t matter to me anymore. Jack is my nephew, he was in a bad situation because of Dean, and now he’s not. Jack doesn’t have to forgive you guys, just like I don’t have to forgive any of you for letting me rot in Hell for all that time,” he stood up, “I came here today to spend time with my nephew, not debate my emotions with you.”

What emotions? Sam wanted to say, but stopped himself.

Dean probably wouldn’t have been so kind.

“I guess you were right though...we wanted to take Jack away from you, we just didn’t know it at the time,” Adam said simply before walking over and sitting down with the archangels and Jack in the sand.

“I’m guessing that didn’t go well?” Gabriel asked, walking over and sitting down beside him.

“Does it ever with him?” Sam mumbled.

“No, but if your boyfriend was an extreme optimist, would you tell him that?” Gabriel asked.

Before Sam could say anything else, the others appeared.

“This is awesome,” Charlie grinned, “We’re, like, the first people ever to be here, right?”

“That’s true,” Gabriel said, “Completely undiscovered by humanity; cool, right?”

“Definitely,” Kevin smiled.

“Sixty five percent of earth is still undiscovered by humanity, it’s not surprising,” Samandriel deadpanned.

Kevin just rolled his eyes, “C’mon, man, let’s get in the water.”

“Why?” Samandriel looked confused as he was drug over to the shoreline.

“Socially inept angels plus one beach day,” Dean walked over to Sam and Gabriel, “Entertaining, at least,” he said, looking confused when he saw the two archangels attempting to build a sandcastle with Jack and Adam’s help. He gestured to them, making Sam laugh.

“So,” Gabriel grinned as Benny, Balthazar, and Castiel all sat down with them, “Are we going to start a betting pool on how long it’ll take Heaven’s Most Adorable Angel and Heaven’s Most Adorable Prophet to get together?”

“Well, unless they’re like Charlie and refuse to make a move, probably soon- OW!” Dean groaned when Charlie threw a frisbee at the back of his head, “Hey!”

“Zip it,” Charlie told him immediately, “And come play frisbee with us.”

“I want to play!” Jack got up quickly.

Michael and Raphael sighed in relief, getting up from the sand almost in-sync and dusting themselves off, making Adam laugh.

Dean hesitated when Jack ran over and Sam shoved him lightly.

“Go,” the younger Winchester mumbled, giving him a look.

Dean sighed and grabbed the frisbee from where it landed beside him, rubbing the back of his head, “Nice aim,” he said, going to throw it back just as hard, but Charlie caught it with a smirk.

“Nice try,” Charlie said, tossing the frisbee gently to Jack, who fumbled to catch it.

…

“I don’t see the point,” Samandriel mumbled, “I thought we were busy fighting Father.”

“We are,” Kevin explained, “But...it’s important for us to relax too, especially Jack, he’s just a kid.”

Samandriel nodded slowly, looking down at his vessel’s feet in the water, tilting his head, “I find this very enjoyable, I’m surprised.”

“Yeah, free will does that to you,” Kevin laughed, reaching down and picking up a seashell, “Here...a souvenir for your first beach day.”

Samandriel took the shell, looking down at it in the palm of his hand, a small smile on his face.

…

“Yeah, I give it a week,” Gabriel smirked, looking over at Kevin and Samandriel, “Charlie, you need to catch up- OW!” he groaned when she threw the frisbee again.

“That didn’t even hurt you, don’t be a baby,” Balthazar snorted as Gabriel threw the frisbee back to the group.

“So,” Gabriel said, looking at Cas and Balthazar, “How’s it going with you two lovebirds?”

Cas glared at him, “I have explained this many times, we are not romantically involved. Platonic love is extremely valid.”

“You’ve been hanging around Adam too much,” Gabriel rolled his eyes.

Cas narrowed his eyes at him.

“Dude, you need to put on sunscreen,” Sam called to Dean.

Dean rolled his eyes, “I’ll be fine.”

Sam scoffed, “Whatever, your funeral, man.”

…

“Would you like to go for a walk?” Jack asked Dean once he tossed the frisbee to Dorothy.

Dean stared at him, “You sure that’s a good idea, kid?”

“I don’t need permission to go for a walk with a member of my family,” Jack said bluntly, “Or anything for that matter. I just need to let them know that we’re going, if you want to go.”

Dean nodded slowly, not sure what to say.

Jack walked over to where Adam and Michael were with Raphael and talked to them briefly. He turned back around and quickly walked over to Dean, “C’mon, I want to explore this place.”

Dean followed him, shock written all over his face.

“This is very cool,” Jack said casually as they walked through the woods, “I wonder if we’ll find a snake…” he trailed off, leaning down to grab some of the flowers.

Dean sighed, “Jack,” he cleared his throat, “Hey, buddy, we gotta talk eventually.”

“I am aware,” Jack sighed, standing back up and messing with the flowers he’d picked absentmindedly, refusing to make eye contact with him.

“There isn’t...a single excuse good enough for how I treated you,” Dean told him, “It was bad and it was wrong...no kid should be treated like that, ever, no matter what’s happened.”

“No matter what I’ve done?” Jack whispered, still looking down at the flowers.

“No matter what,” Dean shook his head, “I’m sorry I blamed you for stuff you couldn’t have controlled or the mistakes you made. I want to make it up to you...whatever way you’re okay with. We’re family, you’re a Winchester, and I’m sorry I didn’t treat you that way.”

Jack finally looked up at him and smiled weakly, “Thank you, Dean,” he told him, “I am happy living where I am, but...I miss you all very much, despite everything. I want us to be a family again.”

“I want that too,” Dean said before pulling him into a tight hug.

Jack hugged him back just as tight.

…

Samandriel came over to the table and sat down across from Castiel, surprising most of the people sitting there.

“Uh, Alfie, hey-” Sam started.

“I do not blame you for what happened to me,” Samandriel said firmly, “I think that most of the people here understand what it’s like to be under Heaven’s control. I would like you to please stop ignoring me now because I always wanted to get to know you and you acting like I do not exist out of guilt is very annoying.”

Silence.

Balthazar laughed in shock, “Well, free will certainly agrees with someone.”

“I...am sorry,” Cas cleared his throat, “You’re right. It was wrong of me to ignore you.”

Samandriel smiled, “Okay, thank you. I forgive you. Now, Kevin gave me this seashell and is very nice to me, it makes me feel odd. What does that mean?”

Balthazar burst out laughing.

…

Adam had his head ducked down, talking to Michael away from the rest of the group when Dean and Jack came back.

“You two are having a kid?” Dean asked bluntly as they walked over.

“Yes,” Adam crossed his arms then wrinkled his nose, “Your skin is red, you’re going to get a sunburn, just listen to Sam and put the sunscreen on.”

“You didn’t think to tell us?” Dean asked, ignoring the other comment, “We’re going to be uncles, it’s something to celebrate.”

“No,” Adam deadpanned, “It’s none of your business. What isn’t processing here?”

“We’re a family,” Jack spoke up, “I understand that you do not like Dean, but he is my family. I wanted to share my joy about having a new family member soon, so I told him.”

Adam took a deep breath and smiled at Jack, “You’re right, Jack...I’m sorry for snapping. Yes, Dean, we’re having a child.”

“Think this is a good time for that?” Dean asked.

“I doubt it’ll ever be the perfect time,” Adam said, taking Michael’s hand, “But it’s what we’re doing. Either support it or don’t, I don’t really care.”

Dean cleared his throat and nodded stiffly, “Of course we’ll support it...kid’s gotta know their uncles, right?”

“Not really,” Michael mumbled.

“Well,” Gabriel said, throwing his arms around Michael and Adam’s shoulders and squeezing between them, “Personally, I’m happy the little nephilim is out of the bag, now we can get down to the serious celebrating!”

“Can he even drink while he’s carrying?” Dean smirked.

Adam rolled his eyes, “Neither of us are carrying, asshole.”

…

“That was such a good idea,” Dorothy commented as they put stuff away in the storage room, “I haven’t felt this relaxed since we got back here,” she laughed weakly.

“Yeah, that tends to happen around Sam and Dean,” Charlie explained, “Trust me, I love them, they’re basically my family...but their lives are exhausting.”

“What are your plans for after this?” Dorothy asked suddenly.

Charlie looked at her and raised an eyebrow, “After?”

“I mean...after the whole...defeating God thing, y’know?” Dorothy asked.

“Oh,” Charlie sighed, “I don’t know. I’ve never really thought that far ahead, we’ve been so busy. I guess I might go back to hunting? I was pretty good at that.”

“I can’t think of anything I want to do,” Dorothy mumbled, “I’ve been so focused on Oz the last few years, it’s been so busy. Now it’s basically self-sufficient and I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do with myself,” she admitted, “This isn’t my world, it hasn’t been for a really long time.”

Charlie put a hand on her arm, “Hey, you always have us. We’re always going to be here.”

Dorothy smiled weakly, “I appreciate that...having you...I mean...all of you,” she sighed, looking up at the ceiling.

Charlie smiled at her for a moment.

Dorothy rolled her eyes, “Okay, this is getting exhausting,” she said before leaning down and kissing her.

…

“Jack seemed like he’s doing good,” Dean said awkwardly as they sat in the kitchen.

“Yeah,” Cas sighed, his voice small and quiet, “He does. He deserves to have that kind of life, where he’s happy,” he swallowed, “Even if it isn’t with us.”

Dean sighed, “He’ll be back one day...said he wants us all to be a family again.”

“The house is a better place for him to live a life, not the bunker,” Cas cleared his throat, “And no, Dean, that’s not me taking Adam’s side, it’s me taking Jack’s.”

Dean scrubbed his face with his hands, “I wasn’t going to say that. I’m trying here, okay?”

“I know,” Cas nodded, looking down at his hands.

“Cas…” Dean trailed off.

“I am not with Balthazar,” Cas said quietly, “That is in the past. I love him, I always will, but it is a platonic love now.”

“Why are you telling me that?” Dean asked.

“I just...wanted you to know,” Cas told him, “Because everyone is thinking about their future, about what they want after all of this is over,” he stood up, “I am going to go make sure Jack made it home okay,” he said before disappearing right in front of Dean’s eyes.

Dean stared at the spot he’d disappeared from and sighed, “What the hell?”

#cutscene;#beach episode;#sorry for how late this is #im not happy with it but here it is #some things have finally been r e s o l v e d

14 notes · View notes

howaminotinthestrokesyet · 3 years

Text

Sex, Drugs, and The Rolling Stones: The Redlands Drug Bust

At the heart of celebrity drug culture in the mid-1960s was the uneasy alliance between the press and the police. One such partnership emerged in 1967 between The News of the World and Scotland Yard in England. In that particular year, this tabloid began campaigns against many rock bands including the Moody Blues, Cream, and the Who . At that time, the news of the world represented the TMZ or National Enquirer in the press. The paper had earned the nickname the Screws of the World due to the fact that it primarily reported on celebrity sex scandals. The first star to be subjected to shabby treatment and misrepresentation by the tabloid was Donovan when arrested for marijuana possession. A gap began to develop between these newly famous rock stars and the press when in the past more traditional entertainers had been given much more leniency to their private lives. In early 1967, Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, and Brian Jones began to be pursued by the press again and again about recreational drug habits due to a story that year in The News of the World. In February, a story was published specifically on the Rolling Stones, which mentioned a member of the band talking about drugs, while taking Benzedrine tablets and hashish. The article claimed that to be Mick Jagger, but when in fact it was Brian Jones. Two days later Mick Jagger filed a lawsuit against the newspaper for libel. Furthermore, they quoted Jones talking about using LSD, but once again his words were misrepresented because in reality he had said marijuana. The newspaper did this on purpose because at the time LSD was seen as a much more dangerous drug than marijuana. Other celebrities also believed that the News of the World actually knew that was Brian Jones, but used Mick Jagger because it would sell more newspapers. Yet, a problem emerged because Jagger actually had an alibi for the night in question. The newspaper began to immediately look at the possible financial fallout from his lawsuit. They then decided to place two reporters on the Jagger day and night in order to prove of his drug use making their article completely accurate.

On February 11, the newspaper received a tip that the Rolling Stones were engaged in a drug party at Keith Richards home on his Redlands estate, which could be found in Sussex. The party was attended by a few of Mick Jagger and Keith Richards’ friends including Jagger's girlfriend, Marianne Faithfull, art dealer Robert Fraser, photographer Michael Cooper, and antique dealer, Christopher Gibbs. Brian Jones had planned to attend, but he was finishing up work on a soundtrack album. He planned to stop at the party, once he was finished. The other person at the party emerged in David Schneiderman, who was well known in party circles as the Acid King. He often walked around with a briefcase filled to the brim with LSD. Reportedly, the party was being thrown in order to give Jagger his first acid trip. Everyone at the party dropped acid around noon of that Saturday. In the early evening, George Harrison of the Beatles and his wife stopped by, but they did not stay very long. The raid by the police would happen the following day when 18 police officers including two females performed the raid. Nobody was arrested on that day, but fairly quickly Mick Jagger and Keith Richards were charged with major drug offenses. Robert Fraser was also charged at that time because he had been carrying heroin in his pocket. Many believe that at the time of the raid Jagger and Richards were coming down from the previous day's acid trip. Richards would later say, “There’s a knock on the door, I look out the window, and there's this whole lot of dwarves outside … I'd never been busted before, and I'm still on acid.” In actuality, the police found very little in terms of illegal activity that day. There were a few roach joints laying around and amphetamines possessed by Jagger. Untruths began to immediately come out about the party as it was erroneously reported that they were having an orgy. A false story began to emerge that Jagger was eating a Mars candy bar out of Marianne Faithfull‘s vagina. This did not happen. Faithfull would make the comment saying you have to wonder where people's minds were at back then. For his part, Richards was informed by the police as property owner he would be liable for any drugs found on any of his guests. He said, “I see. They pin it all on me" At that point, Brian Jones called to say that he would be driving down shortly, but Richards told him to not even bother since they had been busted. These drug offenses at the time carried quite a bit of jail time, as well as jeopardizing any chance to tour America because they would need to obtain a travel visa. Their manager, Andrew Oldham, fearing his own arrest fled to America in order to avoid any legal issues.

One of the first things that the band did after the raid was to find out who had informed on them. Their paranoia began to go into overdrive at this time. At first, they believed it to be their chauffeur. Friend Nicky Kramer, who was also there had actually been assaulted in order to get him to give up the informant, but it did not work. The most likely person was probably Schneiderman, the Acid King. Yet, by the time anyone realized this, he was back in California. Another example of their paranoia came in the fact that they believed the raid happened after George Harrison had left out of respect for the Beatles. The Stones were being singled out specifically by the police. Within a week, the band needed to figure out a legal strategy due to the seriousness of the charges. The fact that Oldham had left the country almost immediately struck the band as him being a coward. Allen Klein would devise the legal strategy and publicity for the band. The bust actually started to seal his fate as the bands ex ex-manager. The raid also worsened Jagger’s friendship with Brian Jones. From his point of view, if the guitarist had not been talking so much, then none of the problems with the News of the World would have ever occurred. In hindsight, Jagger was probably fooling himself about the raid because it was Richards that invited the Acid King and other outsiders to the party. Christopher Gibbs would later say that it was actually brought upon them by them. In order to escape the press, the band went to Morocco, where Brian Jones got very sick. He met up with Keith Richards and Anita Pallenberg in Tangier, which eventually led to the latter leaving Jones for Richards. Jagger and Richards would both spend the night in jail following their court date. They were sentenced shortly after with Jagger receiving four months in prison for four pills, while Richards was sentenced to a year in prison for allowing cannabis to be smoked on his property. During their trial, Marianne Faithfull recalled one of the silver linings throughout the affair was that Mick and Keith wore an incredible wardrobe to court. She saw them as almost romantic figures in a novel.

The saving grace for Jagger and Richards actually turned out to be something they would never suspect in a million years. The editor of The Times, William Rees-Moog published a scathing criticism of their sentences entitled, “Who Breaks a Butterfly Upon a Wheel.” This was a reference to an Alexander Pope poem talking about torture. He would write, “Mr Jagger received a more severe sentence than would have been thought proper for any purely anonymous young man.” On appeal, Jagger’s sentence was changed to a conditional discharge, while Richards’ sentence was thrown out. With the help of The Times, public sentiment began to turn against the police regarding the sentences. There seemed an outcry that Jagger and Richards were being persecuted. On the day that Jagger and Richards got their release from jail, Brian Jones was arrested for drug possession. Once again, Klein needed to bail him out. He later joined the band at a party at a London hotel when Marianne Faithfull pulled out some hash. Klein immediately grabbed it and threw it out the window yelling, “You people are stupid.”

In the aftermath of the entire ordeal, some interesting things came out of it, which would go on to affect the band. Keith Richards would say in 2003, “When we got busted at Redlands, it suddenly made us realize that this was a whole different ball game and that was when the fun stopped. Up until then, it had been as though London existed in a beautiful space where you could do anything you wanted.” Marianne Faithfull would go on to say that the acid trip along with the raid that day strengthened the bond between Jagger and Richards. After that, they were pretty much inseparable. To people like Rees-Moog, the sentence of Jagger was particularly eye opening because the pills he had were in his words “sea sickness tablets.” Anybody else would have merely received a fine. Another thing about the bust emerged in that it further cemented their bad boy image as the anti-Beatles. One of the more lasting impacts from the bust came in the fact that this became the first time the establishment had really gone after rock stars, as it was being played out in the tabloid press. This became a signal to everyone in Britain that traditional values had pretty much gone out the window by this time. This started TMZ for rock stars.

4 notes · View notes

corinthbayrpg · 4 years

Photo

NAME. Ikaros Theoinos AGE & BIRTH DATE. Currently 34, reincarnated on January 3rd, 1984 GENDER & PRONOUNS. Male & He/Him SPECIES. Kobalos OCCUPATION. Owner of Mount Olympus FACE CLAIM. Daniel Sharman

BIOGRAPHY

( tw: cannibalism, blood, drinking, violence, gore, sexual themes ) Born in ancient antiquity, in a small village on the outskirts of Thebes, Ikaros was a charismatic and precocious child. The villagers were devout followers of Dionysus, a cult of pious individuals who believed that in order to pay their Godly patron his proper due, they needed to celebrate his debauchery appropriately. Blessed with his favor, they celebrated nightly and took to the hills crying out their ritualistic calls, “Euoi! Euoi! Euoi!” They danced with floral crowns through the trees as they waved their ivy-tipped fennel wands, the hum and call of their aulos and tympanon echoed with their every foot step.

Their cackles and calls sent chills down the spines of Thebes and the neighboring villages as the onlookers watched torches flicker through forests and roam hills. The cult dawned the skins of fawns and were rumored to use their divine favor to charm snakes and suckle from animals, this was said to be what gave them the strength to tear their victims apart with their bare hands before they would perform ritualistic feasts. When the cult willed it, they would dance through the streets of Thebes, flaunt their musical prowess and performance ability, lead the ritual celebrations to Dionysus, then once again return to the hills. They were honored by some, but widely hated and despised by most, they stole men and women and children alike, vanished them as the Dionysian’s offered the flesh of the taken to their Godly patron. Devout and fevered, they would cackle and cry out in ecstasy, each enjoyed the body and flesh of another. There were no rules imposed against them, they answered to neither Gods nor men and for this they were conspired against. Their home could be razed, their crops burned, but the cultists were never snuffed out entirely, they were performers and dancers, craftsman and philosophers, but they were also warriors. What the villagers craved more than anything was the immortality that was only bestowed upon the most deserving, they prayed to Dionysus and attributed all that they were to his great honor. In time, they were given the gifts that they so desperately craved, and Ikaros, a man now in his early thirties, was transformed into a Kobaloi. An immortal trickster that would reincarnate at the end of his mortal life, forever. Ikaros remained with the village for at least one lifetime, when he was reincarnated it was not until he reached manhood that the memories of his past all presented themselves to him. As a child he would get flashes of his previous life, but he had his family and fellow villagers there to tell him why this was. Ikaros learned then that his memories would always return to him, that his life was all but predetermined, his powers reached from his fingertips and bent the natural world around him. He was a trickster, by nature and species, and as a young Kobaloi he delighted in spreading his doctrine of madness. By 338 BCE his family, and fellow cultists had all but made Thebes their home, the city-state had pledged Dionysus and Apollo as their patrons and it seemed fitting that some of the cult remain there. The city had been taken under control by Alexander The Great’s father, Philip ll of Macedon, and following the man’s death the people of Thebes took the change of power and Thracian uprising to the North as an opportunity to rebel against Alexander’s rule. The city-state wanted to win its independence back, but despite the added power of the Kobalos, the forces of the legendary King were too great for Thebes. Alexander razed the city to the ground, and those who survived the attack were sold into slavery. Ikaros was separated from what remained of the cult and his family. Ikaros was able to escape slavery and disguise himself as a soldier and for years he remained in the company of Alexander’s second in command, a general named Hephaestion. Ikaros fought in every battle, discreetly put his considerable skills to good use, and inspired madness on both sides of the battle. The trickster wanted revenge though, and he would have it, he followed the King’s lead from Asia Minor to Syria where they defeated the Persian Army at Issus before they laid siege to Tyre. The will of the cult with him at every breath, rituals of madness and hedonism and sacrificial cannibalism that would have made any hardened soldier’s blood run cold. After Tyre, the King conquered Egypt, and for a time Ikaros considered remaining behind in Alexandria, Egypt was unlike anything he’d ever seen, pyramids that lifted the eye of the sun. Architecture that rivaled any Greek. But hate ran deep and it was all he could do to twist the minds of the soldiers who were once so loyal to Alexander The Great. They conquered Egypt and moved onto Babylon and Persia before word of a revolt among the King’s soldiers was enough to make Alexander forgo his plans for further expansion. The mad King was prepared to run over the world with his desire for conquest, but it was in Babylon that Alexander’s fate was at last sealed. Ikaros left Babylon behind and sought instead to return to Mother Greece, Alexander’s influence could still be felt as his territory was divided between his generals. Ikaros would grow to die of old age, a first and only for the Kobaloi who had only ever fallen in combat. He delighted in his final days as he watched what was left of a great empire fall into ruin, when he was reincarnated it was into Rome as it began to rise to power. Born on the opposite side of the war to his mother country, Ikaros had no problem playing both fields as Rome transitioned into a period of conquest and descended towards the Greeks. The city-states had become weak over the years, constant war between them, fluxes in political leadership, and rebellion against the aristocracy had left the Greeks weak. Ikaros died at the Battle of Pydna in 168 BCE before he was reincarnated once again as a Roman. At last the Greeks were defeated at the Battle of Corinth in 146 BCE, and Ikaros, a young man of twenty-two at this point, felt unstoppable. He’d lived several lifetimes as a Kobalos and delighted in spreading madness and misery where ever he went, Ikaros had taken so many lives, had driven so many to the ends of themselves that he had entirely lost count how many souls he had delivered to Hades on Dionysus’ behalf. It was while he played his part in the Roman conquest of Egypt, before its final fall in 31 BCE, that he struck the ire of a group of townsfolk he’d driven into fits of madness. It was at this time that he’d met two individuals who he’d connected with intimately, though they did not share his immortal reincarnations, he wanted desperately to convince them to take an immortal life and spend eternity with him. Hedonism and insanity followed the three where ever they went, and this Greek-controlled Egyptian village was no different. While toying with them, as Ikaros did, one of the townsfolk became aware that it was Ikaros who was behind the madness and was able to see through his illusions. Wracked with grief, the town’s person rushed Ikaros but it was one of his lover’s who took the blade. While the Kobaloi held her dying frame in his arms, their third lover was slain as well, it was all he could do to escape but the trickster was grief stricken and perished shortly after. When Ikaros regained his memories almost twenty years later, Rome had become an Empire united under Caesar Augustus, madness already tainted Ikaros’ soul, and now grief was his sole companion.There was much to be done in Rome, however, and as Christianity began to rise, Ikaros persecuted those who renounced the pagan Gods. Crucified them, their deaths were violent and cruel and as Rome eventually burned while Emperor Nero looked on, it was Ikaros who handed the madman his lyre. The trickster died once again before he was reincarnated back into the streets of Rome, this time as he rose to manhood it was once again in the life of a soldier. Each reincarnation the memories were difficult to understand at first. He had no guidance as a young man, nobody to tell him why he saw the things he did, or why he had his power. Nevertheless, his affinity for trickery was a constant companion until his memories would trigger and at last make everything clear once again. Rarely did Ikaros encounter anyone like him, fellow tricksters that once hailed from a small village that had lost its name to the annals of time. He remained in Europe up until the twelfth century, his name changing every time he reincarnated, from 1254 - 1324 AD he traveled to Asia as a Venetian merchant named Marco. At 17 Ikaros had regained his memories and wished to see more of the world, the trickster traveled the Silk Road and ended up in the court of the great Ghengis Khan before ultimately meeting his end. Ikaros was once again reincarnated in Italy, he regained his memories as he approached manhood and delighted in the expanding sexual liberties that the renaissance ushered in. He laughed in the face of the liberties that the artists of the period took with the culture that surrounded Greek culture. It was all very romantic, but the life Ikaros remembered had been anything but, life in ancient Greek society was violent and it was cruel. Unless you were Spartan, then there was only the wealthy men - and then everyone else below them who was subjected to their will. From Italy, Ikaros found himself in the New World, reincarnated in South America before he later traveled North. The trickster inserted himself into conflict always and adored humanities newfound ways to kill one another. Guns were especially exciting and there seemed to be no end to a mortal’s capacity for cruelty. Years of violence and death had desensitized him to it entirely, there was nothing that Ikaros would not do to entertain himself, and what entertained him most was driving people towards madness and Dionysus’ patient embrace. Ikaros’ sexual liberties did not go unnoticed, he was tracked down and persecuted by hunters who became aware of his presence in the area. Eventually they saw through his trickery and burned him at the stake as if he were a witch, the fire that consumed him was not a memory he would easily forget and this rise of religious fervor made him crave the roots of his past. Shortly after the earthquake that nearly decimated Corinth, Ikaros returned to mother Greece where her earthen soil was waiting to welcome him home. It was here in the late 1800s that Ikaros commissioned a winery, Mount Olympus, he called it, though the wine was anything but divine. Ikaros felt slighted by the God of debauchery, Dionysus had been silent for over a millennia and in that silence Ikaros began to feel as if he’d been abandoned entirely. So, Ikaros soured the grapes, tainted the vines themselves and made it so any who consumed the wine would taste the bitterness in his heart, one he dedicated to the patron God who had made him what he was today. Ikaros lived three lifetimes since then, he traveled occasionally but was too drawn by the weakened veil to ever truly stay gone. The winery was always his, it passed from incarnation to incarnation as he plied the local Delphic Oracle with false promises of safety from his trickery should she tell him who his soul would pass to next. Most recently the trickster was in Australia when he heard the voice of Dionysus call to him from across the Veil for the first time in over a thousand years. The thought never occurred to him not to answer, while he held no great love for the god, Ikaros knew that if Dionysus’ call would ultimately bring great chaos to Corinth, it was something that the trickster could not resist. Not because he was divinely inspired, simply because there was a war brewing and Ikaros’ lust for madness and bloodshed remained insatiable.

PERSONALITY

+ cunning, charismatic, open-minded - hedonist, aloof, mischievous

PLAYED BY SHANE. EST. He/Him.

#male #kobalos #ikaros theoinos #daniel sharman

7 notes · View notes

mikaa-mina · 4 years

Text

At Garden’s Edge- Chapter 5: In which bad days are had, assumptions are made, and sweets always taste better with good company

This is a very sweet and silly chapter, and also my longest chapter for this fic yet clocking in at just over 5k!

A small content warning, there are some descriptions of depression/feeling down and apathetic in this chapter. They are primarily right at the beginning and I promise there's a bunch of silly fun in this chapter and it ends on a happy note. (No seriously, these characters can be so silly sometimes!)

Nevertheless! Even though there is nothing heavy in this chapter, if you for any reason feel uncomfortable reading a chapter (any chapter in this fic) please don't hesitate to reach out to me. I will try to summarize the chapter without going into whatever the subject is that is an issue. <3

As always, this was beta'd by the lovely lovely Tarek_giverofcookies who has helped me multiple times when I was banging my head against writer's block.

At Garden’s Edge

Chapter 5- In which bad days are had, assumptions are made, and sweets always taste better with good company.

It had been a bad day. In fact, there had been rather more than seven of them so far. He hadn’t opened the shop in three of them and couldn’t honestly recall the last time he’d stepped out of the building at all. Living above the shop, or rather more in the antique armchair in the back room of the shop, tended to have it’s own perks and disadvantages. The perks being that he didn’t really have to leave home to work, was constantly surrounded by books, and he never had to leave the building unless he was out acquiring new books. Unfortunately, these same perks were also the disadvantages.

It made the days when the fog grew thick and oppressive that much more harder. It was difficult to convince oneself to leave the building when instead he could just stay in working on commissions. And what if he missed a customer while out and about?

When his head felt full of cotton, and fatigue lingered in all his limbs, the quiet thoughts would slip inside. What harm would it really do to close the shop early? For the day? Why move from this armchair at all, he deserved a day off. He’s in the middle of a chapter and it’s raining out, no sensible fool would bring an old antique book to be authenticated or repaired in the pouring rain.

Three days into this he realized he couldn’t recall what the last book he just finished reading had even been about at all. It was as if he was eating food and yet tasting none of it. Stale and unappealing. The horror that books had become that for him.

It was temporary, he knew. He had figured out with help how to help manage this, but knowing how to do so didn’t make the actual doing of it any easier. It took another day of bargaining with himself before he managed to call up a friend. Unfortunately she was out of town, but talking to her still helped. She stayed on the phone as long as she could and before ending the call she gently suggested taking a walk through town, just to be around other people without having to talk to anyone if he wasn’t up to that just yet.

“Or maybe dearie, you should go see that florist friend of yours,” Madame Tracey suggested with what was surely a twinkle in her eye.

Aziraphale himself didn’t really feel one way or the other about it, instead of insisting Crowley was just his florist and not his friend he just hummed non-noncommittally. (Who would want to be friends with a stuffy boring older man like him? He knew what he was like and was content with it but others hardly liked it.)

Failing to get the reaction she was hoping for made her stress again him getting out. Maybe visit that bakery he liked so much.

Instead he found himself wandering the city, and not too unsurprisingly, wandering into the flower shop and plant nursery, Garden’s Edge.

There was some sort of bee-bop playing in the shop, quietly at first and then increasing in volume as he wandered towards the back.

And then he heard it. Someone… singing. Not particularly badly but not especially well either. Though that may have been helped by the fact that the song they were singing to seemed to be more of a spoken song than the newer bee-bop Aziraphale’d heard in the shops downtown.

It got louder as he followed it all the way to the very back of the shop. When he reached the check out counter he could see the door to the back propped open as someone sang about… French novels and the absurd?

Aziraphale glanced around, but no one else was in the shop, so slowly he edged around the corner of the door to peek into the back room because surely the only person it could be was Crowley. As far as he was aware, Crowley was the only person who worked here. So it had to be him. But singing?

A quick glance in and all he saw was a flash of black and red. A pity he didn’t carry any mirrors on his person any more.

Steadying his breathing again he looked around the corner again through the door way. He had meant it to be a quick glance again but he found himself stopping at the sight he had caught. It was indeed Crowley. Crowley in his black leather jacket and absurd snake skin boots, eyes closed as he sang into the end of the broom in his hand. His hips were… doing something? Moving in some way, perhaps this was a new fangled form of dancing, and his arms were gesturing grandly as he sang and moved about the room.

“-And some kinds of love The possibilities are endless And for me to miss one Would seem to be groundle-EH?! Ah-AZIRAPHALE?!?”

Aziraphale startled, nearly fell from his precariously balanced position, but Crowley was worse, his eyes having opened as he turned about the back room mid spin, he faltered, eyes landing on Aziraphale and broom flinging from his hand. It crashed into a large iron shelving unit that rattled dangerously and sent Crowley lunging in that direction to catch some of the pots that had rattled right off the edge.

“Oh dear,” he rushed forward to give Crowley a hand, “terribly sorry to frighten you. What can I do to help?”

“Wah-gah- huh??”

Aziraphale bit back a smile, he was rather adorable when flustered. His face was turning red, his eyebrows high on his face in confusion and disbelief, his arms fluttering around in nervousness and nearly dropping the pots he had managed to catch.

“Here,” he dipped down and picked up some of the pots scattered on the ground. Thankfully most of the ones that fell seemed to be the cheaper plastic ones. Temporary pots for young plants or plastic pots made to look like stone.

Straightening back up, arms full of (thankfully clean) pots (just think of what would have happened to his coat) he smiled at Crowley. It was a bit more customer service polite smile than the genuine one he’d felt earlier as the fog settled back in, but he didn’t want Crowley to feel as if it was his fault. “Where shall I put them?”

After a string of unintelligible sounds, Crowley gestured towards a table slightly helplessly. He croaked out a thanks, plopped his own load down and stared at the table for a moment.

Just as Aziraphale was starting to sink back into that state where he felt rather detached from everything Crowley’s head snapped towards his.

“Uh… how.. how much of that did you hear?”

“I couldn’t really make it out until I got to the back somewhere around something to do with filthy french novels and the absurd?”

Crowley’s blush renewed itself, darkening in color and then spreading down his chest and up to his ears. It was adorable.

“Y-you can’t tell anyone!”

Aziraphale cocked a brow, slightly amused but mostly confused. Perhaps that was the fog again- maybe it had obscured something that would make this make sense.

“About what dear? You singing?”

“No! I mean yes, that too, but no the-uh...” Crowley gestured in an extremely un-illuminating way.

“...I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

The strange half starts to words and sentences falling apart in Crowley’s throat sounded off again before he finally settled from his wild gesticulating to stare rather firmly at something on the other side of the room from him. “Can’t tell anyone I like that kind of stuff.”

Aziraphale was hopelessly lost. “...Singing?”

Crowley’s mouth twisted. “No-yes, well, I don’t care so much about that. It’s the...”

“...the?”

“thesingingaboutlovegunk.”

He blinked. “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.”

“…. it’s the, whole, uh...” every word seemed to take effort, though for what reason Aziaphale had no idea, “it’s the love thing, okay?! I just- it doesn’t fit my image and people don’t need to know that I- that- people don’t need to know that!”

Oh.

A smile twitched at the edges of his lips again, not enough to force the smile through the fog, but enough to make him feel a bit warmer. He took in Crowley’s defensive posture, the hot blush upon his face and chest, his burning ears, and the steadfast way he wouldn’t look at Aziraphale.

A bit softer and sweeter than Aziraphale had originally pegged him as.

He turned the smile begging at his lips from something too soft and fond into something more benignly friendly. “Of course.”

A beat of silence and then Crowley finally turned his head back towards Aziraphale’s, shoulders hunched up by his red ears. “Yeah?”

“Of course.”

There was a beat of silence before Aziraphale found his mouth speaking quite without his permission. “So. A secret romantic then?”

Crowley just groaned in dismay.

“Did you come here just to mock me?”

The smile slid off his face. He’d meant to reply with something funny, or a bit teasing, but now that he was reminded of the real reason he’d stumbled across this scene, things didn’t seem as funny as they were a moment ago. Still, he knew wallowing in it wouldn’t help matters, so he tried to marshal himself back up to that trusty customer service smile and said, “oh, I was just out.”

He didn’t even realize he was avoiding eye contact with Crowley until the man side stepped back into his vision, leaning down a bit to try and catch his eyes.

Crowley hummed, rocked back on his heels, bit his lip, seemed to cast around for some words and finally offered up a, “wanna talk about it or not talk about it?”

Aziraphale’s eyes rose to meet his. He hesitated.

Crowley gave him a wry sort of smile, dusted his hands on his jeans, then clapped them together to make a loud sound that startled Aziraphale. “Right! Let’s go then.”

Aziraphale blinked, watching Crowley sway right out the door and into the main shop. Following him a bit bewilderingly he echoed, “go?”

“Yup. Going!”

Crowley stopped by the front door, pulled Aziraphale’s still wet umbrella out of the stand, handed it to him, then fished out another umbrella from the stand for himself. It was still raining outside.

Crowley opened the door with a flourish, keys jangling from his pinky finger as he popped open the umbrella with his free hand and gestured to outside. “Out.”

Well. Alight then. ‘Out’ it was.

Aziraphale slid open his umbrella, stepped out, and watched in a sort of detached curiosity as Crowley flipped the sign to closed and locked up the shop. Then he turned with a grin and said, “not too far.”

Well. That explained one thing and nothing else. Still. Aziraphale followed him, noting distractedly that Crowley’s umbrella seemed to have ducks faintly patterned on it. The slick shine of rain highlighting the faded ink as the textures ran different than the rest of the unmarked umbrella.

A few blocks, some turns down some alleys, and they arrived at the shop front of a lovely little cafe bakery. Aziraphale stared at it before Crowley marched right up, ducks swimming in the rain above his head, and opened the door. He made a dramatic sweeping ‘after you’ gesture and Aziraphale was surprised by his own quiet snort of laughter.

Walking in, the air hit warm and dry against his face, and the light was brighter than outside’s overcast weather, but dimmer than some of the more mainstream restaurants liked to have. He shook off his umbrella and left it in the umbrella stand by the door and took his first good look around the place.

The best way to describe it was that it was charming.

It had the standard bakery wide windows in the front of the establishment but instead of just slatted blinds, there were also soft gauzy curtains pulled to the sides and secured with a soft tasseled rope. Aziraphale’s eyes gravitated to the back corner of the cafe where there were two bookcases set against each other creating a corner, filled with mismatched books, and sat in front of it was a squishy looking couch, armchair set, and low coffee table.

The shop had a few other tables set with soft seating of the like, while the rest scattered about the shop were the more standard fair cafe chairs and tables. There was music playing quietly in the background, the colors of the cafe were soft and easy on his eyes, and there was the biggest set of two bakery display cases he’d ever seen in a shop so small. He could hear Crowley’s quiet chuckle as he gravitated towards the counter.

How he’d missed this place he’d never know. (Spoiler: it’s because he never leaves his shop unless it’s to go to Crowley’s shop or to go buy new books)

He was looking down at the most scrumptious looking assortment of pastries when a young woman popped up from behind a strange chrome contraption that Aziraphale could only assume was used to make fancy coffees.

“Oh! Hi, welcome to Knead to Know, how can I- Oh AJ!”

Her eyes flickered between the two of them before a smile began to spread across her face wide enough to cause some alarm to Aziraphale. She propped an elbow up on the counter, set her chin in her hand, and grinned properly at Crowley. She had pink bangs.

“I assume you’re not here for your usual? Or are you and you just brought him with you today?”

Crowley, completely oblivious it seemed to the teasing just shook his head and said, “Nah, I’ll come tomorrow for the usual. Today’s different.”

“I’ll say,” she agreed, raised her eyebrows and flicked her eyes towards Aziraphale who was finally starting to feel a bit of nervousness or embarrassment filter through the fog. It was hard to tell which was which.

“Yup,” Completely Clueless said, “so I just want my usual drink but get whatever he wants.” He gestured to Aziraphale with a tilt of his head before turning to look at him proper. “From what I’ve heard, the Brittney things are good and anything chocolate’s pretty popular.”

Behind Crowley’s head the young cashier rolled her eyes dramatically, mouthed ‘totally clueless’, winked at Aziraphale and then said, “chocolate’s only the most popular because of who you bring them to.” She faced Aziraphale again, smiled, and said “The Cheese Brittney is good, and our baker has recently got on a kick of sponge cakes so personally I’d recommend the Tres Leche Cake.”

She pointed to each in turn. Both looked scrumptious but which would taste better right now? The moistness of the Tres Leche might be what he needed to chase his dry and crumbly feelings away but at the same time a Cheese Brittney with it’s flakey and crunchy pillow might be just the soft landing place he needs.

As he debated internally, he tried to shove away any distressing thoughts of if it would be as bland as his books have been, while Crowley chatted with the barista.

“Find anything your heart settled on? Or your taste-buds?”

At the barista’s question Aziraphale startled, he’d lost track of time while dawdling and had probably spent far too long trying to decide. “Oh! I, well, you see they both seem so scrumptious that it’s just so difficult to choose.”

Crowley hummed for a second then tipped his head to the side and asked, “why don’t you just get them both then?”

“Oh, oh wouldn’t that be too much?” Too greedy, too gluttonous, too excessive. How often had he been taught that pleasure had to be earned? What had he done to earn either of them, let alone two pastries? He’s only been stuck in his head, shop not even open, for days and-

Crowley shrugged, completely unbothered, and said “eh, one of life’s pleasures, issn’t?”

Aziraphale stared at him, derailed from his negative self-talk suddenly and jarred by it.

Crowley must have mistook it as an objection to what he had said because then he defended it with a “Wut? Don’t give me that look. Life’s about living for the good stuff, yeah? So get ‘em both. Enjoy them.”

A moment to process that and then Aziraphale gave a quiet acquiesce, “alright.”

“Yeah?”

Aziraphale mustered a small smile in return for Crowley’s crooked grin, “yes.” Turning to the barista, who suspiciously looked like she was trying to smother a too wide grin, he said “I’ll take them both, please.”

She let the grin out in full force, “yes sir, right away sir!”

“Ah... thank you. Er, how much will they be?”

“Oh, AJ already covered it,” she winked at him but he was too busy turning to Crowley and protesting to see it.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

Crowley shoved his hands into his pockets and gave a sort of shrug with his shoulders, “eh, we’re friends, ‘s what friends do.”

There was a growing warmness in Aziraphale’s chest heating up, something fond and soft, starting to glow like a lighthouse in the sea fog. Friends. “Oh.”

Crowley flashed a small smile, a smile unlike the flashy smirks and cocky grins, before turning away towards the back of the shop. “C’mon, I know that book nook’s practically singing your name you big ol’ bookie.” And then he sauntered off, ears a bit pink at the vulnerability maybe, and Aziraphale was left, for just a moment, alone with that warm feeling. At being announced a friend where anyone could hear. Proudly, unashamed.

The warm feeling tentatively spread.

“I’ll bring y’all’s food and drinks in moment, go ahead and sit down.”

He startled a little, glanced at the barista to find her smiling and said, “thank you dear girl.”

She grinned a little then teased, “go on, he’s an impatient man if I’ve ever seen one though he doesn’t seem to mind waiting on you.”

Not quite sure what to make of that he made his way over to the table where Crowley seemed to have made lounging an art form. He was spilled all over the arm chair head turned to frown at the books on the shelves to his left.

Normally Aziraphale would be all over those books. Carefully going through the titles, trying to see what the people here liked. You could tell a lot about a person from the books they chose to keep. Though the rules tended to vary when it came to shops, you weren’t catering to just one person’s taste after all, but many. But even then, he found it an enjoyable little game to see if there were any hidden gems in restaurants like this. Sometimes places you didn’t expect to, would have a valuable or rare book without even realizing it. Even rarer still, they might have a book Aziraphale wanted to get his hands on.

But his stomach rolled a little when he glanced at the books, remembering the morning and his apathy for reading. He did not want to try again so soon. He didn’t want to pick up a book, expecting to enjoy it, or even hoping to enjoy it, and find it as bland and unenjoyable as before. No, it was simply best to wait. He didn’t want to be turned off of books for any longer than he probably already was going to be.

So he sat in the surprisingly comfy armchair, looked up at Crowley, and realized he had no idea what to say.

Thankfully, Crowley seemed quite reluctant to let an uncomfortable silence descend and instead jerked his head towards the bookcase and said, “would’ve thought you’d be all over these.”

Well. Not the conversation he wanted but, beggars and all that.

“Ah, perhaps later.” A thought hit him, “do you have a favorite?” even if he couldn’t get enjoyment from reading right now, perhaps he could still get some enjoyment from talking book tastes and just getting to learn more about Crowley. Crowley who abruptly closed up shop without warning in the middle of the work day and brought him here.

“Oh dear, was it really alright to close up shop? I hadn’t realized earlier...”

“Yeah. ‘S fine. Wanted to take you here.”

“But...”

“Eh, it’s raining. Had only one customer all day, so who cares if I take a long lunch break? Hell I could probably take the rest of the day off what with the downpour scheduled for all day. Was only cleaning when you came by.”

The warm feeling spread a bit. Heated up a bit more.

“Ah, I don’t think that’s quite true, dear.”

“What? No, you saw-”

A small smile bloomed on his lips, “I saw you dancing and-”

“Nrk- nuh, yuh- you said you wouldn’t!-”

Aziraphale chuckled lightly, feeling a bit lighter, a bit less bogged down, “and I shan’t. Alright, tell me about what you like to read.”

The barista came by, delivering a tall drink to Crowley, the pastries and a plastic cup of water to Aziraphale. She bid them a good meal and left, turning to reveal a pony tail that ended with pink tips to match her bangs.

Crowley took a long sip of his drink, leaned back, and announced, “don’t read.”

Aziraphale, about to take a bite of the Tres Leche Cake paused, fork hovering mid-air, and stared horrified at Crowley.

“Pardon, can you repeat that?”

“I don’t read.”

“Wh-How- How can you not read? No, that’s not true- I’ve seen you read the labels of the plants and soil bags!”

Crowley’s head tipped back with a loud guffaw.

“Crowley! Don’t laugh at me, you were the one trying to pass off that you’re illiterate.”

A grin spread like wildfire across Crowley’s face as he tilted it back towards Aziraphale. He shifted in the chair, flinging one leg over the arm of it in a truly improper way, and dangling the other off the side. Honestly it was like the man couldn’t sit proper in any chair. “Saying I don’t read doesn’t mean I’m illiterate Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale huffed. “Well, you sure took great pleasure in making me jump to that conclusion.”

“Naaah, honestly didn’t think you’d jump there. Just wanted to see what you’d do when I said I don’t read. And I don’t. Read, that is. I listen to audiobooks though.”

“Audiobooks?”

“Yeah. Letters can’t jump in front of each other in audiobooks.”

Ah. “Well, that’s still reading.”

“Is it? Could never tell. Everyone’s got a different answer.”

“Well, I consider it still reading. What’s your favorite book?”

Without hesitation, “the James Bond series.”

Aziraphale blinked, then a soft chuckle bloomed. “Yes, I can see that. Rather does fit you, doesn’t it? Flash, action packed, crafty, and full of gadgets.”

Crowley flashed him a grin, “you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Oh, not at all.”

“Alright. Your turn. What’s your favorite book?”

“Oh... Well... Hm...”

A few moments of thinking apparently gave Crowley his answer.

“Too many to choose from?”

“Rather. It’s like trying to pick a favorite food.” Aziraphale left enough time for Crowley to interrupt before saying, “I admit, I was expecting you to jump right in and announce your favorite food just to contradict me.”

A hand wave and a sip of his drink, “ehh, not so much a food person, me.”

“No?”

“Nah. Do you have a favorite?”

“Oh dear, well, if we’re talking desserts then it’s... hm, well, no, if we’re talking pastries then it’s- but wait, no... drat. Is it still considered a favorite if you have five favorites?”

Crowley chuckled. “Same problem as with your books.”

Aziraphale hummed an agreement, finally biting into his nearly forgotten Tres Leche Cake. The cake was as moist as he had hoped, melting almost against his tongue, softly sweet.

He hadn’t realized he’d closed his eyes until Crowley inquired about how it was.

“It’s good. Very good.”

And Crowley had smiled at that.

They talked quietly for a while after that. About light things, small things, interests and hobbies. Aziraphale found that Crowley liked to play online games with a friend called Anathema, that he enjoyed star gazing late at night (“gotta be out of the city though- too much light pollution here.”), and that as fond as he was of cats, that he was allergic to them.

“Been thinkin’ about getting a snake though.” He’d added as if that wasn’t one of the most unusual pet choices Aziraphale had ever heard of.

“A snake?”

“Yeah. They’re great animals really. Strong, elegant, some of them have the most brilliant color patterns too. I dunno, there’s just something about them that I really like.”

And after some thought on it, Aziraphale had smiled. “I think I might be able to see that. Perhaps if you do get one, you can introduce me.”

Crowley blinked at him, surprised as if he wasn’t expecting that and as if, maybe, he was a bit flattered and flustered by it. “Uh- okay.”

They talked about Aziraphale’s favorite plays, how he collects the playbills from them as his own sort of scrapbooking (“When I go back later and look at them, I can recall the play better, remember how it made me feel, reminisce... I’m sorry, that must sound terribly boring.” “No, not at all.”), and how he’s been searching to find another hobby to enjoy other than reading.

“Not that I’ll give it up at all! It’s just, I’d like another enjoyable activity to participate in, I think.”

“Makes sense to me. I’ve got plants and star gazing and video games.”

“It’s just, I haven’t been able to find one. I’ve tried pottery, which was far more messy than I anticipated, cooking, knitting, and bowling.”

“Bowling, really?”

At Crowley’s surprise he admitted, “a friend talked me into it. I wasn’t bad at it, it just wasn’t as... enjoyable as I had hoped. I’d have rather sat at home reading than gone bowling.”

“How long did you do it for?”

It was strange in a way, having someone be as curious about him and his hobbies as Crowley was. It was strange having what seemed to be a genuine friend. One who cared and was interested in him, one that had silly conversations over plays and quiet conversations in the back of a cafe over everything and anything.

“A season. She’d signed me up for the team and neglected to tell me until the first match. I didn’t want to leave them a person short so I finished the season with them while making sure they knew to find a replacement for the following season.”

Crowley tilted his head back with a thoughtful hum, the man was reclined the wrong way across the armchair. Head falling off of one arm, both his legs thrown over the other, cup held at a precarious angle.

“Maybe you could teach me some tricks for it.”

“For bowling?”

“Yeah.” Crowley scowled up at the ceiling, “don’t tell anyone but just about every damn time I go I land on my arse at least once.”

And now Aziraphale couldn’t help but picture it. And he was probably picturing it perfectly. Crowley was so tall and gangly and he didn’t seem to know how to use his hips or legs like everyone else so he could only see him going up to the line, trying to throw the ball while sweeping one leg behind the other like you always see the professionals or people in films do. And sweet Crowley with his swaying hips and long limbs, would probably overshoot and go sliding.

Aziraphale rose a hand to cover his grin. Yes, he could see how he’d go down.

“Oi. I can hear that.”

“Hear what dear boy? I haven’t said a word.”

“I can hear you grinning. Stoppit.”

Aziraphale nearly laughed. “You’re staring at the ceiling, and how would you ‘hear’ a grin anyhow?”

Crowley turned his head towards Aziraphale’s and brandished a bright grin. “Y’learn.”

The barista chose that moment to return with a refill for Aziraphale’s water and to ask if they needed anything else. After they declined she turned to go before stopping and turning back to Crowley.

“Are you still coming to pick up your order tomorrow?”

“It’s the 3rd Monday, ain’t it?”

“Just checking.”

Crowley pursed his lips, suspicious but unsure of why, “sure.”

After she had bounced off Aziraphale turned back to him and, because he was ever so lovely when flustered, teased “coming back tomorrow without me?”

Crowley blinked at him before spluttering, incoherent for a few moments before Aziraphale gave a small chuckle. “Relax, I’m just teasing.”

“Nuh-no, it’s- uh, guh...” He raked a hand through his hair, which was apparently a bad idea because he got it stuck in a knot halfway through and he started quietly cursing while trying to free his hand. Hand free and cheeks pink he crossed his arms with a huff and, not looking at Aziraphale, asked, “you doing anything tomorrow?”

Probably not. The fog was receding but he wasn’t sure he was up to customers just yet. “No, I don’t think so, why?”

“Uh, it’s, hm, easier to show you? Would you meet me here at 11 tomorrow?”

“Sure, but are we eating here for lunch or-”

“No. I mean, not that I’d say no to having lunch with you- just that- that’s not the purpose. Of tomorrow I mean. I- I get an order from here and take it to somewhere else.”

“Alright. And this somewhere else is...?”

Crowley had his head hanging off one arm of the chair and both legs slung over the other but just for this he twisted himself up, bracing his weight on one forearm planted in the seat to look straight at Aziraphale from behind those dark shades. And then he exaggerated the most dramatic wink Aziraphale had ever seen so that it was obvious even behind those dark sunglasses that he was winking. “It’s a secret.”

Aziraphale chuckled, “you wily thing. Alright, have it your way. We’ll meet here tomorrow at 11.”

Crowley smiled back. “Great.”

2 notes · View notes

lecognito · 4 years

Text

When Consent Goes Haywire

I recently came across a phenomenon called “flirting without consent”. For anyone in the 21st century, consent has become a hot word, but this concept appeared to me like the bastard child of a movement with good intentions.

There’s no denying that there’s a history of men “crossing the line”, and while we can rail on men for not “teaching children properly” or setting a good example, it’s just not that simple.

Ok, for the record, rape and assault are inexcusable. The reality is that sometimes consent is set aside and men openly violate a conduct of trust and a communication of trust (i.e. a no means no). But sometimes it’s not that, and there’s more to understand. Sometimes, a woman says no but is less insistent on that no. Sometimes a person goes along with what’s happening only to feel some sort of perceived injustice after the fact, but not during. And it’s moments like these that have proven this decade to be a confusing whirl of legalities regarding consent.

This isn’t to blame women or to defend the men who have clearly crossed a line and that’s not the purpose of this article. It just means there are more factors to consider before coining a concept like “flirting without consent” because there are deeper implications something like this has on future interactions.

Before I get into it, let me just say I GET IT. I get why this concept exists. But can we understand that flirting is an ORGANIC and NATURAL part of human interaction? It’s part of social intelligence--picking up on if someone is responding to your advances or not. It’s a way we let someone know we’re interested and a way we gauge the level of interest that someone may or may not have in us. Put guard rails on this organic process and very quickly you lose a lot of what romance and courtship is about, which in turn makes men seem inherently awkward, boring, and stale when that’s the bag of tricks that was given to them.

Of course things get tricky with flirting. Some people don’t have good social intelligence and don’t read social cues very well. And that makes things vastly more complicated. Add to that the fact that everyone’s experience of romance and courtship can be drastically different and that everyone’s preferences are different. There are women who preach that guys “need to be more aggressive” and welcome the bad boy attitude, there are some who like to be the one who leads, and then there are those who like to set clear expectations. Tone of voice during a conversation, body language, and the level of relationship that two people have all come into play. At the end of the day, everyone falls on a different part of that spectrum of experiences which informs their decisions, their ability to pick up on social cues, and how they perceive a given action or inaction. In short, things become exponentially more complicated. Oh, and that’s not even including whether or not they’ve had drinks.

The need for some sort of structure is understandable. But consent to flirt is not that. A structure like consent to flirt is essentially a form of gatekeeping—a way to justify swiping left IRL just because you think you’re not interested. We can agree that there are some things that are clearly over the line, vulgar, and inappropriate. That’s what we as a society have termed, “harassment” and “sexual harassment”. Both are obviously wrong, and consent to flirt tries to wrap the idea of harassment under the gallant flag of “transparency”. Really, it’s like slapping a Smart Water label on a bottle with your normal house tap water—it’s a gimmick, a fluffy phrase, while providing no clarity to the confusion of consent.

Bear with me here with what I think could be the worst case scenario, but with something like consent to flirt, a girl could sue a guy who came up to her at a bar and gave a compliment to strike up a conversation. You could argue that even a positive comment that was stripped of any sort of sexual or inappropriate intent was perceived by the woman as “crossing a line”. That’s how romance dies. That’s how courtship becomes a bureaucratic, robotic transaction that deems your advances appropriate or inappropriate based on whether or not you have “premium” features. Again, probably the worst case scenario.

Even so, the question remains, how can you really know if someone isn’t right for you? Feelings change. Perceptions change. And consent to flirt destroys that opportunity for learning and discovering aspects of a person you would’ve never expected to see or know. This isn’t to say that we can’t form judgments about a certain person because in a way, that’s inevitable.

When we get down to it, what a concept like “flirting with consent” and consent in general seems to reveal about the heart of our broader culture is the desire to set intentions and expectations. Why do celebrities get into problems with consent? Why does anyone get into a problem with consent? Precisely BECAUSE no one knows when or where consent is necessary. You might be saying to yourself, it’s simple: no means no. Consent seems like a very obvious thing when you put it strictly in terms of “no means no”. It’s a good rule of thumb to go by, but realistically as we’ve seen, a variety of factors complicates even a simple construct.

So what do we do? How do we mend this broken system? We need a simple construct where consent is already implied. What is that construct? The oldest form of love, courtship, and romance in the books: marriage. I know what you might be thinking, but hear me out.

Call it the idealized form or what it should be, but marriage is a covenant, a promise between two people who have essentially AGREED in the presence of witnesses, to being with each other. Keyword: AGREED—from the very beginning of anything happening. Within this covenant is a sense of trust. You have roles, you know who the other person is, and you know what to expect within this relationship. But let’s be clear: this doesn’t mean one person can do whatever they feel like or that they’re entitled to the other person in any sense. It doesn’t mean one person loses their individuality or their autonomy. It doesn’t rule out the possibility of bad things happening--they still do. It’s just that when it comes to the issue of consent, there are certain things that aren’t totally uncalled for.

Marriage maps out and clears out the murky forest of consent. You can be flirtatious, you can be suggestive, you can have intercourse—because you both agreed to it! It doesn’t mean you can’t get uncomfortable about certain things but you still have that sense of TRUST that allows you to express that discomfort openly, safely, and unabashedly. That trust and that relationship takes you so much farther with someone you know and love than with a complete stranger, where it may be awkward to voice a concern at the risk of appearing inexperienced or being a mood killer.

But doesn’t this agreement exist already even without marriage? Aren’t there plenty of extramarital relationships that demonstrate that level of agreement? Isn’t that what consent is all about? Yes, our culture of sexual freedom and companionship have applied the blueprint of marriage to relationships without the words and the paperwork of marriage. Yet that’s where it falls short--the lack of a proper covenant. The very existence of millions of relationships in this moment is dependent on a commitment that isn’t real. Sure there’s a verbal recognition of some sort of feeling of commitment but that’s all it is: a feeling. And for anyone with an inkling of experience in a relationship, feelings can and do change. If that’s the case, then commitment can change.

Marriage brings into focus a certain expectation, which is that while your feelings can change, your commitment shouldn’t. That’s the point of making vows to one another and that’s the point of “til death do us apart” even if many would consider it just an antiquated trope that romantics and movies say. Some might say that there shouldn’t be any labels on a relationship and that love is love. Sure, but is love only love when you feel like it? Shouldn’t it go beyond just a purely personal emotional satisfaction?

None of this is meant to be accusatory towards extramarital relationships or to say that marriage is the cure-all. It is however, to draw attention to the idea that “labels” if you will, help us know exactly what something is and know what to expect from it. You don’t look at a strawberry and say “I don’t like putting labels on it,” because then it becomes very difficult to describe what to do with a strawberry. Do you eat it? Do you use it as ink? Do you throw it like you would a baseball? On that note, labels help you understand what to expect: what you get from a strawberry is very different from what you get with a strawberry milkshake, a strawberry smoothie, or strawberry milk. Without a name for a strawberry or any produce for that matter, the produce aisle would be chaos.

Sure, a strawberry is not a relationship. But the same logic applies—relationships have the potential to be utter chaos without the label. A boyfriend or girlfriend who runs off is theoretically off the hook. A label-free relationship can invite multiple people into it and people do. But it breeds a nebulous and subjective ground of emotions and expectations that can’t be adequately expressed or fulfilled. In other words, there’s no consistency. And when there’s no consistency, what can and can’t be done can change. It’s your word against theirs. It’s your feeling against theirs.

That “label” of marriage gives a greater sense of security. It helps us to know that the intimacy that happened the night before wasn’t “a mistake”. It gives us emotional fulfillment and the expectation of that fulfillment. It doesn’t leave us hanging in the wind.

No, this is not a call to get married and this is not a judgment on anyone on how they pursue relationships. It’s to address and contemplate why our culture (and most probably the entire world) struggles with consent. Consent to flirt doesn’t make things any easier or any clearer in that struggle. In fact, it moves in the opposite direction of what we need. It cripples the creation of organic relationships and enables an even more confusing set of rules under the guise of honesty and transparency. Consent as a whole is crucial, but pursuing it and being an advocate for it requires us to exercise caution with careful consideration of the words we attach to it. No matter our zeal, we can’t push for it blindly. Specificity is important, but not all specificity serves to clarify.

#consent #relationship #marriage #writing #ideas

1 note · View note

algrimthestrong · 5 years

Text

@beautiful-mischief | Continued from here.

beautiful-mischief‌:

Though he had certainly had a couple of drinks - he tended not to lose himself in his cups early on as Thor often did - Loki liked to think that he was capable of composing himself enough to at least stop acting like a fool in Algrim’s presence. It was why he often drank so little in the first place, preferring to err on the side of caution and keep his faculties about him when everyone else was going wild. There was the slightest hint of a rosy flush upon high cheekbones, he supposed he could attribute that to the wine rather than his tutor’s fussing, the younger prince half tempted to scowl at the fact that Algrim was actually teasing him. The fact that he was seeing another side to his tutor, however, saved him from his ire. Loki had always been keen to see if Algrim could ever have fun, after all. For the most part the elf didn’t look much different - ever composed, seemingly distant from all the chaos and keeping a watchful eye as it unfurled - but Loki could certainly appreciate that he had dressed for the occasion, looking far more grand than he could ever recall for the sake of the festivities.

“You look rather regal yourself, Algrim.” He insisted in return, offering the councillor a similarly playful smile. “It’s almost as if you’re trying to impress someone looking so distinguished.” It was a stab in the dark, really. An attempt, albeit a rather ineffectual one, at trying to deflect his own embarrassment. Nothing about Algrim that he had ever seen indicated that he was even remotely interested in romance - but with plenty of dignitaries from Alfheim about, he supposed it was worth a little tease. It wasn’t as if the young prince was at all bothered about wooing anyone from the other court, rolling his eyes as Algrim brought up the royal twins and then promptly noticed the swarms of people around them. Including Thor, who as always had to be the first to conquer. And who could expect Asgard’s golden son to go for anyone save for a princess? At least Loki could take some satisfaction in seeing Algrim’s disapproval, his expression making it plenty apparent.

The second he heard his tutor’s query, however, Loki tossed his head away from the unfurling scene in derision and turned back to face Algrim, almost aghast that he had even thought to ask for his opinion on the matter. “As if I would be interested in either when everyone in sight is clamouring for their attention.” He retorted, that telltale flush of embarrassment returning despite how much he protested. “They are both…lovely, I’m sure, but were I to go and speak to them people would think that I was only there to try and compete with Thor.” Loki could picture it already, how he would no doubt seem desperate or like some copy-cat should he try and set his eyes on either of the royal twins. Some stubborn part of him was convinced that he could, were he even remotely tempted, but it seemed undignified to lower himself to his brothers level. Huffing out a sigh, the young prince took another sip of his drink. “To tell you the truth, I could fancy them both.” He admitted, staring down into the depths of his cup for a moment, preferring that to looking at Algrim for the moment. Though he had always been rather close to his tutor, forever seeking his praise when it came to his studies of the arcane, being so frank with him about other things was strange indeed. Strange, but…nice, somehow. Really he supposed he didn’t have many other people to talk to about matters of the heart save for his mother. “Thor makes it very clear that it is only women he prefers, and I’m not like that.” He added. “Most times it’s not the outside I care about at all.”

Loki’s attempt at flattery, while painfully obvious, was met with quiet laughter. “What do they say? Dress to impress.” There was the barest hint of a playful smile behind Algrim’s solemn facade. “All jesting aside,” he continued, having seen right through Loki’s tactic to try to get the elder to spill his secrets, “I am here in the role of both participant and formal observer. It is not often that we play host to such exalted guests. I could not have eschewed attending such an event even if I wanted to.” On any other day, Loki’s indiscretion would have earned him a lecture. Tonight, though, was an occasion for joy and merriment, and its atmosphere of euphoric excitement put Algrim in a forgiving mood. Besides, their banter was all in good humour. If Loki preferred to stay with his mentor rather than follow Thor’s example of pursuing amorous liaisons, then Algrim had no issue with it. Still, with Thor distributing his affections so freely among the female guests, one might expect Loki to feel compelled to match him. Hence, Algrim was glad that Loki had so far managed to keep his wits about him and his hands to himself. The younger prince had always been the more sedate of the two brothers, preferring to keep private matters private rather than make a public show of his love life. There was no telling what the evening would lead to, though, and the councillor would hardly begrudge him his fun if Loki chose to indulge his vices at some point during the course of the night.

Loki’s explanation as to why he refused to join the flocks of suitors trying to woo the Alfheim twins confirmed Algrim’s suspicions. He nodded sagely. Loki’s admission that he found both siblings equally appealing drew a knowing look from Algrim, as if he had expected such an answer. “It was not my intention to embarrass you, Loki.” Matters of the heart were a delicate subject Algrim had rarely dared touch upon with either of the princes. His own children had never had a chance to come of age, and though he felt woefully inadequate to counsel his royal charges on such intimate matters, he endeavoured to do so regardless. The brothers were at an age at which romantic pursuits were at the forefront of their mind. It was better to gently guide them through the rough years of sexual awakening than risk siring unwanted progeny. Thor, in particular, had already earned a reputation as a notorious philanderer. Yet, for all his efforts to charm the princess into his bed, Algrim knew that her parents kept her under close supervision. Try as he might, the eldest Odinson would need to find a different paramour to slake his thirst tonight.

“There is no shame in seeking variety in romantic partners,” Algrim responded in a tone of gentle acceptance. He drew his lips into his mouth to wet them before continuing, “I, too, care little about physical attributes. The most enticing form is without appeal to me if the mind that resides in it is dull and narrow.” Perhaps it was a mistake to grant Loki such insight into his personal preferences, but he felt that the younger would appreciate being trusted with such a matter rather than judge his mentor for his tastes. Algrim imagined there were few in whom Loki might confide, with how firmly the majority of Asgard’s warrior society was still entrenched in antiquated views of male pride.

#beautifulmischief #beautiful-mischief #thank you so much <3 #and the idea of Algrim acting as Loki's wingman is hilarious #I love it

53 notes · View notes

jamesginortonblog · 4 years

Text

No one could accuse James Norton of allowing himself to be typecast. The 34-year-old has played a vicar-turned-sleuth in Grantchester, a violent rapist in Happy Valley, and the aristocratic hero of War & Peace. He’s also number three in the betting to be the new James Bond. And he’s just about to add to his library of opposites with two new roles: the staid tutor John Brooke, who marries Emma Watson’s Meg March, in the star-studded new film adaptation of Little Women; and the flamboyant real-life figure at the centre of the Profumo scandal – Stephen Ward – in BBC One’s The Trial of Christine Keeler.

“Ward was 100 per cent the fall guy,” says Norton, sporting a dark-blue crushed velvet jacket and settling in on a chaise longue in an upmarket London hotel. The actor looks every bit as debonair as you’d expect for a man playing the high-society osteopath with connections that ran from Soho to the aristocracy. “The government needed to clear their own name by tarnishing someone else’s.”

It was Ward who introduced the 46-year-old Secretary of State for War John Profumo (Ben Miles) to 19-year-old model and showgirl Christine Keeler (Sophie Cookson) at a party at Lord Astor’s country house estate of Cliveden in 1961. It led to an affair that exposed Profumo as a security threat – thanks to Keeler’s simultaneous relationship with a Russian naval attaché.

Keeler and her friend Mandy Rice-Davies (Ellie Bamber) often stayed at Ward’s London mews flat, and the 50-year-old former public schoolboy would later be prosecuted for living off immoral earnings in a dubious case of establishment revenge. The two had contributed small amounts to household expenses. Ward committed suicide after the judge’s summing up amounted to a direction to the jury to find him guilty.

Amanda Coe’s stylish, evocative drama establishes Keeler and Rice-Davies as sexually liberated young women for their time. Does Norton think they were victims? “Ward definitely used certain relationships he had with young, beautiful women to ingratiate himself with the wealthy elite,” he says. “He also groomed them to a point… but it’s too simplistic to say he was a man who groomed young women. His relationship with these young girls was often a very positive one, he would enable them, take them out of poverty.” Keeler was from a disadvantaged background and fitted the mould of the “alley cats” Ward liked to befriend. Norton gives a terrific performance as the sleazy Pygmalion.

“I really warmed to him… you fall in love with these characters, and Stephen Ward was way ahead of his time, so brave in how he lived his life and expressed himself, his sexual tastes, his flirting with cross-dressing, in a world that was still incredibly repressed.

“And the final reckoning was that Stephen Ward had somehow corrupted these Tory ministers and it was all his fault, which is absurd.”

I wonder if Norton, the son of a retired college lecturer and a mother who taught medical ethics, is as dazzled by the truly posh as Ward was.

“Wealth or class are not things that I’m particularly dazzled by,” he says. “I am by talent.” He cites Little Women director Greta Gerwig and her partner Noah Baumbach, who made Netflix’s Marriage Story, as an example.

Norton himself is part of a powerhouse acting couple, with British star Imogen Poots, whom he became close to when they starred together in a play in 2017. They seem very happy. “It’s good,” he says, but adds, “my personal life is very normal, I have a house in Peckham, my [parents] live in Yorkshire. There's very little glamour and scandal.”

There was a little bit of the latter when his previous girlfriend, actress Jessie Buckley, said their break-up had been “acrimonious”, but Norton is far too canny to add fuel to that particular fire.

Similarly, he won’t comment on the rumours linking him to James Bond, insisting they are “based on nothing”. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have strong opinions on the series in general.

“We all know that with James Bond, large parts of it, and all the versions of it in the past, are now antiquated and it needs to be updated,” he says. “And I think that Barbara Broccoli and the producers are very aware of that. Bringing in people like Phoebe Waller-Bridge can only help.”

Might the spy be a little too one-dimensional for someone who has taken on so many interesting parts? Daniel Craig, who is stepping aside after the latest film No Time To Die comes out in April, has often seemed unhappy with the role.

“If I was to take on a franchise,” Norton says, “I would always want to complement it with something completely different.”

He has just taken on a big HBO sci-fi series, The Nevers, he says, and is in negotiations with the BBC about doing a second series of McMafia. We chat about the fact that the first series attracted a measure of criticism, including some for his own performance as Alex Godman, the scion of a Russian mafia family drawn reluctantly into the underworld. “There was an article about the three wooden faces of James Norton,” he says with a laugh.

How did he take it?

“It’s a rite of passage that you have [bad reviews],” he replies. “Ultimately, it’s an art form which is deeply subjective and you’re never going to please everyone.” The character was intended to be “inscrutable and calcified”, he adds. Nevertheless, he admits he might play it slightly differently second time around.

“Yeah, possibly,” he says. “But, then again, you don’t want to pander to the people who didn’t like it. There's so much content out there that people who don't like it can go and find something else.”

One of the factors that Norton and director James Watkins agreed upon when sketching out Godman’s background was his public school education. Norton is a public school boy too; a former pupil of Ampleforth, the leading Catholic boarding school which was found to have covered up the sexual abuse of scores of children in a devastating report in 2018.

Norton never saw any wrongdoing during his time there, but does admit to being “quite badly bullied” and credits one of the monks - a Father Peter - with helping him get through it. “I was able to go and just talk to him and he basically became my therapist,” says Norton. “I just sort of sobbed my eyes out.”

Has it left a mark? “It probably has a bit,” he says. “It’s not defined me, but it has informed who I am. I’m hyper aware if someone is being in any way ostracised on a film set, for example.”

On Little Women, he found himself on set with some of the industry’s biggest names, including Saoirse Ronan, Timothée Chalamet, Meryl Streep and Laura Dern. The film’s a deliriously romantic and sentimental take on the novel’s sibling rivalries, but it takes its duty to Louisa May Alcott’s study of the economic subjection of women seriously. “It's important for us to go back to those punctuation marks in the struggle towards equality and recognise how far we've come, but also how we're not quite there yet,” Norton says.

He and Watson were given the task of writing their own marriage vows for the film, which he says he laboured over but arrived with them unfinished to discover that Watson had already written hers and they were beautiful. He was just young enough to read the early Harry Potter books, he notes, but has only seen a couple of the films – “Don’t tell Emma.”

He plays Chalamet’s tutor – did he fancy the 23-year-old as everyone else seems to right now? He smiles. “He’s a beguiling and bizarre, unique force of nature,” he says. Norton had been wondering about wearing a suit to today’s photoshoot, but is glad he didn’t as he’s just bumped into the younger man in a Gorillaz tee-shirt and sunglasses. “Whenever he’s around, I feel about 10 years older than I am.”

Among all its bold women, I wonder if his own character – John Brooke – is just a teeny bit dull. He laughs. “He’s a little quieter than some of the other characters, but that allowed me to just witness all these great women actors. It was incredible.”

There’s certainly nothing dull or quiet about the character he plays in the film Mr Jones, which is released in February. It’s the surprisingly little-known story of Gareth Jones, the journalist who uncovered the Holodomor – the man-made famine genocide inflicted by the Soviet Union upon Ukraine in 1932-33, which is estimated to have killed up to 7.5 million people. “He blew the whistle on the Soviet Union,” says Norton. “He was the first person to go [to Ukraine], and come back and tell the world.”

In the West, the economic crash of 1929 had led to the Great Depression. “Everyone was looking at the Soviet experiment thinking, ‘Oh, it's working’,” Norton says. “They were getting into bed with Stalin and trade deals were being made. And no one was calling them out. Until this one serious, bespectacled, earnest Welsh journalist got on a train and risked his life to blow the whistle.”

I wonder if those types of films can command a big enough audience to keep getting made? He accepts that independent cinema is in a period of shrinkage, but says, “while the audience for this type of film might not be as big as a Marvel movie, we have to protect those stories because film isn't just about escapism. It's also about education.”

#james norton #little women #the trial of christine keeler #mr jones #interviews

15 notes · View notes

aeneasx · 5 years

Text

moon in the houses

Moon in 1st house

The Moon in your first house suggests that your feelings are hypersensitive and play a significant role in the definition of your personality. This is a personality that is very malleable. You make easy and quick adjustments to the demands of the moment. It's hard for you to be sure just what to do, because you are continuously in a restless state. It's also hard for you to make long-range plans because of the fluctuations in feelings. Frequent mood changes mark your personality. If you are not busy revising your goals and objectives, you are probably procrastinating and unsure about what you want to do and where you want to go. You are both sensitive and responsive to public opinion, so you are easily influenced by those around you.

Moon in 2nd house

The Moon placed in the second house indicates periodic changes in the conditions of your finances. Money and material possessions are important to you for the emotional security they bring. Because of this, you are especially shrewd and acquisitive. Your emotional well-being, in general, is dependent on material comfort. Emotional insecurity is amplified when any problems with finances are experienced, and this can have a strong impact on domestic affairs.

Moon in 3rd house

The Moon in the third house projects its influence by giving a studious temperament, especially relating to history, archeology and subjects generally dealing with the past. There is a strong intellectual curiosity and an emotional need for continual mental growth. You have a good memory; your mind is filled with a huge variety of miscellaneous details and facts. You find it difficult to handle routine or dull jobs because you must be moving about and keeping your mind occupied. You are frequently prone to daydreaming and fantasy.

Moon in 4th house

The Moon in the fourth house produces strong ties to the home, to include not only where you now call home, but more generally, the early life home, the homeland, nature and the outdoors. You may have a strong need to feel a sense of continuity with the good things from the past. There is potential interest in antiques, old houses and genealogy. Parental influences are, or may have been, very strong. The position reflects a side of your nature which wishes to be insulated from reality, and one that has very strong subjective tendencies and even insecurities. You have a very definite need for stable and dependable personal roots.

Moon in 5th house

The Moon in the fifth house makes you emotionally in touch with your personal creativity. This placement often produces an individual who is very impressionable, so you may need to be rather cautious regarding advice you receive on investments and risk-taking. The concept of security is very strong in your nature and you are particularly slow to let your children go out on their own and become independent. Your attachment to your children tends to be very much emotionally based. There is also apt to be a lot of emotions involved in your romantic relationships, so you may find it hard to break off bad relationships.

Moon in 6th house

The Moon in this sixth house suggests that you are the type of person who can be depended upon to provide a variety of services to those around you. If things need improving, editing, refining or reforming, you will be the one to give suggestions and follow through with personal effort to get the job done. You have a very restless nature and you're apt to make a number of job changes in your lifetime. You're a worrier, and you are better off in a situation that doesn't produce excesses of emotional tension.

Moon in 7th house

The Moon in your seventh house projects its influence by presenting the gift of popularity and the ability to fit in just about anywhere. You know how to react to the subtle ambiance of a situation and you often establish a rapport with those to whom you come in contact. There is a strong desire for social acceptance, and because of your emotional dependency, you may marry early. You can never be a "lone wolf" type. Marriage may be taken on to obtain a sense of domestic security, with the family background and social standing of the partner being a prime factor of consideration. You attract a partner who is moody and sensitive, but before marriage there is likely to be a great deal of indecision regarding a permanent relationship.

Moon in 8th house

The Moon in the eighth house projects its influence by emphasizing the feeling that security is of the utmost importance. You have a saving instinct for the future, almost to the extent of self-denial. You have a strong sense of duty and obligation to others. It is not unlikely that you might become a part of some movement or cause dedicated to the improvement or uplifting of people en masse. You are very sensitive to social currents and social demands. In some instances, this position may indicate one who can or does manipulate money from others. Often it signifies the likelihood of inheriting money.

Moon in 9th house

The Moon in this ninth house giving you a very receptive and imaginative mind. You're a dreamer and a thinker, and many of your ideas provoke change to the status quo. Your beliefs are strong and sincere, but nonetheless, you frequently change your mind. You have a variety of interests and hobbies and you enjoy imparting the knowledge you have accumulated on these subjects to others. There is an innate purposefulness in this placement which makes you want to guide and direct those less enlightened than yourself.

Moon in 10th house

The Moon in this tenth house giving an inclination toward a public life, and to a number of occupational changes. You are concerned with your reputation and have a strong desire for recognition. You are likely to find yourself in positions where you are called on to "feel the pulse" of the public, and to be responsive to it in some way. This position inclines toward activities related to marketing, shipping, commodities, or other fields catering to the public. You are highly self-protective, and your feelings are dominated by a desire for achievement.

Moon in 11th house

The Moon in your eleventh house shows a willingness to work in a self-effacing manner within a group, to promote a common good. You have a broad circle of friends, especially women, and you're very popular. You are naturally responsive to the feelings of others and you know how to sway public opinion. Your interests are so wide and varied that you must guard against becoming superficial. Your sense of security is tied to your relationships and to your many friends.

Moon in 12th house

The Moon in the twelfth house projects its influence in this sector of the chart. This placement gives a love of introspection and a need for periodic retirement from the confusion and business of the world in general. This placement is going to cause you to feel emotionally isolated from others since it is difficult for you to find emotional stability in other people. You are extremely impressionable and respond to subtle influences of those around you. With such a strong sense of charity, a release is needed to in some way be able to help others. There is opportunity for success in work within large institutions such as hospitals, the government, or large corporations, and usually for the public welfare. While you are subject to emotional chaos, you have serious difficulty expressing your emotions. The twelfth house Moon denotes a need for security that is often fulfilled though withdrawal.

743 notes · View notes

theyearoftheking · 4 years

Text

Book 2: ‘Salem’s Lot

Success is my only motherfuckin' option, failure’s not Mom, I love you, but this trail has got to go, I cannot grow old in Salem's lot So here I go is my shot Feet fail me not 'cause maybe the only opportunity that I got

-Eminem, Lose Yourself

The mere mention of ‘Salem’s Lot has had my brain playing this song on repeat for weeks. And after reading ‘Salem’s Lot, I’d like to point out to Eminem that it’s actually quite difficult to grow old in ‘Salem’s Lot. You’re more likely to be turned into a creepy vampire than grow old and die of natural causes in The Lot. But I feel like if I were to ever address this with one Marshall Mathers, he’d punch me in the face. So I guess I’ll just rest comfortably with my superior Stephen King knowledge.

This was my first reading of ‘Salem’s Lot, and while I enjoyed Carrie; I feel this was the book that made the Stephen King “style” a thing fans are all familiar with. I’m not going to dive into the entire plot and every character, but the format of the book, and the relationships the characters form will be familiar to all King fans. Let me explain.

Part One: The Introduction

The book is divided into three parts. In Part One: Marsten House, we learn about the lovely little town of Jerusalem’s Lot, and start feeling a creeping sense of dread every time the Marsten House is mentioned. We don’t know why we feel creepy dread quite yet, but the feeling is lurking in our stomach like a slimy gas station burrito. We also experience a meet cute between Ben Mears and Susan Norton. Ben is a writer, hanging out at the park, trying to forget all the negativity and bad juju he experienced the first time he lived in ‘Salem’s Lot. But now he’s back, living at Eva Miller’s boarding house, working on his next novel. Susan sees him in the park, and just so happens to be reading one of his books. She asks for an autograph, and he inscribes it, “For Susan Norton, the prettiest girl in the park...” The rest is history. Well, vampire, bloodshed history. But romantic history none the less.

Later on, Ben Mears references The Haunting of Hill House, which was an inspiration for this novel. He tells Susan the subject of his newest novel is, ”...it’s about the recurrent power of evil...” Art imitating life, ammiright, Steve???

Part one also gives us our first (of three!) Wisconsin references. Ben decides to hit up the local watering hole, Dell’s, where he runs into fellow boarding house resident, Weasel Craig. To hear Ben describe it, “...his breath alone could have made Milwaukee famous.” I mean... we do love and brew a lot of beer in this city. But you can imagine my disappointment when in the next paragraph, Weasel orders a pitcher of Budweiser. Gross, Weasel, You deserve to be taken out by those vampires.

Part one continues to give us plenty of local color, and describes the residents of the town (spoiler: don’t get too attached to any of them). Part one ends with some creepy goings-on at the cemetery, and some children disappearing, and later re-appearing in slightly alarming form. Oh, and a lot of bodies at the morgue start disappearing. Never a good sign.

Part Two: The Dread Explained, and the Start of Shit Going Sideways

Part Two: The Emperor of Ice Cream is when the beat drops. But before all of that, we have our final two Wisconsin references. King twice mentions a Packers Patriots game everyone in town is anxious to watch. Ok. I have questions. So many questions. How did Steve decide on this particular football match-up? We’re not division rivals, we don’t even play in the same division. The Packers and Patriots play each other once in a blue moon. Wouldn’t the Bills or the Jets have been a more sensible selection? Maybe the Dolphins? Maybe they were good back in 1975? I don’t know. I do know I personally love Packers/Patriots games because I love seeing Tom Brady pout like a little bitch on the sidelines when our inconsistent defense shows up and decides to tackle him. Repeatedly. It’s a miracle Brady doesn’t trip over that lower lip more.

But I digress. Part two is where shit really starts to go wrong, and we understand the problems plaguing ‘Salem’s Lot are the result of a powerful vampire, Mr. Barlow and his keeper, Mr Straker, moving into Marsten House. That’s right... it’s a vampire book, kids. These two keep a low profile by buying a creepy old murder house, and running an antique store full of old junk in town. As you do.

King holds true to a lot of the traditional vampire stereotypes: they only come out at night, they are burned by sunshine, they sleep in coffins or boxes, they need to be invited in, and they can be repelled by a crucifix or some holy water. No glittery, pretty vamps here. Sorry, Twilight fans. This probs isn’t the book for you.

Part two of the book is filled with creepy passages full of suspense. You know, those parts when you find yourself cringing and chanting, “No! No! Don’t crawl into the creepy old murder house during the day! I don’t care if you think the vampires are sleeping! This isn’t going to end well!” I know most people have those moments when watching movies... but this book (and King in general) usually brings out all the creepy, cringy feels for me.

So, Ben, Susan, and their ragtag band of friends begin to understand the vampire problem, and realize they need to address it before everyone in town either flees, or becomes part of Barlow’s vampire army. One member of their merry band of vampire killers is a little boy by the name of Mark Petrie. Mark lost two of his best friends in the initial round of vampire attacks, and feels guilt about this. If they weren’t on their way to his house to play with his models, maybe they wouldn’t have ended up as part of the un-dead. As a result of this guilt, Mark wants to help the grownups fight the vampires. He’s a bad ass kid. I hope my kid would behave the same way if we were fighting a vampire onslaught in Milwaukee.

King best sums up their crew of vampire killers as, “An old teacher half-cracked with books, a writer obsessed with his childhood nightmares, a little boy who has taken a post-graduate course in vampire lore from the films and the modern prenny-dreadfuls...”

Accurate af.

Part Two ends with a passage I have to share... “The ordinary fellow isn’t half so leery of the superatural as the fiction writers like to make out. Most writers who deal in that particular subject, as a matter of fact, are more hardheaded about spirits and demons and boogies than your ordinary man in the street...”

Part Three: The Real Action, All the Deaths & the Conclusion

Part Three: The Deserted Village wraps everything up. Almost all the residents of ‘Salem’s Lot are turned into vampires, including almost all of the vampire hunters with the exception of Ben and Mark. They ‘nope’ right on out of ‘Salem’s Lot and head for Mexico. Because they’ve seen some shit, and they need to live in perpetual sunshine where they never have to fight vampires again. Only, Ben can’t stop reading the Portland Press-Herald and realizes shit is getting real in Maine again, and they eventually need to go back. Poor Mark; it’s bad enough he lost his friends, had to stake both his parents, and killed the vampire’s keeper. But now he needs to go back? Ugh.

Part three also gives us two coveted Dark Tower references (because, The Beam).

“Ann Norton drew the .38 from the pockets of her wrapper like some creaky gunslinger from beyond time...”

Oh snap. It’s coming. Da da chick, da da chum!

I’ve also failed to mention much about Father Callahan. He was the Catholic priest of ‘Salem’s Lot who suffered a vampire bite despite his crucifix and holy water bath, and was last seen on a bus getting out of town, drinking cheap truck stop liquor. But we’ll see him again. ‘Tis ka.

All and all, a very satisfying book, and I’m very glad I’ve finally gotten around to reading it.

In summation:

Total King Wisconsin Mentions: 4

Dark Tower References: 2

Book Grade: B+

Rebecca’s Definitive Ranking of Stephen King Books:

Salem’s Lot

Carrie

Next up is The Shining; which is perfect since Wisconsin is expecting its first major snowfall this weekend. Fun times.

Until next time- long days and pleasant night, readers!

Rebecca

1 note · View note

weconqueratdawn · 6 years

Text

Kowalski’s #6 ~ Gradence fic

Original!Percival Graves/Credence Barebone Teen & up Fluff, awkward flirting, drunk texting, first kiss, holidays, found family

Fic Summary: Where Credence finds solace in baking and a washed-up Percy finds solace in Credence. A super self-indulgent pile of dating fluff (rating to go up considerably btw) with some food porn as a sweet bonus.

Chapter Summary: It’s Christmas and Percy is away visiting his mother. Credence gets advice from Queenie, concerns from Tina, help from Jacob, and some slightly-drunk messages from Percy.

read from the beginning on ao3

it has been Quite Some Time since i updated this O.o

more to come next week, and i have plenty of ideas for where this is going so expect further updates in the near future

Thanks to @pangaeastarseed for knowing exactly what to say to spark off more of this fic :)

(there’s more below the cut, in case it isn’t working *side-eyes tumblr*)

The bakery was closed over the main holiday period - from Christmas Eve, right the way through until New Year. It was the only reliable vacation time Queenie and Jacob could get and, with the rest of the neighbourhood businesses shut down too, no one seemed to mind they couldn’t place a last-minute order for forty cupcakes or demand a non-fat hazelnut cappuccino in a hurry as they were late for a meeting. To those who knew it, the city was changed - people went to visit family elsewhere or withdrew into their own small circles. It was quieter, less rushed; New York was on hold.

Credence thought about the kiss all the time. Percy had aimed it squarely at his cheek; his own had brushed the corner of Credence’s mouth, stubble regrown enough from the morning’s shave to scratch. And he’d lingered, just a little, one hand cupping Credence’s shoulder.

Credence had stood there rather stupidly; he couldn’t remember what he’d said or done straight after. Hopefully he’d managed to smile, or at least look happy about being kissed.

He remembered Percy’s warm brown eyes, though. That was all he could think of, as Percy had said his goodbyes and walked away.

Tina had been waiting for him inside, trying to look like she wasn’t. That had been nice - to have someone to tell everything to, what they’d said and done. Credence did his best but was sure it lost something in the re-telling - it was hard to describe the special quality of sharing doughnuts in the car or Percy’s patience while Credence chose food colourings. He didn’t mention Percy’s unexpected anger over the engine trouble. Or the kiss on the doorstep - it was Queenie who dragged that part out of him.

“And then?” she’d said, the next day, when he’d told her the same as Tina. “Come on, honey, don’t leave anything out.”

Credence hadn’t known what to say; he’d just flushed and fallen silent.

A delighted grin broke out on Queenie’s face. She clapped her hands together, and said, “Oh. I just knew it!”

Several customers looked up from their phones, newspapers, and conversations. Credence shushed her. “It wasn’t really like that,” he said. “It was just…You know. Nice. Friendly.”

“Friendly,” she said, waving her hand scornfully. “I know friendly. That man hasn’t stopped making eyes at you since you first handed him a cup of coffee.”

Credence knew that wasn’t quite true; he’d been painfully invisible to Percy for quite some weeks until he’d plucked up the courage to speak to him.

He reminded Queenie of this, and in turn she reminded him how hard he’d worked to be invisible.

“You didn’t want to be seen, so you weren’t,” she said. “Now you’ve changed your mind, look what’s happened - he can’t take his eyes off you. Honey, the thing you have to decide now is - what next? How much do you want him to see, and how badly do you want him to?”

Which had indeed given Credence pause for thought.

He knew their date had been an odd one, and that Percy’s behaviour had been less than perfect. The television had told him dates should be romantic; they usually involved flowers and restaurants, kissing in the backs of taxis, being invited upstairs for something that pretended to be coffee. Tina’s face when he’d described it had told him plenty; she’d looked bemused and worried by turns, hiding it all under a well-meaning smile.

But Credence couldn’t help feeling it had been just right, somehow. He didn’t think he could even do the other kind of date; having to remember to do and say the right thing, put away the parts of himself that others would find difficult. He was quiet, prone to sudden silences. There were innocent questions about himself he wouldn’t want to answer. The time he’d spent with Percy had been flawed, yes, but it had been real. And easy; he’d been able to be himself.

Percy had come into the bakery one final time before it closed, to tell him his mother expected him to visit for Christmas. “Summoned,” he’d said, smiling. “Irascible old witch.” Credence had suddenly wanted to ask about her, about Percy’s family, his childhood, everything. But they only had a few minutes together - the café was crammed and Credence had customers to serve. No time for another kiss, either, but Percy had given him that warm look again, squeezed his shoulder, and promised he would hear from him soon.

And he’d kept his promise. To have Percy’s number in his phone was still new; Credence had spent quite some time looking at it, wondering if he should put it to use. The only messages they’d shared (a grand total of four) were to arrange the Kraft-Mart trip and no others had followed. But, now that Percy was somewhere upstate, every day brought a new message, often more than one. Sometimes Credence woke to find messages sent late the night before, at two, three, even four in the morning.

was made to go antiquing today, never been so bored, but i could see you liking it

mother’s cronies all turned up with cake and gingerbread - literally anything that could be iced. they’re arguing over whose is best so made me judge. your expertise is sorely missed.

have you ever been trapped in a room with a dozen merry widows and a bucket of eggnog?

if i don’t make it back alive, remember me fondly

and as the most of handsome man of your acquaintance

And again, about mid-morning:

what i wouldn’t give for a cup of your coffee right now

Credence spent a good portion of each morning tucked cosily up in bed, trying to decide how to respond. Each little insight was treasured; he tried to match the light-and-breezy tone but knew he fell desperately short. There were things he wanted to say instead - the kind of things Queenie had provoked him to examine - but it never seemed to be the right time.

Christmas Day itself was a strange one. Jacob, Tina and Queenie had asked him repeatedly if he wanted to do something but he honestly didn’t know. It had never been a celebration for him; no presents, no decorations, no family gathering around the table. Only church, twice a day, to pray for the souls of those infected by pagan wickedness. Peace on earth and goodwill to all men was not something his mother had encouraged or even practiced.

In the end, it was decided to spend the day together in a kind of non-religious family celebration. Queenie and Jacob made a special dinner and they spent the afternoon watching movies and the evening playing games. Credence was able to ignore his lingering unease and join in quite convincingly.

Percy was a hot topic of discussion, no matter how much Credence tried to change the subject. It didn’t help that his phone kept buzzing or that, every time it did, his hand twitched involuntarily towards it. Queenie kept biting her lip to hold in her eagerness. Tina merely looked curious, and Jacob oblivious.

“Is that him, honey?” Queenie asked, all innocence. “Is he having a good time?”

“Where did you say his mother lived?” Tina said. “Somewhere upstate, wasn’t it?”

Faced with two fronts of questioning, there wasn’t much Credence could do to avoid replying. “I think so,” he said to Queenie. “And I don’t know,” he said to Tina. “I- I didn’t ask, he just said upstate.”

Tina frowned a little. “What about his job - what does he do for a living?”

Queenie nudged her sharply and tried to cause a distraction by handing out more cookies.

Tina rubbed her side, glaring at Queenie. “I just mean,” she said, turning to Credence, “I don’t really know him. I only saw him that one time and I’ve never spoken to him - I’m trying to figure out what he’s like, not pry.”

“Your version of ‘not prying’ has too much in common with New York City’s finest,” Queenie said. “Let Credence have a little fun.”

“We never really talked about work,” Credence admitted.

What he didn’t add was that he had the sense Percy wanted to discuss it about as much Credence wanted to talk about his scarred wrists. There was an air of disappointment about him, and he knew Tina had correctly scented a mystery. And when Tina did that she was unlikely to let go until it was solved.

Surprisingly, it was Jacob who came to Percy’s defence.

“All I know is he comes in every day to see Credence,” he said. “As much as I’d like to believe it’s for my grandmother’s paczkis, I know when a man is thinking of his belly and when he’s thinking of his heart.”

Jacob pointedly reached for Queenie’s hand and kissed it; she made a soft happy sound and her smile was radiant. Credence didn’t know anyone who smiled so much, especially not when they meant it as genuinely as she did. It still amazed him that he’d managed to find such uncomplicated happiness, so willingly shared, and exactly when he’d needed it most.

Then, two things happened at once.

Credence’s phone, ignored during the double-pronged interrogation, began to ring silently. The last message, still unread, said: you able to talk?

And Tina, with a regretful tone, said, “Yes, but are you quite sure he’s thinking with his-”

“Oh,” Credence said, interrupting her. “It’s him, he’s calling me.”

Queenie beamed at him. “Well, don’t keep him waiting, sugar.”

Credence slipped quietly out of the room, studiously avoiding everyone’s eyes. He went into the bathroom and shut the door before answering.

“Merry Christmas, gorgeous,” said Percy’s voice. It sounded quite shocking, so close to his ear. “Did you have a nice day?”

Credence sank onto the floor, his back to the wall. He was unsure how to respond to that - ‘hello’ didn’t really seem like enough.

Percy spoke again before he could gather himself. “Sorry, my mother has a lot of very good brandy and I might’ve had a touch too much. If you knew her, though, you’d excuse me entirely.” There was a brief pause, a crackle on the line which might have been a sigh. “I don’t regret calling you gorgeous, though.”

Out of nowhere, Credence started to laugh, hard. He brought his knees to his chest and hugged them until it subsided. Hearing Percy’s voice again fixed something he hadn’t known was wrong; his laughter came from relief and pleasure and other, more complicated, feelings.

Percy chuckled in his ear. Credence tipped his head back against the wall and looked at the ceiling without seeing it.

“I think I missed you,” he said. It was much easier to say so on the phone; easier than writing it in little letters which would be there every time he looked at Percy’s messages. “No, I know I did. I only just realised it.”

He could hear the smile in Percy’s voice. “Well, that’s good news,” said Percy. “I missed you, too. You would’ve been a welcome presence today - your company’s very peaceful, did you know that? Far too many people here, too many voices and absolutely none I want to hear. Tell me about your day - did you do anything special?”

“Queenie and Jacob cooked,” Credence said. “She insisted, so all of us had dinner. I’m here now, hiding in the bathroom while they pretend not to listen.”

“Ahhh, New York apartments,” Percy said. “How nice it is to live alone. You must have been well fed, then?”

Credence laughed again. “Correct,” he said. “But, I don’t know, it was weird too. I’m not used to any of this.”

“The holiday stuff?” Percy asked. “Or is this a family thing?”

Credence sighed. “Both.” It was hard to explain, even to Percy. He was grateful to his friends but felt guilty for not enjoying it more. Instead, he heard himself say, “I think Tina and Queenie are arguing about you.”

“About me?”

“Yeah,” Credence said. “I mean, you know Queenie, but Tina’s kind of cautious. And she’s been protective of me ever since- Ever since I met her.”

There was a short silence where Credence cursed himself for almost bringing that up and waited fearfully for Percy to probe deeper.

But he didn’t. “I can see her point, actually,” he said. “In her place I might feel the same.”

“I don’t think it’s personal,” Credence said. “I guess she hasn’t met you. Not that I think you should meet her or anything - just, she’s a cop, she thinks a certain way.”

“A cop, eh?” Percy said. “But, seriously, it’s good she’s looking out for you. I’m glad.”

There was another silence. Credence wished very hard he could do light-hearted conversation like a normal person - he hadn’t meant for this to take such a turn. And now they were at a dead-end and he didn’t know how to get them out of it.

He wondered instead if Percy wanted to look out for him, too, or if he’d made himself sound like too much work to bother with.

“I regretted not getting you a gift today,” Percy said, suddenly. “I would’ve enjoyed thinking of you opening it this morning.”

“Oh,” Credence said. “That’s okay, I told everyone I didn’t want any.”

“No presents at all?” Percy said, in mock outrage. “Terrible. Impermissible. Not on my watch.”

Credence laughed at him, and felt some of his worries lift.

“How about this, then?” Percy said. “It turns out I did buy you one, but was too late to send it. So you can have it next time I see you. When does the bakery reopen?”

“On the second,” Credence said. “But no, really, you don’t have to. And I haven’t got anything for you.”

Percy laughed. “I nearly said something about your company being the only gift I need but that’s too cheesy, even for me. But what about all those delicious edibles you keep giving me? I think the scales are tipped too far in your favour - it’s time I evened it up a little.”

“Well,” Credence said, “I guess so?”

“I know so,” Percy said, firmly. “I’ll see you on the second.”

So, that had been that. Percy had asked if he could call again, which simultaneously caused Credence’s stomach to twist into knots and a gigantic smile to spring to his face. He might not be much good at talking on the phone but he wouldn’t have missed the nervous thrill of it for anything.

The rest of his holiday was spent in an easier frame of mind - enjoying it seemed less complicated now Christmas had passed. It helped that the curiosity he faced was rather more patient and, after he’d shared news of the present, a little more satisfied, too.

Opening day at the bakery was very quiet - the last thing anyone wanted was more pastry or hot drinks with extra cream. A few office workers came in for coffee first thing, and Queenie assembled a few salads for them to take back to their desks for lunch. The cold weather kept nearly everyone else away - temperatures had been freezing for the past few days and everyone was expecting snow. So when Percy came in, sometime in the early afternoon, the place was empty.

Credence tried not to smile too eagerly at him but his face wouldn’t obey. But Percy grinned back at him just as widely, so Credence decided it didn’t matter. He carried with him a large paper bag.

“I just got back,” he said, placing it carefully on a stool. “So I hope you’ve got some extra-hot coffee for me - I think the car heater’s bust.”

Credence set to work and tried to sneak glances at him out of the corner of his eye. He did look a little travel-crumpled, particularly underneath his heavy coat and scarf. The creases in his shirt matched the ones around his eyes; maybe he’d had to get up early for the drive back.

“Now,” Percy said, once he’d taken a long pull of coffee and seated himself at the counter. “I promised you something, so here it is.”

He put the bag in front of him and pushed it towards Credence.

Credence smiled helplessly again, and said, “You really didn’t have to, you know.”

“That’s the whole point of a gift, isn’t it?” Percy said. “I know I didn’t have to, I want to.”

Credence looked inside the bag - it contained something large wrapped in tissue paper. It was heavy, too - he hauled it out and set it on the counter before opening the paper.

Opposite him, Percy shifted nervously. “I was more confident when I was full of brandy,” he said. “If you don’t like it, just say. I can get you something else.”

Credence found himself looking at a big copper crown; a Victorian cake mould.

“I found it while bored out of my skull antiquing. I don’t know if you can use it or if you’d even want to…” Percy stopped, and then said, “Is it stupid? It’s stupid, isn’t it.”

Credence blinked at him and looked at the cake mould again. It was beautiful; perfect. And he thought Percy might be perfect, too. Which answered at least part of Queenie’s question.

“It’s not stupid,” he said, and leaned across the counter.

This time it was him who kissed Percy, and quite deliberately on the mouth.

Read on ao3 here

previous chapters on tumblr: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

ko-fi | what is weconqueratdawn up to?

#gradence #gravebone #percival graves #credence barebone #original percival graves #gradence fic #gradence fanfiction #gravebone fic #gravebone fanfiction #gradence au #gravebone au #fantastic beasts and where to find them #fbawtft #my fic #kowalski's

27 notes · View notes

crownandwriter · 6 years

Text

Could I have a matchup? I’m sorry if this is too long, you said more info is better! So that’s what I did!

I’m an INFP (a more practical INFP tho.) Gemini and I’m the biggest RavenPuff (with a smidge of Slytherin). I’ve been known to have no filter when in a conversation, especially when making jokes. I’m not a person to become angry easily nor dislike people (though, that doesn’t mean I like everyone). I try to avoid arguing and don’t usually hold grudges, I don’t like holding them and I don’t have time for nor want that type of negativity in my life; but I’m not a pushover. If I don’t like something or the way I’m being treated, I’ll let it be known. I wouldn’t say I’m shy around new people, just quite. I’m known has the “Salty Bitch” by my friends (I gave myself that name and my friends approved) cus I will roast the hell out of them, lovingly, of course. I’m a BIG animal person! Cats are my favorite. If see a cute animal across the road I’M CROSSING THE STREET! (Of course if I see a service dog I won’t do that nor pet the dog xp) Physical touch and affection??? I’M THE BIGGEST SLUT FOR THAT PHYSICAL TOUCH! I’m touched starved and I will not hesitate showering people I care for with affection and love, if they’re comfortable with that. My parents used call me the “Little Nurse” because when someone in my family was sick I would make sure they had everything to feel comfortable and taken care of, weather it be some tea and toast or propping their feet up and putting on their favorite movie (totally had deja vu writing that sentence, weird)

Dream Career- An artists. I would love to open my own art gallery/boutique where I could sell my artwork and sell other things I’ve made, like knitted, sewn, quilted goods. And my really unrealistic dream is to travel Europe and visit famous art museums and paint all beautiful scenery and people I would see on my travels.

Hobbies- Fencing! I would like to pursue a fencing career, but let’s see what life throws at me. Knitting, of course, and I quite like rock climbing, but I don’t have a rock climbing gym near me sadly. I hope someday to create a YouTube channel and just make whatever interests me, like makeup videos (I love doing makeup) ASMR (imma a slut for ASMR XD) and random shit. I like baking too, especially baking for people who love sweets.

Likes/tastes - I LOVE TOLKIEN’S WORK MORE THAN MY SOUL AND LIFE! Imma big fashionista, but I don’t wear what’s trendy on purpose, I just pick and wear what I think is cute, which is sometimes trending. Music is a great importance to me; my favorite genre is Indie, folk, blues, oldies and alternative, like Lana Del Rey, Hozier, Woodkid, The Beatles, Lord Huron, etc. I LOVE Tex Mex, gotta love those spicy and savory foods. Pastas are my best friends and broccoli cheese soup is my soulmate❤️ I have a sweet tooth; I prefer fruity and tart sweets over chocolate-y and rich sweets. I enjoying making little things for people close to me, which can be rare. DID I MENTION I LOVE PHYSICAL AFFECTION?? Snuggling, back rub and playing with hair are my weakness (I’m happy to give or receive). My favorite studying subjects are literature and history.

This is might be odd, but for me a persons bedroom can reflect the person’s personality. Therefore I’ll describe to you what my bedroom looks like :) It’s a vintage style bedroom. The walls are painted a buttercream yellow, my vintage dresser is ivory and antiqued, I have a lightly stained oak bookshelf filled with fiction, historical fiction and fantasy books. I have a vintage rod iron bed with a homespun style quilt (made by me) it has greens, salmons, buttery yellows and creams, and touches of burgundy (my favorite fabric of the quilt has beautiful birds and butterflies all over it) I have a squeaky dust rose colored rocking armchair wear I read and I have a drafting desk where I do my artwork (obvi). I have quite a bit of bird things in my room and I have a vintage chandelier hung above my bed. My bed is always made (it feels wrong to not make my bed to start my day XD) and hardly any clothing are out and mostly everything is put away and of course, no matter how many times I vacuum, there’s always dog hair from my beloved fat old doggo, Precious.

Again, I’m so sorry if this is painful long!!

Sorry to bother, but I forgot to add on my matchup submit that I enjoy the outdoors, like going on walks (dislike hiking tho) late night campfires (with a hot cup of tea or coco👌🏻👀), and camping, but I usually stay inside (because logic).

You didn’t specify any romantic or sexual preference, so...

I ship you with Simon!

-First of all, I think someone with your level of forgiveness is good for Simon. Both of you share a similar tolerance for bullshit, wherein little stuff is pretty well forgivable, but in the face of extremes you prefer action--even if that action just means running your mouth to stand up for yourself (and/or each other).

-If blood pressure was a thing for Androids, you would make Simon’s spike. He makes a habit of holding your hand or keeping an arm around your shoulders in public so you can’t just run out into traffic after a cat or something (again). At some point, he will gift you one of those child leashes as a joke.

-Simon doesn’t have much of a music preference so you can play just about anything you want when he’s around, but he does prefer a lower volume so you can always hear one another without needing to raise your voices. As a homebody that enjoys cooking, he also appreciates your taste palette because it leaves him with plenty of options when he’s feeling culinarily creative.

-Simon is one of the most open-minded individuals you could ever meet, and for this reason, he will always support the array of various hobbies and careers you want to explore, and will even do his best to help you organize and make sure you’re set up in a way that will facilitate the best experience with anything new you try out. Also, being an android automatically makes him a bit of a tech expert and he’d be more than happy to lend a hand with your video editing.

-You can put your nursing/motherly nature to good use with Simon. He never really gives up on that self-sacrificing nature, so sometimes he gets hurt--you wouldn’t have to be a master engineer to repair him, though. He’ll let you dote and worry and walk you through the repair processes.

-And on that same page, you may have guessed by now that I HC Simon suffers from depression, and I think someone who pays enough attention to the well-being of their significant other (as you would) would go a long way to helping Simon deal with these feelings. There are going to be days where you need to sit him down for a heart-to-heart, and days where he just needs you to sit and cuddle the day away, and I think you’d be more than happy to do all of those things for him.

#matchup #submission

4 notes · View notes

shemakesmusic-uk · 3 years

Photo

youtube

Everyone needs to have Maja Kristina on their radar immediately. She is an incredible artist that is straight out of our pop dreams. Her whole self-titled EP is absolute perfection. Maja has released the song ‘Jessica’ off her EP as a single, and she couldn’t have made a better pick. ‘Jessica’ is a new take on a breakup song that we hope to see much more of. It’s written with the mindset that the person that cheated is at fault, not the person they cheated with. That is the mindset everyone needs to have! Maja sings, “Cause she seems really nice, and I think in the end, Me and Jessica could be friends.” We love to see women lifting up other women, instead of adding to the teardown. It’s a breath of fresh air. Normalize shaming cheaters, but not other manipulated women. [via The Honey Pop]

youtube

Lucia & The Best Boys have shared a new video for ‘Forever Forget’. It’s a cut from the band’s recent EP The State Of Things, it arrives alongside the news that their upcoming support tour with Dream Wife has moved back to 2022. Speaking about the video, director Rianne White says: “'Forever Forget' is a landscape of a feeling. Lucia and I wanted to create a piece of choreography that exists in a solo otherworldly space shaken up by an unsettling sensation of feeling trapped. Guarded by multiple camera perspectives, this movement sequence is shattered like a mirror into pieces and dominated by a blinding sensation of overwhelm, refracting the internal electricity of the brain into view. This video is a portrait of inner turbulence, liberated by Lucia’s untamed and magnetic expression of self. Frontwoman Lucia Fairfull adds: “The 'Forever Forget' video concept has kept completely true to the meaning of the song, 'Baby you've taken me to higher places. It hurts if it's just in my head', is the first lyrics of the chorus. The video portrays this with an other-worldly head trapped space, along with the choreography expressing a state of wanting to escape your own mind and thoughts. The lyrics throughout speak directly about wishing you still had what you once did, but having to face the reality that it is no more, and then trying to erase the memories from your head and move on. Making videos has always been one of my favourite parts about being an artist and over the last year I’ve really detached myself from the idea that I need to be perceived in a certain way and have enjoyed being more adventurous with Visuals. I have imagery almost as soon as Ive written a song so bringing it to life, and creating different characters to go with them is something I really feel helps to get across what I'm saying. I couldn't have brought these ideas to life ('Perfectly Untrue' & 'Forever Forget') without Rianne and Furmaan, and can’t wait to make more with them.” [via Dork]

youtube

Foxes has returned with news of her forthcoming EP Friends In The Corner, alongside sharing new cut 'Kathleen' to accompany the announcement. 'Kathleen' is Foxes' first release of 2021, and follows December's 'Hollywood', which will appear on her upcoming EP alongside last year's 'Friends In The Corner', 'Love Not Loving You' and 'Woman' singles. The new track is produced by Courage (Stormzy, MNEK, Ray BLK) and Charlie Hugall (Halsey, Florence and the Machine), and is an ode to her grandmother Kathleen. Foxes, real name Louisa Rose Allen, says of the single, "My grandma, Kathleen, has always given really good advice so on one visit I thought, ‘why am I not recording this?’. A couple of weeks later in the studio I happened to be going through my voice notes of random melodies and lyrics I’d saved and stumbled across her words of wisdom and within 20 minutes we’d written it with all her advice from the notes. I kept that exact recording of her talking at the end of the song. I don't think I’d be a songwriter without her." She adds, "For me, 'Kathleen' closes the chapter of the last year. Focussing on creativity during lockdown has been essential for me – it’s given me so much strength and positivity. Almost without realising, I ended up writing a whole new album. The new songs have a really different energy and need to exist together as a record. But first I need to release 'Kathleen' as it’s such a special song for me and just seems so right for now. It felt right to wrap these songs up together as an EP before the new album gets released later this year." [via Line Of Best Fit]

youtube

The Sydney-based three-piece Middle Kids release the cinematic title track and video from their hotly anticipated second album, Today We’re The Greatest, out now via Lucky Number One. 'Today We’re The Greatest' features a heartachingly beautiful performance from lead singer Hannah Joy and showcases the juxtaposition of her compelling songwriting. The grandiose and romantic notion of the song’s title is offset by the repeated refrain “life is gory and boring sometimes” which both closes the song and also the album – reveling equally in the good, the bad, the beautiful and the ugly. About the song, Hannah explains: “This is a simple song of people being TINY and our lives being FLEETING but in that we are EPIC and GREAT. It’s finding the beauty and majesty of the every day. Therein lies life and meaning. LIFE IS GORY AND BORING SOMETIMES: it’s both hectic and mundane and we have to accept both.” 'Today We’re The Greatest' is accompanied by a stunning music video directed by W.A.M. Bleakley and filmed on the Kiama costal path in Australia.

youtube

Pacific Northwest native pop singer ALITA has released her new music video 'I’m Not Your Mother'. The video is a 50's inspired homage to empowerment and subverting antiquated gender roles. It was co-produced by ALITA & Zach Nicita (VERITE, Anne Marie, MS MR), and co-written by ALITA & Grammy-award-winning songwriter Jesse Saint John (Lizzo - Truth Hurts). “I wanted to create a visual world that put the song into a little more context," exlplains ALITA. "The song has a lot of classic & almost retro influences, from the old movie voices of women to the genre-blending pop, r&b, soul production. I wrote, ‘I’m Not Your Mother’ as a reflection on my own relationships, but I also know how shared of an experience this is for so many women. I see it every day in my friends' relationships, in my own family dynamics, in media. It’s constant. So we pulled in moments from old movies & tried to sprinkle in some history into the song as well. For the video, I wanted to honor the sonic storytelling with an exploration of the modern and classic roles women play. I wanted it to be a little weird & left of center, so there’s a lot of strange Easter eggs throughout the video. We’ve evolved as a species over the years, thank God, but instead of women being expected to be a homemaker, for example, there’s still this expectation for women to take care of and take responsibility for the men in our lives. It just may look a little different than it did 50 years ago. The application has changed, but the subtleties and impact remain. My goal was to tip my hat to that in the video, and just make something that looked nice.”

youtube

Glüme's Instagram bio reads "Walmart Marilyn," offering a succint intro to the LA-based artist's DIY approach to old school Hollywood glamor. She recently signed to Italians Do It Better, making her label mates with Chromatics and Glass Candy with whom she shares a penchant for bittersweet and melodic synth-pop, the perfect backdrop for a struggling ingénue. This week she debuts 'What Is A Feeling,' taken from her forthcoming debut album The Internet, due next month. 'What Is A Feeling' was written after Glüme, who has the rare heart condition Prinzmetal angina, was informed that her emotional health was starting to affect her physical condition. Over a chugging bassline and drum claps she questions the very make-up of her existence, asking questions including "What makes me work?" and "What makes me hurt?" Not even a doctor's orders can keep her away from temptation though, with the chaos of conflicting feelings tied up tight in the song's restrictive confines. “I had a doctor once tell me my feelings were doing my heart more harm than good," Glüme says via email. "I left wanting to completely disassemble my emotions and throw them in the trash. I studied emotions from physical and philosophical perspectives to see if I could outsmart them. But feeling less wasn't an option.” The Internet is out on April 30 via Italians Do It Better. [via The FADER]

youtube

Singer, songwriter, and producer ZAND is known for their uniquely brash brand of self-described ugly pop, and the iconic look that accompanies it is almost as distinctive. New single 'Bald Bitch' is ZAND’s most compelling earworm yet, its crunchy synthesised bassline driving beneath Blackpool accented pseudo-rap and the buzz of an electric razor. It’s the fourth and final cut to be lifted from last year’s Ugly Pop EP. ZAND isn’t afraid of controversial subject matter, with previous singles tackling topics such as misogyny and the stigma of sex work. 'Bald Bitch' is no exception to this trend, with ZAND squaring up to and superficial detractor chosing to comment on their appearance. 'Bald Bitch' is the next installment in the story of an artist who refuses to cow to convention. [via Line Of Best Fit]

youtube

Korean-American musician Jessi says she hopes her new song ‘What Type of X’ will inspire listeners to be “more confident”. The singer-rapper noted that “the most crucial thing” for her is self-love and how important it was for ‘What Type Of X’ to reflect that. “I am a woman of strong mentality and for me, loving myself is the most crucial thing. If you do not love yourself, nobody will do so. On top of that, you have to be surrounded by people who give off positive vibes,” she said. “Through the song, I want to tell people to be more confident and hope they remember that being different is not wrong.” Jessi co-wrote ‘What Type of X’ with Psy, who is the head of her agency P Nation. Psy. She shared that the lyrics were originally written in English before Psy helped to translate them, adding that the duo “did not argue as much as we did in the past while working together”. The singer also noted that, compared to her previous releases, she did not have as much time to prepare for this comeback. Calling herself a “perfectionist”, Jessi added that she feels like she is not fully ready to perform the song on stage yet, although she says she’s “quite content with the single’s quality”. [via NME]

youtube

Newcastle-based trio Cat Ryan have shared the official video for their latest indie-pop stunner ‘Mary Shelley Song’. The band has this to say on the clip: “Our film student friends, Briana and Gabi offered to film a music video for us and it was the first opportunity we’d had to film a professional kind of video. The first thought I had was to have a film noir style video. I think Lucas came up with a loose storyline and the idea to have it in reverse. We all quite liked the idea of a murder plot and with some tweaking of the narrative and, with the help of Briana and Gabi, the ideas came to life.”

#videos of the week #maja kristina #lucia and the best boys #foxes #middle kids #alita #glume #zand #jessi #cat ryan

0 notes