#cadence goes broke

[daughterofcain-67]

𝐄𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 (pt4)

(Beau Arlen x Female Reader)

(masterlist)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Beau is still wrapped up in this case and he needs to contact the FBI for help. Although he’s still skeptical of this Andre fellow. After your date with Andre goes south, you find yourself into a bit of trouble.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: some backstory of the reader, mentions of a homicide crime scene, kidnapping, Andre has suspicious behavior, reader is starting to be a little cautious of Andre.

“You mean you’re going on two dates?! Y/N, I didn’t think you’d ever go on dates with two separate guys like that! Good for you!” Cadence chuckled as she watched her sister struggle with her hair.

“I told you, the movie night with Beau isn’t a date! He said he anted to make things up to me for missing last night and a different movie night was all I could think of.” You tried to explain. You didn’t want to have that kind of reputation of dating multiple guys at the same time.

“And yet you told Beau that this thing with Andre is a friend date. You know Andre meant it to be like, you know, an actual date, right?”

“Well I mean I guess? I’m just trying to get to know the guy. He’s still a stranger so what’s the harm in getting to know him and show him around town as a friend?” You asked and Cadence rolled her eyes at you.

“You need to work on your clarification skills. Although the timing of Beau’s day off couldn’t be any worse!”

“To be fair, you volunteered me for this date, remember?”

“Well I still like you better with Beau but you’re too stubborn when it comes to him. At least you’re taking a shot with Andre!”

You smile and roll your eyes a little. Of course you knew Beau was her first choice for who you ended up with but you’ve been in that conversation with her several times. Maybe it was denial but it was for the best.

“Plus, I only volunteered you because you seriously need to get out more. Ever since that thing from a few years ago, all you do is go to work, sometimes even stay late for no actually good reason, then you come home, watch your shows, then go to bed. What kind of a life is that?” Cadence asked, all you did was stay quiet.

“I know the anniversary is tomorrow, and all I was trying to do is get you to have something to look forward before you start dwelling on the past again. You can’t change what happened and I know how you get when that day comes around.”

Your jaw tightened when your sister started bringing up what happened and you took in a deep breath and continued to try and think of what to do with your hair. You ultimately decided to curl it and pull it into a ponytail, so you broke out your curling iron. Beats the typical messy bun.

“You’re just going to ignore me now?” You heard your sister ask.

“I’m not ignoring you… just soaking everything in. It’s hard for me to go out there for a reason and you know that.”

“Y/N, you should know better than anyone that what happened to Neil was out of anyone’s control. Hell, Neil obviously didn’t even have control because if he did, he would still be here. You couldn’t prevent what happened because he was stubborn and you shouldn’t let that hold you back from dating again.”

The scene flashed through your mind at what you found. Neil was a drug user and he had been one for years. You had begged him to stop because you were worried about what would happen to him one day but he wouldn’t listen. He said that he needed a high because of his stresses from work and he would always say that he wasn’t beating you or abusing you in any way because of the drugs so he wanted you to let him be.

You fought with him about it for years when you were married and one day you decided that it was just a losing battle on your end even if you still loved him and worried about him and his health. One day, you found him on your bed, leaned up against the headboard. His eyes were closed, lips were purple, a needle was on his nightstand and he wasn’t moving. You had rushed to Neil and tried to wake him up but he was unresponsive. When you called 911, the paramedics arrived and pronounced him dead on arrival.

You found it hard to live with yourself after that. Which was why you didn’t want to date anyone after that. You couldn’t lose them whether it’s through an accidental overdose or otherwise.

“He was still my husband, Cadence. I’m going to feel some kind of guilt. I should have seen it coming and I should have pushed harder to get him to stop.” You admitted.

“I’m just glad Neil and I never had children so they wouldn’t have to be without a father, or have to see him like that.”

Cadence sighed a little. This wasn’t exactly the conversation she imagined having with you when you were getting ready for the first date you’ve had in what feels like ages. Maybe she shouldn’t have even brought it up.

“I’m sorry…” She trailed off and tried to think of something else to talk about.

“Well, um… where exactly do you plan on taking Andre? You said you wanted to show him around town.”

“He said that he liked hiking and rock climbing. I thought that maybe I’d show him some places to do some rock climbing then maybe get him some gear to show him where we can hike. Maybe where Sunny and her husband had their camp grounds for a while.” You said, appreciating that Cadence was finally changing the subject.

“What time is it anyway?” You asked and you could see in the mirror that your sister was looking down at her watch.

“Quarter till nine.” She said.

“Shit!” You began to rush and you decided to forget about curling your hair. You were lucky that you were already dressed in something at least decent for this date. It was simply a dark blue pair of jeans and a cream colored blouse with a brown leather jacket.

You pulled your hair into a couple of quick braids and started doing your makeup; something light with a little eyeliner over the top lid in some mascara.

“Right, just a friend date.” Cadence smirked before she walked off to let you finish getting ready before Andre would arrive.

Beau was already at Irene’s house and CSI was there. This was probably one of the more tragic murders he had ever seen in his career. Irene didn’t deserve to go like this and Sean was just trying to help her - even though he was going about it the wrong way.

Irene had been shot and her body was lying on the carpet in her living room while The Golden Girls was playing in the background. On the wall, there was a message written in blood.

‘This isn’t over’ And there was a crown written in blood beside the message.

Beau assumed that it would be this Ace guy again and CSI was collecting any evidence they could to see if any fingerprints would match the cigarette found around the site where Ember and Sidney were found. He has to still be in town right?

“How long are fingerprints supposed to take to find out if there’s a match?” Beau asked Jenny.

He hadn’t even gone home yet after going to your house. He had to take care of this case and he needed to know that they would be able to get this Ace guy out of his town.

“If we are even able to get fingerprints, this shouldn’t take long. But we need to get the FBI involved now before things get worse.” Jenny said.

“You’re right. I’m headed down to the station to get a handle on this now.” Beau said, but he could hear Jenny’s footsteps following him.

“So did you go to Y/N’s last night?” Hoyt asked and Beau lifted a brow slightly as he walked out of the door of the dead woman’s house.

“Can we talk about something relevant please?” He asked, a little irritated. Maybe it was the lack of sleep talking.

“Was it that bad?”

“No, it’s not bad. She made plans with some guy she just met that’s new around here. I think it’s ironic that some guy comes around at the same time as all of this mess starts with the kidnappings and now a murder.” He rambled.

“Oh please, you can’t actually think he has something to do with it. He couldn’t be Ace and we don’t even have anything to have him as a suspect.” She reasoned and Beau rolled his eyes, knowing that she was right and he hated that she was right.

“No, I guess there’s not any suspicion.” He said, although he had a bad feeling.

“Anyway, to answer your question so you won’t ask me later, I went over and apologized like you said and I asked if there as anything I could do to make up for everything. I told her that today would be my day off but like I said she made plans. But she said maybe we could try for a movie night or something at my place this weekend just us.” He said as he walked to the car.

“Just so I don’t ask later, are you okay with her making plans with some guy?” Jenny asked, although she figured she’d know his real answer even if he said something different.

“Considering I don’t have an authority over what she does romantically, no I don’t have a problem with it.” He lied and Jenny rolled her eyes.

“Want company for the ride to the station?” She asked and Beau shrugged.

“Sure, why not? Maybe you can talk to Popsickle about the updates on that cigarette.” The sheriff replied.

“I don’t know if there will be any updates this soon but maybe it’s worth a shot.” Jenny said while Beau started the car.

The two of them eventually made it to the office and while they parted ways and Jenny went to talk to Poppernack, Beau went to his office and shut the door behind him. He sat down in his chair and grabbed the phone before making some phone calls to the FBI to see if this was their kind of thing.

“Hello, this is Sheriff Beau Arlen. I have a case here in Helena Montana that may or may not be linked to the Syndicate.” Beau began and he finally got in touch with an agent.

“Hello, this is Agent Harlen Sampson. I hear you’ve got something involving the Syndicate, Arlen? Whatcha got?” Agent Sampson asked.

“Nothing concrete but I do have some kind of trafficking activity involving a man named Ace. He got this kid named Sean wrapped up in this shit and this Ace guy killed his grandmother before any witness protection was established.” Beau explained.

“Ace… I believe I’ve heard that name come up. No, he’s not part of the Syndicate but he’s a part of another case I’ve been working on for the past six months. Why don’t I meet you there in Helena and we can compare notes? I’ll be on my way first thing in the morning.” The agent said.

“Sounds good, I’ll see you then.”

You had finished brunch with Andre and you both had gone somewhere to go rock climbing. He seemed to be enjoying his time so far and you were glad he seemed happy. So far you were distracted from the anniversary coming up, as well as the twinge of guilt you felt after Beau came over last night.

Once you made it to the top of the rock tower, you rung the little bell and started to swing down a bit. When you got to the bottom and unlatched yourself from everything, you started looking for Andre and noticed he wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

You started walking around and when you made it around a corner, you saw Andre on the phone again and he looked a little frustrated over something. You walked towards him and only caught a glimpse of what he was saying.

“I thought you took care of the issue. He’s caused enough attention as it is. We’ve had enough complications, now you tell me the business in Canada is failing?”

Complications? What issue was Andre talking about? Is their jewelry business in trouble? You couldn’t imagine what it was like to be in charge of something like Andre was, and you didn’t envy him for it either. But what attention was he talking about?

Andre glanced up at you and he gave a slight grin before he went back to the conversation, “Just get things under control, especially in Canada. I’ll call you back.” Then he hung up the phone and he started walking over.

“Is everything alright?” You asked and tilted your head a little.

“Of course, Love. Just some minor problems with a branch overseas. But it’ll be handled soon.”

Something felt off about his so called business issues. You wondered if there was more to Andre than you initially assumed. You just hoped that maybe you were just over thinking things. He couldn’t have been some kind of criminal. He was just some guy looking to expand his business and there was nothing illegal about that.

“Okay. As long as everything’s alright.” You said and you rubbed the back of your neck. “Hey, why don’t we go looking around for some properties? I think Tonya has some land up for sale still and maybe we can look into some options for your shop.”

Andre smiled a little and he nodded, “Yeah, I think that’ll be a good idea. But I need to fill up the truck with gas first.”

When the both of you got into the truck, he pulled up to a gas station and grabbed his card from his wallet, but he left his wallet in the car before stepping out to the pump. You bit your lip and started to grow curious.

You glanced down at the wallet and you grabbed it and opened it up before you saw his ID.

Andre Bolkonsky

It sounded Russian. Reminded you of Andrey from the musical Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812. But obviously your Andre didn’t have a Russian accent or anything like that so maybe it was just a family name and he had some ancestry in Russia. Who knew.

You closed the wallet and pulled out your phone. You typed out his name in your notes app in case you would need to do some sort of background check on this guy. Something inside of you was telling you to send a message to Jenny.

After opening up your messages, you went to Jenny’s messages and started typing.

Y/N: Hey, Jenny. I was wondering if you could do me a favor and look up the name Andre Bolkonsky for me. I don’t know that much about him and with the kidnappings that happened, I don’t want to put Cadence or anyone in danger.

Soon enough you got a response back.

JH: Sure thing! I know paranoia is a bit of a thing and I get wanting your sister safe. Does Beau know you want a background on this guy?

Y/N: No, and right now I’d like to keep it that way. He’s got enough on his plate as sheriff.

The sound of the truck door opening up broke you from your train of thought and you could see through your peripheral that Andre was getting in the car and buckling up again. Then the two of you started driving off.

“You know, you aren’t really sneaky.” Andre said as he continued to drive.

“What are you talking about?”

“What were you going through my wallet for?”

“Oh… I just realized I didn’t know your last name. I was curious and you left the wallet in the cup holder.” You admitted.

“You know, you could have just asked.” He reminded you and you started to get a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach. He wouldn’t do anything rash in broad daylight would he?

“You aren’t that upset about it are you? It was just stupid curiosity and you’re right, I should have just asked.” You said and when you looked at him, he seemed calm. You couldn’t read him so you honestly couldn’t tell if he was mad or just in his own head.

“I know you’re friends with the cops, and I know that you may have heard of some cases they tell you about. But is it really necessary for you to go through other people’s things? Come on, we were having a good time before you got all curious.”

“Look, I said I was sorry. I understand if you just want to take me home instead of looking for that place for the shop.”

“Good idea. I’ll look into that Tonya lady you were telling me about.”

You sighed and looked out of the window.

Great, you ruined a perfectly good date. Cadence would never let you hear the end of this one.

You were home about fifteen minutes later and you simply exited the car. So now you were in a t-shirt and some shorts instead of what you wore that morning. Several hours had gone by and you were watching the television.

Of all the ways things could have gone, you had to come off as untrusting. Wonderful.

When you looked outside you saw that it was finally getting dark. You knew that Cadence would be coming home eventually after she’d close the shop.

You got up from the couch and decided to go in the kitchen and make some popcorn. When you heard a ding from your phone you pulled it from the pocket of your shorts and saw that Jenny had texted back.

JH: There’s nothing on him as far as anything concerning. His family’s got a few shops, one of which is in Canada. He seems to be more of a stand in for a sibling that wants the company. I can do some other digging if there’s something you’re worried about. Heard you had a date with him, how did it go?

Before you could answer, you thought you heard a noise. You looked up from your phone and peeked into your living room and you didn’t see anyone there. Maybe you were just hearing things.

You set your phone down on the counter and you walked into your living room. Then you heard another noise. It sounded like it was coming from the back yard.

Perhaps it was nothing, and you were hoping that it wasn’t anything major. But that was when you heard a window breaking and your eyes widened. You rushed over to the fireplace and grabbed one of the pokers for firewood. You had to have some kind of self defense, right?

You gripped the brass poker tightly in your hand and cautiously walked through your halls, unsure of what would be waiting for you or if you would even be prepared for what was coming. Maybe you should have gotten yourself a gun for the house and you should have taken some kind of safety course. But none of that mattered now and you had to focus.

The sound was coming from your room and you saw that a tall, muscular figure with a black mask was rummaging through your things. But unbeknownst to you, he wasn’t the only intruder in your home.

Someone grabbed your arm that was holding the poker and pulled you into his chest before he covered your nose and mouth with some kind of cloth. Your vision grew blurry and the last thing you saw was the first man coming towards you. On his mask, you could faintly see embroidery of an ace card before everything turned black.

Hey everyone! Thank you for reading! And thank you to those of you who have been leaving comments! The feedback is greatly appreciated! I hope you all are enjoying, and there is more to come to this story very soon!

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[theageoftheunderstatement]

Alex Turner’s Interview with Rumore Magazine, October Issue 2022

Written by Stefania Ianne, translated by PaoloMasia4 on Twitter

I stand before Alex Turner, smartly casual, in a hotel suite in East London. The place has a retro charm, is filled with memorabilia, and, in the context of a city full of contradictions, is positioned in the midst of the tenements that characterize a historically working-class neighborhood. This is the first time I've interviewed Alex, and even though the Arctic Monkeys are at the height of their career, it's comforting to discover him full of enthusiasm for his work, focused on his musical world, a guy who hasn't lost his northern identity - the Sheffield accent still shines through in his cadence - or his sense of humor. Nor has he lost the little boy still in him or, at first glance, himself, despite the fame he has achieved (fellow citizen Jarvis Cocker is the obvious comparison: both achieved success previously unimaginable for someone from that city). I am summoned for the interview somewhat cryptically, like "be ready for that day, you can't talk to anyone about it until we tell you." The Arctic Monkeys have been preparing a new record in great secrecy, and by mid July very few of us know about it. The title is not even known. No one knows that the band is rehearsing for the tour within walking distance of the hotel where I meet Alex. I get my third day of interviews: only a couple of journalists each morning, so it doesn't get too nervous. 

The Car, the record at that time still secret, is being announced now as I write these words, at the end of August. The only new notes, those of I Ain't Quite Where I Think I Am, could be heard at a concert in Istanbul a few days ago. Fans either suspected something, or prayed for something to happen, and eventually someone must have spoken, rumors must have circulated until they  became deafening, so the band broke the silence. The album comes out on October 21, all the songs were written by Alex and produced by James Ford. On only a couple of tracks the credits are shared: with Jamie Cook for Sculptures Of Anything Goes, and with Tom Rowley, Sheffield musician and longtime friend, for Jet Skies On the Moat and Mr. Schwartz.  

Just before the interview, they show me a preview of the cover image and video for the first  single, directed by Alex himself, There'd Better Be A Mirrorball. This is the only information released by management. It is not much, but they allow us to listen to the record in full. The working title? Suffolk Punch. Of course, it was recorded half in Suffolk, on a historic estate, and half at La Frette, a studio near Paris where the Arctic Monkeys had completed Tranquillity Base Hotel & Casino, also frequented by such sacred monsters as Nick Cave and Marianne Faithfull. The Car has a retro feel to it, even the video has a flou effect. Alex appears as Alain Delon. The music has funky overtones and is imbued with a cinematic vein; much irony in the words, unexpected orchestral arrangement, the guitars scratching in the few moments when they surface. Is it perhaps a result of maturity? Trying to solve the puzzle that seems to be building Alex's  personality is challenging. 

From what transpires in online interviews he always has a sardonic expression on his face, as if he studies his interlocutors with a hint of skepticism. This is how he looks at me as I set up two microphones on the coffee table, asking him if he minds, terrified that the first one will act up. It's not a problem, he tells me of hearing about a reporter who compromised an interview with Altman because of a problem with the recorder. 'Imagine', he tells me, 'Robert Altman.' And so we start with the interview, quietly, with a bit of small talk to break the ice. As he answers my questions Alex seems almost possessed by what might be called an ocean of words. His answers are always precise and to the point, though I manage to wring at least a couple of spontaneous smiles out of him. Alex chooses his words carefully, you get the impression you can hear him thinking, often seeming to get lost in his thoughts, trying to put into words and stem the maze of ideas, thoughts and sounds that populates his mind. As we begin, Alex seems fascinated by the locked windows overlooking the tenements: 'it's all very English,' he tells me. 'It's locked but if you can still get out on the balcony you don't disturb the neighbors.' 

Yes, perhaps they mean: don't do anything obscene! It's typically London, the juxtaposition between the luxury hotel and the surrounding tenements. 

That's right, and then within walking distance you have a park, a huge outdoor space where you have a chance to create a mental space that can make you forget you're in the city. I started to appreciate parks recently, I used to underestimate them. But actually all that space, all those trees, give you the feeling that you can reset everything. Apparently it's the color, the green, that  has this great calming power. 

I read that all the greenery in London is due to William Morris, a Victorian design genius. Today not everyone remembers his struggle to take parks out of the clutches of speculators who wanted to build everywhere. Sorry I'm digressing. Let's talk about you instead. 

If we must! 

Your new record is ready, at this very moment it has not yet been announced, there is a lot of secrecy. Do you feel ready? How do you feel about the new songs? 

It is very strange for me, the main feeling is that it is finally happening, and I am very slowly losing control, I am letting go. I feel like I’ve been working on this for an infinite amount of time, and now we’re almost ready to play on a stage again, we’re trying to figure out how to play these new songs live, and it’s only now that I'm starting to talk about them with other people that I’m realizing that I can understand them more deeply, I’m learning them. In a general sense I am very positive, but it is very difficult to let go. 

I know you are a perfectionist, you work a lot on your lyrics and music, you write and rewrite, it is never good the first time. Do you fit into this description? And how much does your immediate musical instinct count when you compose? 

It is true that I am constantly rewriting and modifying the initial idea several times, but although the process is long and laborious, at first instinct is essential to preserve the original idea. Instinct guides me when I have to decide whether to rewrite a part or it tells me not to be too cerebral, not to overthink it. 

You have to try to find a balance between the two components. 

Yes, but maybe it is not possible to do that, you can only try. At the same time I like the idea of doing something that can be completed within a week. A project, something you can experiment on. 

And have you ever done that?

No, although.... no, I don't think so. Maybe there is some song among all the ones recorded in the last 15 years that somehow came instinctively, no famous songs though. 

I don't think there is a mathematical formula for creating hits. You guys have never limited yourselves to the formula that brought you success, you have never repeated yourselves, you are constantly evolving. It seems to me that this is something natural, not forced. You started very young and are still growing as a band. And is your audience growing with you? 

That remains to be seen. I guess I'm reluctant at the thought of having to admit that I’m growing up (he laughs, nda). But I guess sooner or later I will be forced to accept it. It may even be fun as an idea. There’s a lot of irony in the new record, there’s an unserious element to it, I like to think that our records communicate the idea of maturation but I hope that doesn’t mean we’ve become difficult to listen to. Maybe this process of evolution, this maturation, is helping me understand when I need to listen to my instincts. It’s helping me understand when I’ve created tunes in more to my mood of the moment, allowing me to explore. If it didn’t, we would probably go back. But even if I wanted to do that, even if I wanted to make a record that sounds like the ones we were making ten years ago, I don’t think I could. And even if sometimes, maybe on a free afternoon, I tried, I perceive the same invariable trajectory in me: after the initial excitement, due to the fact that I’m reminded of that period of my life, the excitement fades very quickly, like a soap bubble, and all that’s left is a guitar riff that sounds like a caricature, an imitation. After that there is nothing else, nothing left to work on, nothing left to process. Whereas the sound we create in the moment speaks to me, conveys something, fills me with possibilities. 

It is a familiar feeling that you describe, but if it helps I can assure you that your last two records, although musically more complex than your beginnings, are still enjoyable. Let's talk about rock'n'roll instead. Are you still a rock band? What does it mean to be a rock band in the second decade of the 21st century? 

Yes, there is no doubt about it. I'm half serious right now. 

I was wondering how you would respond because certainly many people consider you a typical rock band, and perhaps consider Tranquility Base & Casino, your previous record... 

... a mistake! 

I would say more of a fluke, a temporary detour. Many are probably hoping with the new record to finally have the real Arctic Monkeys. For me, however, it is an evolution, and after listening to The Car it seems to me, as you said, that there is no turning back. 

I definitely haven't found a way back yet. You see, I've spent the last few weeks rehearsing with the band, we are preparing for new concerts, and I can assure you that when we play together live we are definitely a rock band. So on the one hand there's definitely this live power, and on the other hand there's what I want to do on the records. 

Are you editing the songs from a live perspective? How are you integrating them into the rest of the set?

I think they're going to work, we're rehearsing two songs. This question was discussed on the previous record, we were wondering how we could integrate the new songs into the set list. At first it was difficult to transpose the songs for the stage.... I say stage like you're doing a damn Broadway show (laughs, nda). 

Why not? 

Yes, indeed. That would be a surprise. I was saying, at the end of the tour of the last record, after going through that whole process, we realized that the songs we were playing live had leveled out, had equalized, and had integrated harmoniously into the show. Because when you go through the filter of the live show, especially if you’ve been doing it for such a long period of your life, 15 years or something, you can't play I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor the same way you did when you were a 17-year-old novice anymore: the vocals don’t sound the same anymore, and my arms would get tired doing the song that way. But really you don’t even notice the change, you don’t wake up one morning and say ‘we’re going to play it that way now,’ although maybe in some cases the choice is conscious. It is a gradual process. In the end, however, the songs have a life of their own after the record is released, they continue to evolve over time with millimeter adjustments. In short, it happens with all songs, and as it happened with the songs on the previous record, the same will naturally happen with the new songs. 

You are preparing for the new tour, I know you are starting with some festivals around the world before releasing the record. What will you do with the new songs, will you still keep them secret or will you start playing some of them? 

Maybe we will try to play a couple of them, but for the most part we will play old songs. 

Matt Helders, your drummer, had announced more than a year ago that you were busy with the beginning stages of writing a new album. Did you start working on it at that time then? 

Maybe the year before, in fact the first song I wrote for this album was probably in 2018, it was summer. I'm talking about the very first musical ideas. 

So they are not the result of the pandemic. 

Not entirely, no. I think the pandemic period mostly gave me time to think thoughtfully, I allowed myself a moment of reflection, but the composition of the pieces was well underway by the time...  (pauses to think about it, nda). 

Everything stopped. 

Yes, exactly.

It seems to me that all the creative people spent the pandemic writing and composing, and  quite a few records are coming out now because many people preferred to wait until things normalized a little bit. In your case, how did it go? Did the forced hiatus or the distance between the various band members affect the final result?

We have actually been living in distant places for a long time. But when we get together we stay together. This time it was not possible to meet up until last summer, when we started playing  together in the middle of the English countryside, in Butley Priory, in Suffolk. Almost all the parts of the band were recorded there, I then recorded my vocal parts and some overdubs in France, in  La Frette, but I had been working on the composition much earlier. I think that long break gave us time to experiment and explore all the possibilities and then realize that maybe it would be better to go back to the initial idea, however, it left us more time to figure out what was the most natural path. 

And where did the concept of The Car come from? How did the car become the dominant theme of the record? 

Yes, this time it is the car, in the previous disk the moon... The decision to give that title came from a couple of considerations: first of all, I realized that the automobile recurred in the lyrics, but more importantly there was this image, which then became the cover of the record. It’s a photograph taken by Matt, our drummer. When I saw it we are talking about a few years ago, I had a very strong feeling that it would become the cover of one of our albums. And The Car was the perfect title for the photograph as well. I saw a lot of things in that image, an expression of Matt’s creativity as well. I can’t say why such a thing moves us or affects us in such a special way, but that one affected me so much, and I don’t think it’s because I know Matt. And from a technical point of view it is perfect, Matt is very talented and photography is an art that he has been exploring over the last ten years. I think he’s very good at it, and that image conveys something deep to me. Somehow I see Matt in that picture. 

So it was the image that inspired the record, the initial starting point? 

I think so, in some ways it was. If you already have an idea of the way you are going to present something visually you feel better, you feel freer because you got what you wanted in the initial stages instead of reducing to the last minute. For example in the case of the previous record I found myself right up to the last minute trying to improvise cardboard models for the record cover. But probably getting something concluded in itself in the early stages of the record gave me the freedom to explore that concept. 

Speaking of the visual part of the project the first video clip you directed, that was your first experience as a director, wasn't it? How did it go? I must say that your music and the whole record are very cinematic. And the video is very melancholic.  

Yes, I spent most of the sessions, last summer, with the camera in my hand. 

Is that the same camera that we see in the video for Four Out Of Five? 

It's very similar, that was a Bolex and it belonged to the cinematographer who shot the video. I don't have a Bolex but mine is a 16 mm as well. To get back to your question, I have to say that in a way I spent a lot of time thinking about the songs before I got into sessions with the band. It is not as simple as I am about to describe it.... Or maybe it is as simple as that, I don’t know. But thinking back on it now, after working on the songs, after continuing to write and rewrite,  chiseling until the last minute, until it was time to go into the studio, as soon as we started the sessions I picked up the video camera and started filming everybody. Then they all left and I went to La Frette to work on the music again, to record parts. But the time with the group I feel like I spent most of it with the camera in my hand. And it's not because I had just recently become interested in video; in fact, it’s been quite a while since I started using Super 8. It probably became one of my obsessions. And I didn’t start filming with any specific intention, it just seemed like a natural thing to do the moment we all saw each other again, I started filming everyday trivialities, us leaving a room, things like that. And then it all turned into something else again, the video clip of the song.

You seem to be fascinated with analog technology. Maybe because digital sound gives the impression of flattening the music a bit? How do you approach technology, are you looking for a somewhat retro sound? Or are you fascinated by the environment in which you record, its history? What is your reason for returning to La Frette? 

As far as La Frette is concerned, certainly I am fascinated by the place. They have a nice set up but it's not about the technology they provide that you return there, it's mostly about the place, the people and the vibe it gives off. If we talk about instrumentation, when I record solo, yes, I am very attracted to the analog format.  

When you start composing from a piano or an acoustic guitar for example? 

Yes yes, or bass guitar, although actually it is the drums that is the instrument that helps me the most. I like to sit at the drums and think about the words, which may sound strange. But sometimes the distraction triggered by randomly playing the instrument, or the sound of the tape  rewinding in the tape machine ... I feel that in the moment you wait for the tape to rewind, in that very important little analog time window, you can process it. At the same time when we  composed the string parts we used a midi controller, a Midi Grid, and spent a lot of time on the computer. At one point in the past I said to myself that everything should absolutely be analog, but today I realize that things have changed. I’m definitely not analog when it comes to editing video. I haven’t yet gotten tangled up with cutting and pasting reels, although I really like the idea. 

I guess technology gives us the freedom to choose the technique or medium that allows us to focus on the process in order to achieve the desired effect. 

Yes, I think it does. And as far as the flatness of digital sound compared to analog sound, I think it all depends on the instrumentation and who processes the sound. Some people produce incredible sounds on the computer. 

And how do you listen to the music you like? 

Let’s say I've been taking a break, but now that we're going back to traveling I think I'll be able to  carve out the space and time to put my headphones on and listen to some music digitally. When I'm at home I listen to records.

It seems to me that The Car continues the discourse of Tranquillity Base Hotel & Casino. The sound on the surface seems controlled, measured, restrained, and at the same time there are orchestral arrangements that seem to go in an opposite direction. Were there specific musical or cinematic influences in that regard? There is something that brings to mind 70′ TV series on the one hand, and on the other hand there is an almost Beatlesque classicism. 

Yes, of course. I’ve definitely brought up David Axelrod in the past, I've often talked about his influence on my music, and it shines through here as well. As far as classics go, there’s a Nat King Cole song, Where Did Everybody Go, that seems perfect for film, even though I don’t think it’s part of any soundtrack, and it has this element of theatricality, of drama, literally, that I really like, I think in addition to echoing in the lyrics this thing also comes through in our sound. The idea is kind of to have a narrator who is aware of his own role, aware of the fact that he is on a record. Take the movie ‘8 e mezzo’ by Fellini, that movie is about a director looking for inspiration,  and a theme for the movie he has to make. That idea has always fascinated me. Actually the film is not really about that, it’s a bit of an excuse that allows Fellini to explore other ideas. I think there is a little bit of that in our album, though. 

So you're telling me that this idea of ‘record within a record,’ this Fellinian element, implies the presence of an external narrator's point? Or is it actually a personal record? 

I think it's a little bit of both. 

Or maybe you prefer to leave it to the interpretation of the listener? 

I think it has to be that way, there is no choice. But at the same time I’m not trying to hide: you can be in tune with your emotions and what you’re trying to express without the record necessarily becoming a diary. Yes, a record can be both, you can separate yourself from your idea. The presence of a narrative voice probably allows you to reveal yourself more than you imagine. It is possible. 

And to what extent do you think success, being famous, is changing you? In what ways do you try to protect yourself and your friends - the band was born from a group of very close friends, right? - from the more toxic consequences of notoriety? 

I think the fact that we are such close friends, in a way we are family, helps me cope with everything. 

It is a relationship that has remained unchanged over time, therefore. 

Yes I think so, without a doubt, and not only that: it gives me the confidence, the security and the encouragement I need to grow artistically, creatively. 

Even though you live mostly in the United States, are you still in touch with your place of origin, Sheffield? I know that during the worst phase of the pandemic you were very active raising funds to help small venues like the Leadmill. I guess you know that it is in danger of closing  permanently; it must have been a very important place for the city. 

I haven't been to Sheffield for a long time, but I'm going back there just in these days, I'm looking  forward to it. I had heard about the Leadmill, yes. Absolutely yes, it was a key place, we saw an endless number of bands there as teenagers. It was the first place I crowdsurfed, as a spectator or maybe even from the stage.

#interview #translation #arctic monkeys #alex turner #the car era #rumore magazine 2022 #saving the full text here because i love this interview a lot #his thoughts about songwriting and performing in all the recent interviews are enjoyable to read #and i love how he talked about finding the balance between following the instinct and constantly rewriting here #also it's the first interview where he talked about the name and cover of the new album in detail #and the fact that he had the feeling that matt's photo would become the cover of one of their albums a few years ago is lovely

[deans-baby-momma]

LAW AND LOVE

A/N: Just posting to see if there is any interest......

"You've got to be kidding me!" I groan as I eye the deflated tire on my car. "I don't have time for this. Seriously!"

After my 10 hour shift at the restaurant, the last thing I wanted to be doing at dusk was changing a flat. I was exhausted and just needed a good soak in the tub. With a large glass of wine. Red. Hell, forget the glass, give me the whole dang bottle. 

I press the slide key in to unlock the trunk and open the hatch to pull out the spare and jack when I see shattered glass on the ground around my vehicle. The fucking passenger window is completely busted.

"Oh fuck me!" I sigh as I leave the rear of the car to go inspect the damage.

Looking through the window I can see the center console is up, where I kept all my spare change and different odds and ends. My console is the equivalent of a junk drawer in someone's home. The glove compartment is not only open but hanging precariously from its hinges, the contents scattered across the seat and floorboard. 

"What the hell…." I ask no one in particular as I pull my phone out to call 9-1-1.

"Helena Emergency Services," the operator answers after a half ring.

"Yes,  I need to report a break-in and request police assistance."

"What's your address ma'am?" 

"I'm in the parking lot on 3rd and Independence.  Someone broke into my car," I explained.

"Okay, I have an officer in the area and have paged him to your location."

"Thank you," I sigh as I run a hand down my face. This is the last thing I need to happen!

"Ma'am, do you need me to stay in the line? Do you think the perp is still in the area?"

"Uh…..oh….um…I don't know," I say as I scan the area. "I don't think so. It's pretty deserted right now."

"Okay. The sheriff is only about 2 minutes away so if you feel safe, I'll go ahead and hang up."

"Yea," I smile in thanks, although I know the operator cannot see me. "Thank you for your help."

The line goes dead and I slip the phone back into my pocket and cross my arms as I await the cop coming to take my report.

Wait, did she say Sheriff? Even though this screws up my day I didn't think it was crucial enough to elicit the Sheriff. I'm sure he has more important things to take care of than a car break-in. But she did say he was in the area so maybe it's just a case of who was closest. 

I kick at the gravel and small shards of glass as I wait. In no time at all, an older model faded red truck pulls in. I can see there is only one occupant in the cab and I hold my breath, hoping and praying that it's not the perp coming back.

I watch warily as the man in the pickup parks and gets out. He steps out of the truck and I hold my breath as he reaches back into the cab. Is he grabbing the weapon that will be my demise?

Thankfully, he pulls out a beige Stetson and proceeds to sit it on his head. As he approaches, I can't help but notice his bow-legged cowboy stride. How appropriate for Montana.

I let out a shaky breath as the badge on his belt shines in the early evening light. 'Oh thank God, it's the sheriff!' I tell myself.

"What seems to be the problem sweetheart?" he asks and I swear to the heavens that every bone in my body melts at the cadence of his honeyed voice. 

'Problem? The only problem I have is you're not inside me, fucking me raw.'

I clear my throat and my gutter of a mind and try to remember what my original complaint was. As the sheriff steps closer, I hear the crunch of glass under his boots and it dawns on me.

"Someone decided to break into my car," I tell him as we both survey the damage. I can't stop myself from sneaking glances in his direction. He was a very gorgeous man (can you call a man gorgeous?) His bone structure is impeccable; his profile is perfect. 

“Have you noticed anything missing?” he asks but I can’t seem to pull myself away from staring. When he turns his head and his forest green eyes meet mine, I realize he’d spoken to me. Is that a smile in his expression? Can eyes smile? 

“Oh…um…what?” I respond, embarrassingly. 

“Have you noticed if anything has been taken, Miss……?” he questions again, subtly asking for my name. 

“Oh, uh no?” I answer, not sure because I hadn’t really been paying attention. “And you can call me Y/N, Officer.” Two can play that game.

“Okay. Well, Y/N. I’m Sheriff Beau Arlen but you can call me Beau,” he replies. “Is there anyone with a vendetta against you? Anyone you can think of who might want to cause you trouble?”

“Just an ex in a couple states over,” I say with a shrug of my shoulders. “But I doubt he’d travel all this way. Too much work and it would take away from his hobbies.”

“And what hobbies would that be?”

“Other than sleeping with anyone other than me, he plays online video games. He has made it his life mission to conquer every player alive.”

“Well Y/N, I must say this ex of yours sure seems like he’s got a few screws loose,” Beau tells me, looking straight at me. 

“More than a few,” I laugh. “But yea, I seriously doubt he’d put the energy into coming to Helena to break into my car. Hell, he doesn’t even know what kind of vehicle I drive now anyways.”

“Okay, so we can rule the idiot ex out,” Beau determines. “Anyone else?”

“Well, I’ve only been here for a little over a month and other than a pissy customer, no. But I don’t think it would warrant this.”

“Hmmm, so we moved to town at about the same time, huh?”

“You’re new too?” I ask, with a tilt of my head. “How did you become Sheriff so quickly?”

“I’m the interim sheriff until the actual sheriff gets back on his feet,” he explains and then pulls out a notepad. “So I’m guessing I need to take down some information.”

I nod as I contemplate the way he swiftly transformed into his Sheriff role. ‘What is he hiding? He shut the conversation down quickly and deftly.’ I give him my contact information and a list of what I could remember that was in the vehicle, then he offered me a ride home; which I took because my new home was on the other side of town.

@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss @spnbaby-67 @tftumblin @sea04056140561 @delightfullykrispypeachch @larajadeschmidt133 @atc744 @vicariouslythruspnspn @squirrelnotsamm  @sandlee444 @blacktithe77 @hoboal87 @mogarukee @deanwanddamonsns @supraveng @deandreamernp @akshi827878 @lyarr244 @kazsrm677 @chriszgirl922

#law and love #jensen ackles #big sky #beau arlen #montana #helena

[solradguy]

hi! can you tell your whole process for learning japanese on your own? where did you start? what resources did you utilise? how did you find and manage your time and maintain discipline? also, how long did it take you to reach fluency?

I am sooooo far from fluent hahaha I'm stumbling through this language Gromit-style

Ok, so, circa 2014 I was studying Norwegian because I really wanted to learn a secondary language (thx American school system...) and I really liked the cadence/feel of Norwegian. That was my entire reason for studying it, I just liked how it sounded lol. But by 2016 I'd learned enough of it from Duolingo that it was time to move on to more difficult study materials.

Which I could not find for the life of me.

I got frustrated and decided it'd probably be best to pick up another language. Japanese was the one I saw the most since a lot of my favorite artists are Japanese, some of my best inking supplies come from Japan (with Japanese packaging), and there used to be a really good local Japanese restaurant too (RIP). Duolingo had just launched an absolutely shit Japanese course that motivated me to look for better practice materials.

I think I started practicing the kana through just writing them a whole bunch before finding out about Tofugu's hiragana and katakana mnemonics-based study articles. From there I did the three free levels offered by Wanikani. Wanikani is awesome, I learned a lot through that program and wish the full version one-time purchase was more affordable... It's worth it, I'm just broke haha

After a while I lost interest in studying Japanese because it's so difficult/time consuming and tried out reconstructed Classical Latin (HARD!), Norwegian again, and just barely dipped my toes into Esperanto. About a year before I got into Guilty Gear (2020), I picked up Japanese again by refreshing my progress on Wanikani. The Duolingo course still sucked but it had gotten a tiny bit better with its kana study tool, though I dropped it again before long. What helped the most this time were books. I tried out these:

Genki - Not bad. I liked how it broke down parts of grammar. However, it's definitely written for a classroom setting. The topics/vocabulary were all school themed and, on top of feeling like I was missing vital information by self-studying, it just got boring.

Tae Kim's Guide to Learning Japanese - This has a physical version but I read it through the free app/website. Much more advanced than Genki, but made for self-study and as a grammatical reference tool. It went a bit over my head and was too fast-paced, I learn kinda slow... Now that I'm much better at Japanese, I should try it again.

Japanese From Zero - My favorite of the books I tried. Goes slower, made more for self-study, and has some free supplemental materials on their website.

While Japanese From Zero was working great, I was losing interest again because my brain CRAVES variety. Straight up translating stories has helped me more than anything else. Japanese Short Stories for Beginners by LingoMastery was a good investment alongside Barron’s Japanese Grammar by Carl and Nobuo Akiyama and Japanese Verbs & Essentials of Grammar by Rita L. Lampkin to help with grammar concepts Japanese Short Stories doesn't expand on enough. IMABI (website) is also a very good grammar reference guide. It can be a bit dry, but I like that. It doesn't waste time and is very direct.

Lingodeer has been invaluable too. The free version is smartphone app only, but that's fine since I usually study right before bed anyway. It has a 5 minute quiz that's just snappy enough to refresh my knowledge without being so long that my brain gets bored of the repetition. The lesson modules also do a really great job at explaining grammatical concepts. There are some other study tools, like specific ones for practicing grammar and vocabulary, that I like.

Then in 2021 I got into Guilty Gear. Boy, did I get into Guilty Gear. Translating GG books has helped me more than all of these other materials combined (except the Tofugu kana articles). HIGHLY recommend going a little crazy for a piece of Japanese media if you wanna learn the language.

I can't speak it for shit though, to be honest lmao. But I set out learning it to read things so that's fine; there are very, very, few Japanese speakers where I live anyway. What I mean by this is that I don't have any materials to suggest for learning how to speak it or to improve listening comprehension, sorry...

If I'm not currently working on a translation project (which counts as studying!!), I try to do at least one of these forms of practice each day:

10-15 minutes of Lingodeer

Do Anki flashcards until I get bored. There's a deck that's all 60 levels of Wanikani, though Wanikani itself is still better.

Practice kana stroke order for the ones I still sometimes struggle with （ツ、シ、ン、ソ......）and at least 5 kanji

Read something in Japanese. Lately this's been Japanese-English Translation: An Advanced Guide by Judy Wakabayashi

There's a page on my Neocities with some study tools but it needs updated with a few things I've since found that work better:

#asks #long post

[maddipoof]

One half of the world cannot understand the pleasures of the other 🪐- pick a character and come up with a prompt and I’ll write an angst blurb <3

steve harrington (are you noticing a trend?) + the prompt "so this is goodbye?"

I honestly did not think I could write angst but I’m pretty happy with this one <3 ✨

"Steve, come on, hey, please. Don't leave."

"What choice do I have?"

"We can figure it out, please?" You're on the verge of tears at this point. He's already gotten half his mind out the door and he's still 3 steps away from it; and you can't bring him back.

He hasn't looked you in the eye since you chased him downstairs, the way your voice was slowly breaking was tearing him apart, knowing that he caused it.

He wanted to say your name, wanted to address you properly for what may well be the last time, but if Steve Harrington is going down, he's going down swinging. "Sweetheart"

He's reaching down your throat and trying to rip your heart out. "No, please don't."

"You've gotta let me go."

"Your dad can't–Steve, he doesn't own you."

"Don't bring him into this."

Oh– so he's doing this on his own, that's what this is. That was the tipping point, the dam broke, vision blurry, deep breaths marred by an involuntary staccato. Not sobs, he wouldn't get the satisfaction, or whatever it was he was looking for that would make him end a 14 month relationship out of the blue, under the guise of a new job in another state.

You'd go with him, he knows you would.

"How can I not? Could you just– christ, could you just look at me?"

He still stood with his gaze on a fixed axis from the door down to the 7 tiles leading to it, occasionally rubbing his forehead every so often. He looked up and he wished hell upon himself for even thinking about doing this to you. He was protecting you. Vecna may be gone but Dick and Candace Harrington are forever. He looked right back down, hardly meeting your eye for even a second.

"When's your flight?"

Whatever he was before, he was scared now. Through your tears and his mistakes, your voice took on that cold cadence it did when the elders of the Harrington clan started assaulting you with questions about your work, when you’re settling down, snide comments about your hair, your clothes, your major, any of it. He knew you’d go with him. He knew you’d suffer through every dinner party with a bright smile and stiff answers. He knew he couldn’t ask that of you.

“Sunday, 4:30.”

“So you’re just leaving, just like that? You’re not even gonna try?”

“What is there to try for!?”

Oh— you tried to swallow around that lump that felt like one of the fat chocolate covered strawberries he’d just bought over reformed in your throat. “I—“ You closed your eyes and you couldn’t help the way your face drew in, only to relax on the third slow exhale. “You should go.”

“So that’s it then?”

“You want me to fight for you now?! No, no I’m not going to fight for you when you’ve just given up fighting for me. Please just—“

He crossed those 7 tiles and got one foot out the threshold before turning around. “If I ever come back…” You couldn’t even fathom the idea. What was he even asking for? He comes back from god knows where, not for you, but he’ll make a pit stop to buy you a drink? He goes west young man, and comes back with his great fortune just in time to pick you right back up. An open book, forgotten on the coffee table. You could only shake you head. “So this- so this is goodbye then?”

You didn’t mean to sound bitter, you tried with every last ounce of your dwindling strength. Turns out you’re weaker than you thought. “You’re the one leaving.”

The face he made. If he hadn’t just pushed your own heart into your own hand and squeezed, you would have held him so tight, dropping to both your knees in the foyer, rocking side to side, stroking through his hair.

He said your name, a whisper, a breath, he knows “I’m sorry. I love— I love you.”

“I know.” You smiled something melancholy, and you didn’t care how loud the lock clicking behind him was.

@new-romqntics @sw34terw34ther @beezywriting @loving-and-dreaming

#cleo🌸 #dell’s moots #dell's fics #della celebrates 100 #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington angst

[lithium-poet]

I don't think D is doing too well.

He got a call from his sister the other day when we were conversing and killing time together in the music room. He picked up the phone, still smiling from our exchange, but his eyes were soon overtaken by a disquieted look. I stepped away the moment I sensed that it was of a personal matter, so I didn't know the exact topic of their talk.

I didn't care what it was about, for that matter, but I care about him. I care about the wistful light that shimmers in his hollow eyes as he eyes glanced over at me when I re-entered the space after he'd hung up. I care about the blunt tension in his voice when he greeted me - it's the kind of tension that a guitar string has when it's tightened to the point where you can feel it dancing on the edge of breaking.

I care, I care, I care. And I think he cares that I do.

We went back to chatting about school, which seemed like nothing but insignificant prattle now. We could clearly both see the elephant in the room that we couldn't talk about. Disregard was simultaneously the most senseless option and the only option.

He used to be an actor, and quite a good one. He had put his mask as a cheerful teacher and mentor back on at this point, and was searching for something on his computer, but he couldn't find it amidst all the disorganised files scattered across his desktop. He jokingly complained about it, still in his typical jovial tone.

All of a sudden, he broke character for a brief second. His voice shifted just for a moment, to something a little deeper and much less cadenced. "My life is falling apart," he blurted out under his breath. I don't know if he knew that I heard it, but it wrecked my contrite heart. I have never seen him look that vulnerable.

It seems that he's always playing some facet of himself wherever he goes - at school he's a lighthearted teacher that every one likes; at home he's a caring father; at his other gigs he's a devoted musician. But in that moment he was just - him, bordering on the agonising dichotomy between the human need to be understood and the need to execute the professional dogma as set by our social relation.

I knew how exhausting it is to carry the weight of all the masks on your back everywhere you go, and I wanted to ask him if there's anything that I could do to help. I'd do anything for that wistful light to never enter his eyes again, but I immediately realised that it was an otiose question for which I could never ask or receive an answer. How absurd, I thought to myself, that I would do everything but could do nothing for him because of how we met.

𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒,

𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒷𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒶

#happiness is a butterfly #teacher crush #tc community #teacher crush community #teacher x student #teacher attachment #this is what makes us girls #girlhood #girlblogger #girlblogging #lana del rey #lana del ray aka lizzy grant #lizzy grant #this is a girlblog #girlblog aesthetic #gaslight gatekeep girlblog #hell is a teenage girl #female hysteria #girl interupted syndrome #live laugh girlblog #coquette #black swan #tc feelings #tc blog #tccblr #tcc #diary #diary entry #journal #journal entry

[reyesstrand]

self promo saturday

thank you for the tags @orchidscript & @fitzherbertssmolder <33

the only rules: list 5 fanworks you're proud of

wait in the fire (tarlos, 4x04 coda)

Carlos rubs at his wrist, his thumb moving over the thin skin that's chafed, and TK's breath catches as he notices the stark redness of his knuckles; the split skin and the swelling that still hasn't gone down despite the on-and-off icing in the hospital. It's a mark of his bravery just as it's a mark of his final, desperate attempts at freedom, and TK hates imagining what must've been going through Carlos' mind in those final moments. TK gently brings Carlos' hand up to his mouth and kisses over every swollen knuckle.

His fiancé's face softens instantly. It lasts for a beautiful thirty seconds, until his eyes flash with a memory. His voice is low and wobbly as he says, "I think I broke his nose."

wanna be still with you (tarlos, 2x08 coda)

He's too focused on keeping himself upright, feeling woozy from the exertion, that there's a sort of hazy quality to everything around him. TK hears his name being called, and he's—he's certain it's his mind playing tricks on him; he has to be in some dreamlike state where Carlos has found them. But then he feels hands on him—big, sturdy, warm hands he would recognize blindfolded—and he turns his head and sees worried brown eyes and he just about crumbles. Thankfully, he has Carlos there to catch him.

to which there is no reply (tarlos, honeymoon fic)

Everything about TK makes him forget. But then it all comes back to him slowly, not unlike a spark to kindling, leaving Carlos swallowing down his grief like the fire it is—trying to consume it all by himself so he’s the only one who feels the burn. He glances out the half-open window, and sees the white dots of birds drifting on the low tide, and he wonders how he’s supposed to leave it all. The salty air, the pleasant sun, the way TK walks without a line of tension in his shoulders. He knows they’ve transcended all different sorts of honeymoon phases since they gave their relationship a real go a few years ago; he knows that they’ll still be them once Owen picks them up from Austin-Bergstrom and they go home to the loft and work and responsibilities and Lou II. But he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to go back to a life without his father.

hold on to me (nancy/marjan, post-2x02)

She tries to keep herself focused on tiny tasks as she prepares to go home; the shower had been blissful, but now she longs for her own bed. Cap had told them they’d be able to take a few days off to grieve, and so she grabs the dog-eared paperback Carlos leant her a week or two ago and her headphones from her bunk and stuffs it all into her bag, approaching the stairs as she goes. It’s then that Marjan hears it, tiny but distinctive in the quiet firehouse: a thud, followed by the sound of frustrated cries, all suspiciously coming from the ambulance bay. Marjan moves quickly, maneuvering deftly around workbenches and supplies in the bay, biting on the inside of her cheek when she sees the source of the noise: Nancy, hunched over in front of Tim’s locker, staring down at the box of his belongings that’s tipped over onto its side.

from wing to wing (tarlos, 4x16 coda)

Carlos has been there through it all, has loved him through it all, and TK blinks back tears as he grabs Carlos’ hand and laces their fingers together, kissing the heel of his palm, the pulse point under the thin skin of his wrist, needing him to feel it—feel everything that’s too big to name—too. “

No matter what, okay?” Carlos reminds him, squeezing him tight around his middle. He hears it again—I’m not running, TK—in the cadence of Carlos’ voice, and he nods, and lets himself be held closer.

leaving an open tag because i’m getting to this near the end of the day!! <3

#tag games #tarlos #nancy x marjan #my fic #self promo saturday

[johnwickb1tsch]

The Night Nurse - Ch 4

A John Wick x Helen Fic

When nurse Helen Morgan is caught in the crossfire of a shootout and aids the injured John Wick, she’s faced with two options: serve the High Table, or be executed as a Witness. She tells herself her choice to work at the Continental has everything to do with survival, and excellent pay, and *not* her growing feelings for the Tall, Dark, and Handsome Assassin™ who got her into this mess in the first place, thank you very much. │ Masterlist / Chapter Map │

IV.

He found Helen sitting in one of the comfy chairs, her elbows on her knees, and her chin cradled in her hands. She stared out at nothing; John knew she wasn’t really seeing the room. She was, most likely, seeing the outcome of what she’d just narrowly escaped. The thought made his blood boil. The temptation to march down to Mikhail’s room and waste the little fucker was real.

Making no sudden movements, he knelt beside her, careful not to touch her. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head. “No. I’m pissed off.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. This was no smiling matter—but even now, her ferocity delighted him.

“I’m sor—”

“Don’t. You haven’t done anything wrong. You saved me, again. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

She shook her head, clenching her fist against her mouth. He could see she was shaking. With fear, or anger, he really wasn’t sure. Both, perhaps, after what had happened. Most women would have broke down crying after such a scare. It was a completely valid reaction, but this woman…she got mad, and he didn’t know why that titillated him so.

He was hopeless.

“Just goes to prove no matter where you go, it’s never enough to be a woman just trying to do your job well. There’s always some asshole who wants to...”

She couldn’t bring herself to voice the rest. She didn’t have to.

John knew his expression reflected his murderous thoughts. “I promise, I won’t let them touch you. We will talk to Winston in the morning.”

“And what happens when I leave the Continental grounds?” she asked. “Are they going to be waiting for me, just to prove a point? I know men like that shit Mikhail. He’s like a child who can’t tolerate being told no.”

She was right, of course. She’d taken the exact measure of the Medvedev Bratva prince.

“God,” she sighed, sitting back in the chair. “This is just like the hospital. There was this asshole doctor…” She shook her head, gritting her teeth against some unpleasant memory. “Never mind.”

“Give me a name.”

“You can’t kill him, John.”

“Oh, I bet I could.”

“It wasn’t as bad as this. Forget it.”

“I won’t, but we can drop it, for now.”

He would be looking into the doctors she’d worked with in the past, but for now, they had a more immediate problem.

“Helen, do you know any self-defense?”

“I know some basics. Instep, eyes, throat, groin.” She punctuated her list with exaggerated karate chopping motions that he found highly adorable. “But there’s no way I could ever fight anyone like those two fucking guys. What do they weigh? Five hundred pounds in pure muscle?”

Though she mostly spoke without an accent, in moments like this John could hear Ireland via Boston in the cadence of her words. It was hopelessly endearing.

“I can teach you some things that would help you, even against them.”

She canted her head to look at him, and he could tell she was interested. “I believe you. Those guys looked like they might piss themselves when you walked out. Ok. That would be handy, I guess.”

“Are you…averse to learning how to use a gun?”

“I know how to use a gun.”

She really was perfect, he thought to himself. Absolutely fucking perfect.

“Do you carry?”

She shook her head. “My dad taught me how to use his Smith and Wesson .38. It was a lifetime ago. I don’t know about carrying a gun…I feel like I might be as likely to hurt myself or a bystander.”

“You just have to practice, and be careful. They don’t go off randomly. They really don’t.”

Her next sigh went on seemingly for hours.

Then, she laughed, scrubbing her face with her hands. “I don’t get it. What would that ridiculous young man even want with me? I am a mature woman pushing the far side of thirty.”

John bit the inside of his lip, warring with himself against stating the obvious, without sounding creepy. What was the most politic way of pointing out that she was fucking hot, age be damned? And, like so many in the cruel, male-dominated world of organized crime, Mikhail probably had his share of mommy issues.

Finally, he settled for, “I can’t fault his taste.”

She paused, clearly torn by his words. For not just hours ago, he had for all practical purposes, rejected her. 

He knew he was sending mixed signals. He didn't know how not to. She drew him like a moth to a flame. 

“When is your next day off?” 

“Tomorrow. Well. Today, I guess. I get off at 7am.”

“Alright. Then this is what I propose. You get some sleep. In the morning, we will talk to Winston. I want him to give you a panic button or something. Your phone was practically useless in that situation.” 

“Would he do that?”

“I don’t see why not. Maybe we live by the laws of the jungle out there, but in here, it’s the laws of the High Table. Doc doesn't have to deal with this shit. You shouldn't either.”

She nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. “Okay.”

“Then…” He looked up at her through his hair, and the sight grabbed her heart with a fist, squeezing painfully. This man. This fucking man, and his soulful looks, and his fathomless dark eyes. Seeing him on his knees before her did things to her insides, and she didn’t think there would ever come a time when he didn’t move her. She’d been hooked from the moment she set eyes on him. He would have this hold on her…probably until the day she died. He probably didn’t even know it either, she mused. He was very confident in his abilities to do his job. The rest…seemed a little shaky for him.

Then, anything you want, she thought to herself, though she at least had the self-respect not to say it aloud.

“Then, I want to teach you some things. Self-defense things,” he quickly added, as though he knew where her treacherous, exasperatingly hopeful, thoughts might lead.

So goddamn honorable.  

“Okay. Sure. Where?”

“My place?”

This intrigued her. She realized she never thought about John living somewhere else. When he wasn’t working, it seemed like he was always here at the Continental. Little did she know how much she had to do with that.

“I’m fine with that. Where do you live?” She imagined an apartment high above Manhattan.

“Over in Jersey.”

“Seriously?” She wasn’t sure why this amused her.

By the way he canted his head, he wasn’t either.

“Yeah. It’s set back in the woods. Private. It’s…quiet.”

She realized then that he was inviting her into his sanctuary. The place he went to get away from the city, and probably from the rigors of work too. She tried to put a cork in it, but that pesky warmth spread out from her heart to her bones.

“Sounds nice.”

“Yeah.” He seemed to struggle with something for a few moments before adding, “I’ll cook for you. Do you like steak?”

Almost as though she was afraid of spooking The Boogeyman, as silly as that seemed, she nodded slowly. “I love steak.”

“Great. After I’m done training you, I’ll owe you dinner.”

Helen raised an eyebrow at that ominous statement. Maybe this wasn’t so much a date after all. What had she gotten herself into? She’d been asking herself that a lot lately. And except for her little misadventure with Mikhail, so far, she could say this was the most interesting her life had been…ever.

“You don’t owe me anything, John. But I appreciate you looking out for me. Thanks.”

She reached out to him, and without thinking he took her hand in his, squeezing her fingers between his own. He knew she was tough, but her slender fingers seemed so delicate in his calloused hand. So breakable. His thoughts strayed to Mikhail, the fucker, and what John had barely managed to head off in the hallway. She deserved so much better than that. She deserved better than him, better than all of this. Without thinking, he pressed his lips to her knuckles.

When Mikhail had kissed her hand it had been unsettling. A power play that left her with worms squirming in her guts. But John’s mouth on her hand sent a frisson of longing through her veins. He was so goddamn sincere. Please stop making me want you, she pleaded. Stop making me want you, if I can’t have you.

“You should get some rest,” he said, releasing her albeit reluctantly as he stood.  

“I feel bad, hiding in your room. My phone might go off if I’m needed, I'll wake you up.” 

“If you have to go treat someone, I'll go with you.”

“John...”

“I insist.”

He looked down with his hands in his pockets and those serious dark eyes boring into her, a look that brooked no argument. It wasn’t just the sight of him in his half-buttoned black shirt, a pale triangle of toned chest peeking through. It wasn’t those polished onyx eyes, or the high cheekbones that fashion models would have killed for. She just couldn’t remember the last time someone had cared so much about what happened to her. Someone who was an actual adult, who could influence the outcome of things in some way. It was a heady feeling, to say the least.

Why did he have to be so breathtaking?

She sighed.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

“Something terrible, I assume.” The corner of his mouth ticked. Rolling her eyes, she stood from the chair, smacking his arm lightly. Out the corner of her eye, she noticed his smile widen. It warmed her heart.

Not so long ago, Winston had offered a coy observation, that John Wick was smiling more often these days. She hoped it was true.

As she kicked off her shoes she asked, “Is all this going to make a problem for you, John?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

“You don’t do work for the Medvedevs?”

“I contract with the Tarasov Bratva.” Essentially, he’d been sold to them by the Ruska Roma, when he was a fire-eyed young man becoming too difficult to control. The Director never admitted it, of course, but she’d decided to cut her losses before Jardani Jovanovich became a problem the Tarkovsky Theater couldn’t handle. He’d moved up the ranks since then, proving his worth in blood spilt. He couldn’t say he felt any true loyalty to the Tarasovs, but there was a code of respect that he did his best to follow. He wouldn’t stab Viggo in the back—unless the money was good enough.

That was the truest rule of their world.

“And how do the Tarasovs and Medvedevs get along?”

“Oh, they hate each other. Quietly, though. War is bad for business.”

Viggo had made his first fortune in the eighties running a gasoline racket that made him millions, though those days were long gone. Now he focused mostly on guns, gambling, and stolen cars. The Medvedevs seemed more inclined towards pleasures of the flesh, running clubs, drugs, and the inevitably associated skin trade of Eastern Bloc girls. Though misogyny ran rampant all across their world, it was little mystery why Mikhail viewed women the way he did.

Biting her lip, Helen nodded. John could practically hear the wheels in her frighteningly quick brain turning.

“This isn’t going to start a war, Helen. Surely not even Mikhail Ivanovich could be that stupid.”

Even as he said it, John wasn’t sure if he believed it. Like her namesake, at least to John, Helen was a woman worth going to war for. If the boy felt the same…there would be blood.

He didn’t need to scare her with that kind of speculation though. He kept his mouth shut.

When Helen noticed John preparing to lay out on the couch she sighed. “John…I’m not kicking you out of your bed.”

“I can sleep anywhere. Really.” Growing up in a Belarussian orphanage certainly made him appreciate a soft place to lay down, but the talent for being able to sleep on less than ideal surfaces had never left him. “You’ve had a night. Take the bed.”

She appreciated that he was sensitive to the possibility that she might not want to share a bed with a man, after what had nearly just happened to her. Was it insane, that it made her want him beside her all the more?

“I feel safe, with you.” For the momentarily pained expression that slipped before he schooled his features, she wasn’t sure she should have admitted that aloud. They had shared a bed that very first night in the Continental, talking until dawn about the High Table and the Underworld, and drifting off holding hands. It had been impossibly sweet, considering.

John had lost his heart to her that night. Heart and soul, falling so deeply in adoration that he knew he would never recover. It was the very reason he knew he couldn’t have her.

It could only end badly, for her, and he owed her better than that.

And yet, that devil on his shoulder whispered. And yet, maybe he hadn’t outright claimed her as his, but Igor and Alexei certainly planned to tell their boss that John Wick had made a prior claim. It was the only way they could stay out of trouble for failing to do the little bastard’s bidding. The gossip would spread like wildfire from there.

It was possible it was too late.

And if that was true…what did they have to lose?

Everything, still. Absolutely everything. Maybe if they could head off Mikhail’s bullshit, nip it in the bud, they could return to a state of normal. A state of safety, for Helen.

Dating him would not equal that, by a long shot.

“John?”

He realized he’d been standing there silently for nearly a minute, just looking at her. He was a man with iron self-control. It was the reason he was so good at what he did. Impulses were for lesser men. Impulses were what he preyed on when he hunted. But this woman…this woman. His will crumbled to dust in the face of those bright brown eyes looking upon him with longing for comfort.

“You’re sure?”

“So sure.”

She offered him a gentle smile, and it took everything not to fall to her feet and weep, or grab her up and kiss her, count her teeth and mark her skin with the fury of his desire, devour her with his lips until she forgot her own name, only that she was His.  

A weary groan escaped him as he lay down beside her.

It was not because his body hurt.

With the lights turned low, laying on her side facing him, she asked in a hushed tone, “John, why did you call Mikhail the bear cub?”

“Medvedev is a derivative of bear. Medved. They use it as their…sigil, I guess you could say. It’s supposed to strike fear in the hearts of their enemies.”

She didn’t miss the wry notes of mockery in the last sentence.

“Hmm. So John Wick isn’t afraid of bears. What’s your sigil then?”

He thought for a moment. Maybe others called him the Baba Yaga, but it wasn’t something he himself embraced. He didn’t really belong to the Tarasov clan. He didn’t claim the Ruska Romas either anymore, glad to be free of their cruelty, even if they made him into the man he was today. He was an orphan, a man alone. Until meeting Helen, he’d preferred it that way. “I don’t have one.”

He felt her reach out in the dark, her hand finding his, like it had that first night when he’d been shot and stabbed and she’d put all his pieces back together again. “We’ll just have to think about that.”

John snorted softly. He found it all rather silly, but if it meant something to her he wouldn’t shoot it down.

“What about you?”

She laughed quietly. She sounded sleepy, and soft, and he wanted to kiss her so badly.  “Maybe…a daisy. It’s my favorite flower.”

He felt himself smiling, more widely than he would have dared had the lights been on.

“Perfect.”

Not long after that he felt her relax, her breathing deepening as she fell into sleep. He remained vigil, listening to the sounds of the building, of the city, ready should something come. The world was changing; the old rules didn’t seem to mean what they once had. Was he becoming a bitter old man, griping about the youth of today and their lack of respect for the traditional ways?

There were things the new generation simply did not understand, born into their lives of luxury in this prosperous, oh so naïve country. They knew not what it was to see your breath in the cold inside your house, or to feel the grueling pain of your body eating itself out of hunger.

To have nothing, unless you took it with your own two hands.

That was what borne the Theives in Law of the old Soviet Union. It was a rebellion in a way, against Communism, and the corruption of the State. The Party took everything; the only way to have something for yourself was to steal it back. John understood this, had tasted that desperation as an orphan in one of the numerous institutions in Belarus, before the Ruska Roma took him in to mold for their own ends.

It was not their fault, really, that the next generation did not know the fear of the winter wolves howling just outside the door. Their fathers had bought comfort for their children with their blood and sweat and tears. It was what any parent wanted for their children; an easier life. A better life.

The American Dream—if only on the surface.

Yet rather than simply enjoy this bounty, live an easy life, go into legitimate business, they had to strut around, striving to prove their toughness and bravery, like cruelty was a badge to be worn like a designer insignia on one’s jacket. This was the thing John did not understand, and felt only contempt for when the young ones demanded the respect they had not themselves earned. They had not been forged in the old fires of the USSR, tempered by the constant hardships of life in the Soviet Union. One good hit, and they would crack like cheap steel.

Maybe John didn’t particularly want to start a war with Ivan Medvedev, but he would not hesitate to put Mikhail Ivanovich in his place, if the boy pushed any farther.

As he’d simultaneously hoped and feared, Helen shifted in her sleep, scooting closer into the shelter of his body. He did not have the strength to turn away, opening his arms to cradle her against him.

This soft miracle was a thing he did not take for granted. Pride was a fickle thing. Power too, was only fleeting. But this? A woman who truly saw you, and who still felt safe enough to grace you with the gift of her sleeping body in your arms?

This was worth burning a city down for.

<<Chapter 3 Chapter 5>>

#john wick #john wick x helen #keanu reeves #john wick fic #helen wick #john wick the night nurse

[fratboykate]

No! Papi! Don’t look at the buzz cut, look at me *dangles pocket watch in a hypnotizing motion* repeat after me: you neeeed to give us bgau 5yrs after snippet. Flo’s hair is still attached to her head. Everything will be fine

But also Netflix needs to get their shit in gear. Good luck bending them to your will

Y'all are so ridiculous lmao. Here's 2.5k words that are probably equal parts angst and domesticity. This is five years post divorce.

///

Yelena sits at a high-end restaurant, sharing her table with a captivating black woman whose radiant smile and crown of ebony curls exude a natural beauty. Their laughter fills the air, a reflection of the deep intimacy and ease that comes with dating for over a year.

With her effortless charm and resilience, Monica Rambeau instantly captured Yelena's heart. The subtle lines on her face tell a story of strength forged through life's trials. What binds these two together goes beyond words. Yelena and Monica share a profound understanding of each other's pain and trauma, an unspoken connection that weaves their lives together. They both carry the weight of loss, have walked the path of military service, and possess a disciplined nature. Yelena's enigmatic allure and sharp intellect fits in perfect harmony with Monica's indomitable spirit and boundless compassion for others. Yelena, often guarded, finds solace in Monica's unwavering support, while Monica draws strength from Yelena's fierce loyalty. They innately understand each other's pain and trauma, creating an unspoken bond that allows them to build a fulfilling life. Together, they’ve envisioned years overflowing with love and commitment. Yelena and Monica have decided to embrace the long haul, fully invested in creating a future, and ready to weather any storm that comes their way.

Yelena takes a delicate sip of her vodka sour, the liquid tang dancing on her tongue, and she can't help but burst into laughter at the absurdity that came out of her partner’s mouth.

"Nic, you did not say that to a four-star general. I don't believe you."

"He was so stunned he didn't even know how to respond."

"And you still walked away with the case assignment?"

"Absolutely. Once he realized I had him cornered, he had no choice but to give in."

Their laughter fills the air, their connection crackling with energy and warmth. But the moment is interrupted when Yelena's phone buzzes in her pocket, pulling her attention away. She retrieves it, glancing at the urgent text message that flashes across the screen: "Emergency at the Bishop property."

"Sorry," Yelena apologizes, her focus shifting entirely to her phone as she begins to type a response.

“Everything okay?” her girlfriend asks, concern etching her features.

A reply message pops up, and Yelena's skin drains of color. Swiftly, she rises from her seat, retrieves her wallet, and drops a few hundred in cash on the table.

"One of Kate's crazies broke into the house while she was there.”

"Oh my god! Is she okay?"

"I don't know. I need to go handle this."

"Yeah. Yeah, of course," Monica replies, her worry evident.

Leaning in, Yelena gently presses her lips against her girlfriend's, a tender farewell.

"I'll be home as soon as I can."

Monica cups Yelena’s face with her hand and delicately caresses her cheek with her thumb.  

"Please be safe."

"Always."

Yelena steals one final kiss before rushing to the door. 

---

The flashing red and blue lights of patrol cars cast an eerie glow, reflecting off the sleek facade of the mansion. They pulse with a sense of urgency as a few dozen members of Yelena's security team and police remain scattered around the premises. Yelena arrives quickly enough that they haven't even driven the intruder away yet. Her eyes lock onto the disheveled figure in the back of the patrol car, his face marked with bruises and tears mixing with snot as they stream down his cheeks.

Yelena's steps boom against the driveway's paving bricks with a determined cadence, underscoring the fury simmering within her. She marches purposefully towards the spot where Clint Barton, the man responsible for overseeing the night shifts, engages in conversation with another guard. The sheer intensity radiating from Yelena is palpable, causing the other bodyguard to grimace, excuse himself, and hastily retreat from the impending storm.

"What the hell happened?" Yelena demands, her voice tight with anger.

"I'm not sure. It looks like the guy broke in through the back, near the guest house.”

"What do you mean you're not sure? Check the damn footage."

"Ma'am, that camera has been down for over a week. Records say we put in the repair request, but the techs haven’t come yet.”

An irate growl builds in Yelena's throat.

"So we have a blind spot, and instead of assigning someone to cover it until it's fixed, you simply left it unattended?"

"No, ma'am. Kaplan has been back there for days, but he went on his lunch break."

"And no one replaced him?"

"We're down two men today, so we didn't have the bodies. There's a flu going around. Richards and Lang called out sick."

“Then you call the office and you have them pull from somewhere else! We have guys on call for this specific reason. You don't leave this property or team short. EVER. Am I clear?"

"Yes, ma'am. I did try to..."

Yelena's focus is abruptly shattered as another body collides into hers with unyielding force. Even before she lays eyes on Kate, she catches a whiff of that familiar perfume, stirring unwanted nostalgia and longing inside her. It's been far too long since they've been this close, yet the effect remains undeniable.

Kate clings to Yelena with a desperate grip, seeking comfort and security in her arms. The blonde adjusts her position within Kate’s arms, turning to face the younger woman directly. Their eyes lock. The instant blue and green meet, it’s as if a dam has burst and a torrent of sobs spills from Kate's trembling form, the weight of her emotions breaking through the surface.

"Hey…Hey…You okay?" Yelena's voice is tinged with concern, her gaze searching for answers.

“I heard your voice. Inside. I heard it…You came.” Kate manages to utter between tears, her voice filled with relief and vulnerability.

“Of course I came. Of course.” Kate's grip tightens around Yelena. Yelena responds by enveloping the brunette in her arms, holding her closer with tender strength. "Is Eli on his way?"

Kate's head shakes against Yelena's chest, tears staining the fabric of her shirt.

"He's in Edinburgh. He's on set, shooting the sequel to his stupid alien movie until June.”

Yelena lets out a sigh.

"I'm calling in more bodies, at least until he comes back. You'll be safe."

Kate looks up at Yelena.

"Can you stay?" Kate asks, her voice soft and small. “Please."

Yelena hesitates for a moment while surveying Kate’s distressed face. With a resolute nod, Yelena reaches out and tenderly takes Kate's hand in her own, their fingers involuntarily intertwining as if guided by an invisible force. Neither of them notices the subtle gesture, too consumed by the moment's graveness and the need to protect and be protected.

With their hands entwined, they move forward, stepping across the entryway and into the house's safety.

---

Yelena steps inside the house, her first time crossing its threshold in five long years. Memories of joy, pleasure, and heartache rush back. It looks different now, the decor changed, but familiar elements still evoke a bittersweet sense of nostalgia. The space is both foreign and strangely familiar, leaving Yelena with conflicting emotions. She's somehow trapped in a paradox. She feels a sense of displacement, like a visitor in her own past, yet there’s also an undeniable feeling that she somehow belongs here, even after all this time.

As Kate settles on the couch, her body curled up protectively, Yelena gracefully lowers herself to a squat, positioning herself at eye level with the younger woman. Their eyes meet, and Yelena's concern deepens.

"Are you okay?"

"I turned around and he was...there."

Kate’s voice trembles as she responds. Yelena shakes her head almost imperceptibly, regret and guilt shadowing her expression.

"Kate, I'm so sorry. This should've never happened. It's my fault. I haven't been checking in on your team enough. I dropped the ball. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault." Kate's response is immediate, her voice filled with conviction as she counters Yelena's self-blame.

"It is. I take full responsibility, and if you decide to find other security options, I completely understand."

A soft sigh escapes Kate's lips, and she reaches out to gently touch Yelena's arm.

"I'm not sure how many times you're going to make me say this, but I’ll say it again…you're the only person I trust with this.” Kate’s words carry a reassuring sincerity that resonates deeply with Yelena.

"A guy just broke into your house under my watch."

"Not yours. Not specifically."

"You know what I mean."

Yelena's attention drifts towards the kitchen, her eyes catching the telltale signs of a panicked struggle. The scene sends a surge of rage coursing through her veins. She clenches her fists, her jaw tightening as she imagines the terrifying encounter that took place in this very spot.

The remnants of a halfway-finished meal sit abandoned on the counter, a stark reminder of the interrupted peace and normalcy that once filled the room. The scattered utensils and overturned chairs bear witness to the chaotic confrontation between Kate and the intruder. Yelena's mind races, trying to piece together the sequence of events that unfolded, her protective instincts sharpening.

"Were you making dinner?” Kate nods. "I'll make you something."

"It's fine. I'm not hungry anymore."

Yelena refuses to accept Kate's dismissal.

"Something small. Tell me what you want. I’ll make it for you."

The faintest of smiles tugs at the corner of Kate's lips, but her refusal remains steadfast.

“Yel, I’m really not hungry."

They both fail to register the intimacy of the nickname Kate used. Yelena looks at Kate with concern, her brow furrowing slightly and leans closer.

"That chicken strawberry salad you like?” Yelena suggests, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “You always have stuff around to make that."

A small chuckle escapes Kate's lips offering momentary respite from the tension that hangs in the air.

"That's what I was making."

Yelena's smirk widens into a playful grin as their eyes lock in a lingering stare.

"You're nothing if not a creature of habit, Kate Bishop. I have to make a call first and then I'll get on it. Okay?"

With a silent nod, Kate accepts Yelena's offer. Yelena rises, her movements purposeful, and takes a step back, turning towards the living room and kitchen meeting point in the open floor plan. She retrieves her phone from her pocket, her fingers moving swiftly to dial a familiar number. Her voice remains steady and focused as she brings the phone to her ear, masking the underlying emotions.

"Hey...yeah. Yeah. Things are fine...mostly. Yeah...No. I'm probably not coming home tonight. I have to...I have to stay...I'm sorry. There's a lot to deal with over here. I'll make it up to you...I know. I love you too. Bye."

When Yelena turns, Kate's energy feels different, almost palpably so. The call catches her off guard and her previously softened demeanor shifts. At that moment, her body tenses up, and her expression becomes guarded. The realization that Yelena has a partner, someone she didn't even know existed, hits Kate like a punch to the gut. It leaves her feeling unsettled, a mixture of surprise, confusion, and maybe even a hint of betrayal.

"I didn't know you were with someone. I don't want to make it awkward or get you in trouble or...I don't know."

Yelena thought she had walked away far enough for Kate not to overhear her, but her voice must have carried more than she anticipated. Yelena's lips subtly curl upwards as her eyes meet Kate’s.

"You're not."

"You can go. I don't want to keep you from...anything."

Yelena shakes her head as she removes her blazer. In a familiar motion, she neatly drapes it over the back of a nearby breakfast stool, a ritual ingrained in their shared history. It's a small, seemingly insignificant moment, yet it carries a weight of familiarity and comfort between them. The sight evokes memories of countless evenings spent together around that same kitchen island, engaged in deep conversations that stretched late into the night. During those quiet moments, their connection blossomed as they shared their dreams, fears, and secrets with one another. The kitchen became a sanctuary, a space where they could be completely forthcoming and vulnerable, finding serenity in each other's presence. The years now seem to fade away, transporting them back to a time when their lives seamlessly merged into one. Despite the circumstances and the distance that has grown between them, it’s evident that old habits die hard for these two.

"She's used to it. You're not the only one of my clients who has a crisis every so often."

"Right."

"And I think I should also say ‘congratulations’." Yelena points at the giant engagement ring on Kate's hand. "That's an impressive rock.”

"I designed it."

"Wouldn't expect anything else."

Kate's gaze drifts downward, fixated on her thighs. After a moment of silence, she finally speaks.

"I guess we both found our people."

It's easier to say this than to admit the weight of the secret that Kate carries. Merely a week ago, Kate called off her engagement with Eli before he left to shoot his latest film project. The ring on her finger remains, a constant reminder of another failed relationship. It’s a symbol of a shattered commitment she's not yet ready to confront. It's easier to keep it on, avoiding the questions and judgment that would follow its removal.

"I guess we did...I'll make you some food."

Kate nods in gratitude, silently thanking Yelena for the familiar tradition of the blonde making food for the younger woman in moments of turmoil. As Yelena skillfully maneuvers around the kitchen, Kate watches her with a hint of admiration. The clatter of utensils, the sizzle of ingredients, and the rhythmic sounds of Yelena’s cooking fill the air, creating a soothing soundtrack that drowns out the worries of the world. This cocoon of domesticity temporarily shields them from the chaos and uncertainty that looms just beyond the door.

#kate x yelena #yelena x kate #kate bishop #yelena belova #bishova #bishlova #kybgau #kybgaup #anonymous #answers

[sassysadisticsarcasms]

Frazzled & Frizzy

Ok. So, lack of sleep. Depending on the person the symptoms of sleep deprivation can differ greatly. Some people get tired, others get paranoid or grumpy, and quite a few get migraines. However, a select few fall victim to a specific symptom of sleep deprivation I like to call frazzled and frizzy. I am one such victim.

Frazzled and frizzy happens when your so tired the mind bypasses the need for sleep by substituting it with the manic need to do anything but. Everything is hilarious, you feel like you could run a marathon on your hands while singing Bohemian Rhapsody out of tune at the top of your lungs, and common sense becomes distorted. The moment you stop moving, however, you collapse into a pile of goo and bone-deep regret.

I can help but think of how beautifully this would work with Danny.

Here’s Danny. He’s fought ghosts the entire night before, he had a math test the following morning, interspaced ghost attacks in the afternoon coupled with detention for missing gym, not to mention homework and the various household chores his dad pushed off onto him. He’s been waiting to collapse on his bed and into sleep all day. 

Which he does. Right after dinner and Jazz-mandated family bonding time, he practically crawled up the stairs and down the hall to his room. At first Danny doesn’t even bother to brush his teeth. He puts on his PJ’s and curls up under the perfectly cozy covers of his space themed bed spread. 

Five minutes later he’s out of bed and brushing his teeth because his mom didn’t believe the dentist could do anything better than what she could do herself. Danny still had trauma from the last time his dad played nurse and whipped out the Fenton Instant Cavity Filler.

So he goes back to bed. This time the covers don’t feel nearly as cozy and his pillow seems to have developed an unpleasant lump. By the time he finds the perfect position he can’t stop thinking about how he hasn’t gone pee yet. He doesn’t actually have to pee. Danny knows he doesn’t.

One bathroom trip later, his eyes had adjusted to the light and his blankets been tangled from the last time was in bed. After several moments of wrestling the comforter into submission, he finally gets comfortable again and closes his eyes. 

For quite awhile he lays in the quite darkness of his room. He hardly moves until the last glowing star on his ceiling has lost it’s splendor.

Danny’s eye twitched. He felt a shiver roll down his spine. With starbursts exploding out his chest, he launched himself out of bed and immediately turned on the lights to his room in order to recharge his stars. Speaking of which, has his room always been this messy? 

Danny eyed the pieces of the rocket Skulker had shattered that time he broke into his room. His eyes flickered over to the clock. 

10:46pm

Well, it wasn’t too late to put it back together.

.......

There was a noise. It was low and rumbling. Sleepily, Sam rolled away from it, dipping quickly back into silent dreams. 

The sound continued its rolling cadence. Sam, it seemed to whisper. She burrowed deeper into her pillow. 

Sam, it called again. Gradually, she peeled an eye open to catch something glowing and green. The blob released a hysterical giggle.

“Danny?” She questioned, sitting up and rubbing sleep from her eyes.

Once her vision was clear, she was better able to take in his appearance. His hair was sticking up in ever direction more than usual with twigs and leaves interwoven into the white strands. There was an unnaturally long grin spread across his face with a gently green tint across his cheeks. His hands where splattered with something green.

“Sam! You won’t believe what I figured out!” He laughed hysterically, “So I was trying to fix my rocket, you know, the one that Skulker broke, and I started thinking about how nice the stars are outside. So naturally I jumped out the window-”

“You want!? You went ghost, right?”

“Don’t worry about it, I landed in a bush,”

That explained the leaves.

“Anyway, the stars where cover in clouds because October weather sucks, so I started to wander around and ran into the Red Huntress!”

“What!? Did she shoot at you?”

“Only a little, I defeater her by forgetting to go intangible though a tree and face planting into another bush. She totally missed me, and then-”

“Danny?”

“Hmm?”

“Please just tell me what you figured out so I can go back to sleep.”

Danny blinked at her blankly for several minutes before a look of recognition flew over his features. Reaching intangibly into his stomach, Danny pulled out a tiny green blob ghost. The tiny thing blinked tiny black eyes at her. 

Sam watched as Danny proceeded to ring the blob ghost out like a towel. Quite a bit of green liquid poured out of the little creating, staining he rug in the neon color. Once he was done the blob ghost popped back up into it’s normal shape.

Danny looked at her with a big smile, “Isn’t that neat?”

“What the fuck?”

#danny phantom #sam manson #blob ghost #sleep deprivation

[colibritas]

syzygy

pairing: bobby marks x f!detective (camilla reyes) (past) (listen. i know.)

word count: 1,738 words | rating: T, brief mentions of alcohol ig?

summary: The detective goes on a walk and stumbles upon a memory. (post book 3 Bobby route - vague spoilers ahead!)

author’s note: i have no words and no excuses but i think it would be neat if they get some closure B) i literally can’t believe my first fic for this fandom heavily focuses on bobby marks, don’t look at me

read on ao3!

There’s a weathered old wooden bench near the cliffs at the lighthouse, where the stars shine brightly on clear nights, and the breeze coasting in from the ocean is cold but smells like salt and memory.

Camilla doesn’t pass it often, these days. The nostalgic ache it stirs in her tastes like cheap rum and cheap promises, makes her feel a little too hollow.

She’s not totally sure what brings her there tonight. She knows she shouldn’t be wandering the shaded paths of Wayhaven alone at night, with her blood calling like a siren song to every Trapper and toothed creature in a hundred miles.

But there’s always been an itch in her soul, compels her to wander to ease the stirring. Walking a beat used to help, particularly at night when she had Tina’s laughter to keep her company.

Now, the shadows are no longer friends to shelter her, but the promise of some new horror to steal her away. There is no laughter to keep her company, just the whisper of the wind and the way her skin prickles at the groaning of the trees.

The waves lapping along the shore still her mind with a static fuzz, and the night is quiet and velvet. It’s late summer, the perfect time for a near-midnight walk, and the dying embers of the season are pleasant to warm herself to even though clouds cover the blanket of stars. A soft summer storm had swept through earlier that day, and the air is fresh and verdant with the ghost of it, grass and earth damp beneath her shoes. As she approaches the bend where the bench looks out over the waterline she slows, seeing a worried figure seated there, hunched over.

The smart thing would be to turn and walk away before they notice her, and she nearly does before she catches a glimpse of caramel-coloured hair dripping with silver in the faint moonlight. It would still be the smart thing to turn and walk away; now more than ever, maybe.

“Bobby?”

He spins to face her, coiled like a spring as he leaps to his feet. Tense, anticipatory. She raises both hands like a white flag. “Just me. Didn’t want to sneak up on you. Is that pepper spray in your pocket, or are you happy to see me?”

Camilla nods at where his hand hovers not too far from his belt.

He settles back into a more Bobby-like cadence and forcibly relaxes. “I’m always happy to see you, angel,” he drawls. It’s not very convincing. Even through the dim light she can see the shimmer of tension in his fingers. “You just caught me by surprise, is all.”

Slowly, she steps toward him, still keeping her hands raised at first, but lowering them as he eases his own arms down at his sides, looking a little less like he’s going to snap and blast pepper spray in her eyes. His gaze is unfocused in a way she’s not used to, no longer liquid and confident. She approaches like she might a wounded animal before settling down on one edge of the bench. He sits at the other, and a thick, heavy quiet settles on its haunches between them.

And, eventually, once the blanketing silence grows too oppressive in the warm night:

“I don’t think I’ve seen you here since we broke up,” he says, voice a little too loud, a little too strained against the darkness.

“Because I haven’t been,” Camilla mumbles. “Figured you’d probably not want me skulking around if you decided to bring a new partner here.”

He goes a bit quiet, at that. “C’mon, Camilla,” he mutters. “This was our spot.”

The tide rolls in. It smells like summer. Reminds her of warm, sloppy kisses at the tail end of summer break, the wooden slats of this weathered old bench uncomfortable under the heels of her palms, and the first time he said he loved her. She’d believed him, then.

The ache gnaws at her.

“You still come out here often?” She asks, instead of saying the thing she really wants to say. She’s not sure if she wants the answer to this question, either, now that she thinks about it, but it’s already out of her mouth and she can’t take it back. Maybe she’ll get lucky and he’ll deflect it with some sort of flirtation or angle, anyway, like he always does.

“Yeah. When I need to think,” he says instead, the moonlight softening him, fuzzing his edges.

She bites back the short reply at the tip of her tongue. He doesn’t deserve her scorn, not when he says something genuine for once. Something in her, the ungenerous part that’s still a little raw, reminds her that he’s often used his own vulnerability as the scalpel to cut her open in the past. It’s long past the time when she should have stopped falling for it, but she still does every time. Hook, line, sinker.

“What were you thinking about?”

“How fucked up it’s all gotten,” he says with a strained laugh. “I mean, Jesus. You ever see all of this coming?”

“Shit, Bobby. If I saw half of this coming I’d’ve bought several lottery tickets by now. I’d be relaxing on a beach somewhere, with a margarita in each hand and not a care in the world.”

“I hope one of the margaritas would be for me?”

“Not a chance, get your own damn margaritas.”

They both chuckle a little, soft and quiet. It’s easy, until it hurts. Their laughter trails off into silence.

The waves against the beach. Kisses that tasted like cheap rum and empty promises. The ache gnaws her hollow, licks the meat off her bones.

She tucks her knees up to her chest and leans back. The wooden planks dig into her spine, but it feels real and not like the haze of memory.

“If I asked you something right now, would you tell me the truth?” She whispers into the breeze. Almost hoping the wind will catch her voice and toss it high above their heads where no-one will hear it.

Bobby hesitates. “At this point, angel, I don’t think you’d believe me if I lied.”

“Did you love me?”

“Camilla,” he says, sounding strangled. He forces a laugh. “I don’t think anyone could’ve grown up with you and not fallen in love with you.”

She squeezes her eyes shut. The truth from him hurts more than the lies, sometimes.

And, quieter, he says: “Of course I love you. —Loved.”

“Then why—”

“I don’t know,” he lies.

They quiet, that silence sitting hunched between them still.

He bridges it first. Stretches a hand across the ten inches of eternity between them; she sees the movement from the corner of her eye. He’d never been one for romantic gestures, when they were together. It was all— pageantry, ego-stroking. And she (fatherless, motherless) had devoured every morsel of attention like oxygen to a flame even if she knew deep down it didn’t mean to him what it did to her.

Hook, line, sinker. She closes the space, brushes her knuckles against his, and he interlaces their fingers. The summer air is warm, but his hand is cold. There’s a tremble to the pulse she can feel thrumming in his wrist, like a hummingbird heart.

“It’s too late for us, isn’t it?” He mumbles.

Camilla gives his hand a squeeze. Years ago, she might have felt a spark of hope at their interlocked fingers, the way his hand warms at her touch.

“I think that ship has sailed.” She turns to give him a small smile. There’s no spark of hope there anymore, just a used-to-be. A sigh runs ragged over his lips. He looks… tired, actually. A little worn. Not quite as coiffed and shining as he usually is, though he still strikes a handsome silhouette with the faded moonlight casting him in soft, luminescent edges.

“Yeah, I thought so.” He hesitates. “Are you… happy?”

Camilla thinks of warm brown eyes, honey-sweet, filling her mouth with poetry.

“Yeah,” she says.

“Even with the world going crazy and knowing there are monsters out there that want to kill you? With the danger?”

“The world was already crazy, and I was already in danger. Have you seen my car?”

He grimaces. “I try not to. You can hear it before you see it, anyway, so you can just scrunch your eyes closed and—”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” She can’t help the grin that spreads across her face. “Some part of me honestly still feels like… like I’m going to wake up tomorrow and none of it will be real. But yeah. I’m happy. I don’t have to do it alone, you know?”

When he falls silent, she nudges herself across the gap, until their knees touch, their shoulders bump together. “And you don’t, either.”

He sighs, releases her hand so he can stretch an arm around her shoulder. It’s a move he’s made before, sitting here on this bench, but it doesn’t feel the same. None of the fire, like whiskey burning a trail down your throat. None of the heavy-lidded gazes. She’s surprised to find that it doesn’t hurt. It almost feels… comfortable, this time. She’ll always love him, too, a part of her recognizes—but not the way she used to.

“I don’t, huh? You think you can get me the number of any of those sexy agents, then?”

“Ugh, you suck.” Camilla swats at his knee playfully, no real bite to her words. He laughs in response.

His arm pulls a little closer around her shoulders, and he points up at the sky. “Hey, look.”

The clouds have parted, and above them the sky glitters like a gown studded with so many diamonds. When she hastens a careful glance up at him, he’s smiling. A small smile, relaxed, not the usual suggestive smirk she’s grown used to. She feels her face light with a smile, too, and it feels a bit like forgiveness.

The stars shine down on them and the waves crash, but the air tastes like rain and summer, like damp grass and fragrant earth. It’s not the same as it was because they’re not the same as they were, and it’s… good. At least in this moment, the ache she’d grown used to feels like the dull twinge of a broken bone healing.

#the wayhaven chronicles #twc fic #twc fanfic #bobby marks #bobby marks x detective #yikes!!!!!! #oc: camilla reyes #dropkicks this and RUNS #no editing we die like men!!!!! #oh also i guess there’s some nate/detective if you squint

[manuscriptsdontburn6]

Here are some thoughts on Lestat’s band! Playlist/song recs at the end.

TL/DR: Lestat could’ve been an early ‘70s glam rock star, and most of the music associated with him has connections to that era.

Descriptions of the band from the books:

“I could hear their whining electric guitars, their frantic singing. It was as good as the radio and stereo songs I heard, and it was more melodic than most. There was a romance to it in spite of its pounding drums. The electric piano sounded like a harpsichord.”

The Vampire Lestat, page 5

“Then came the piercing, twanging fury of the electrical guitar. The drums boomed into a marching cadence, and the grinding locomotive sound of the synthesizer crested, then broke into a bubbling caldron of noise in time with the march. It was time to begin the chant in the minor key, its puerile lyrics leaping over the accompaniment…”

The Vampire Lestat, page 537

I remember reading that Anne saw an Iron Maiden concert as research for writing The Vampire Lestat. She also cited Bon Jovi and the Doors as inspiration. I think in one of the @thecoveninarticulate podcasts, someone even talked about how TVL has a keyboardist but no bass player, which was a reference to the Doors. Also, the description of the keyboard sounding like a harpsichord is reminiscent of the Doors’s sound, which includes a lot of electric organ. So we’re not working with less commercial ‘80s goth music (which I like to think Armand and Daniel were into). TVL probably wouldn’t reach the insane level of commercial success that they do as an ‘80s goth band, as goth was very much confined to subcultural status at this time. The same goes for heavier/more underground metal subgenres. Over-the-top ‘80s rock and classic ‘60s rock are what we’re working with, based on the books.

The Doors are an interesting reference for TVL, since they’re out of the ‘80s time period. They experimented with lyrical and sonic darkness, and Jim Morrison is noted for the boundaries he pushed as a performer. They’re aesthetically associated with the underbelly of ‘60s L. A. Think Once Upon A Time…In Hollywood. Thus, Lestat’s music is meant to cut deeper than his ‘80s hair metal contemporaries, whose music was mostly just good fun.

I personally think it might have been appropriate for Lestat to emerge in the early-mid ‘70s as a sort of dark glam rock star, instead of in the ‘80s during the hair metal/goth era. Lestat’s experimentation with persona is VERY similar to what David Bowie did with Ziggy Stardust. Additionally, the band and singer sharing a name seems like a call back to o. g. Alice Cooper (no clue if Anne intended that or not, but it’s what I immediately thought of). This connects back to the Doors as well; Jim Morrison’s performance style formed the rock star archetype of the tragic figure battling internal demons, which glam rock dramatizes. The sound that woke Lestat up from his vampire nap (abrasive yet melodic and of course hard-rocking) had been developing for a long time before 1984. Plus, ‘70s glam rock was all about pushing the envelope on male gender presentation and sexuality. Marc Bolan (of T. Rex) and David Bowie both came out as bisexual during this time period, and male rock stars dressed more and more androgynously. It’s all very Lestat-core. I really have trouble believing he would have slept through Bowie, Bolan, Iggy, and Alice.

Whatever else we might have to say about AMC’s adaptation, I did enjoy that they played T. Rex during the scene where young Daniel and Louis (plus Armand) meet in the bar. It was perfect for a queer scene set in the ‘70s.

The Queen of the Damned movie from 2002 makes The Vampire Lestat into a nu-metal band. I’ve only seen clips of that movie on Youtube, and I felt like I got a good enough idea of what it’s like…but I have looked at the soundtrack. Its songs were written by Jonathan Davis of Korn and sung by the who’s-who of nu-metal, and ‘90s-2000s alt rock generally. Davis’s dark, sludgy sound seems a bit far from what the books describe and what Lestat’s own tastes probably would have been. Also, it’s important to note that some artists on the soundtrack have turned out to be egregiously horrible people, even by the standards of the very fucked up rock music world. We don’t need to give them attention by incorporating them into our worldbuilding.

That being said, there are a few elements of the overall Lestat nu metal vibe that I think work. Nu metal was a more commercialized version of goth and metal that was recognized more widely, which corresponds with TVL’s level of success in the books. I can also get behind the mall-goth aesthetic for band and their fans. Vampire kitsch, combined with real vampirism. It’s textbook camp. Also, songs about Lestat’s life are going to inevitably have disturbing lyrical content. Nu-metal explores this kind of subject matter more explicitly than many other subgenres.

A lot of the nu metal bands on the soundtrack took inspiration from the early ‘70s, evident in their androgyny, blurring of the line between persona and reality, and campiness. So, even in that intensely 2000s movie, the ‘70s influence remains.

Speaking of 2000s alt rock, I was of course excited to see Gerard Way dressed as Bela Lugosi on MCR’s most recent tour. Lestat also dressed as a stereotypical vampire, cape and all, for his (singular) show. Glam rock is an influence for MCR as well—Gerard Way talks about Bowie in interviews, etc. It’s awesome. That got me thinking—Lestat would have totally written intense and dramatic MCR-esque love songs for Louis.

I think it’s also worth mentioning the final scene of the 1994 adaptation. Lestat jumps into Daniel’s convertible with a leather jacket over his ruffled shirt, which is a look a LOT of androgynous rock stars wore. It’s giving Jimmy Page in a major way. Lestat switches the radio station to play “Sympathy for the Devil,” covered by Guns and Roses. The Stones were precursors to glam rock in their way. Guns and Roses came later but took a lot from early ‘70s glam as well. It’s safe to infer that Lestat’s already going into his rock star era at this point in the movie. This gives us an idea of his music taste and general attitude at this point in the narrative. He’s interested in the dark and glamorous aesthetic of rock music, as well as how its contemplations of evil intertwine with his.

We don’t know what AMC is going to do with Lestat’s rock star era yet. I’m interested to see what route they take.

Here are a few songs that fit with how I imagine TVL, based on all these considerations. It’s a bit of a strange combination because Lestat has been associated with different styles of music, but they all connect with glam rock one way or another. I’d love y’all’s thoughts as well, ofc!

Songs:

More—Sisters of Mercy

Andrew Eldritch, goth icon who denies his own gothness, decided to try being a straight-up rock star with the album Vision Thing, leaving behind the melancholic sound of the Sisters’ earlier work. This song has violin on it—perfect for Lestat. The lyrics are also in character for him: “I don’t know why you gotta be so undemanding/one thing I know/I want MORE,” “I need all the love that I can’t get to.”

Riders on the Storm—the Doors

Imagine it done by an ‘80s band. It works.

Ziggy Stardust—David Bowie

This is Bowie telling the story of his character Ziggy, like how Lestat talks about himself in his songs. Plus it’s very Lestat to describe yourself as having a “god-given ass.” Am I wrong? I’m not wrong.

Ballrooms of Mars—T. Rex

This is one of the best songs Marc Bolan ever wrote, in my opinion. Unlike most of his work, which is whimsical and nonsensical in the best way, the lyrics and descending chord progression create a more ominous and mournful atmosphere. The lyrics can easily be read as vampiric.

Runnin’ With the Devil—Van Halen

Tough Cookie would probably have an Eddie Van Halen-esque guitar tone, as TVL would want to sound very modern for their time period. Themes of, well, runnin’ with the devil. Confessing your own evilness to a rock audience.

Change in the House of Flies—Deftones

The one QOTD movie song I’m including. I think TVL’s songs would have a bit more dynamic variation than the Deftones, but the love/horror combo this song is about plays a big part in VC and in Lestat’s life. Plus, I can imagine it would be a good song to perform live, and, being glam-adjacent, that would be important for TVL.

Sympathy for the Devil—Guns and Roses

Good job, 1994 adaptation.

#manuscriptsdontburnoriginal #well that was. a lot more work #than i anticipated #the vampire lestat #anne rice #the vampire chronicles #glam rock #david bowie #lestat #gothgothgoth #is it ever too much for tumblr #i will need my own 50 year nap now #i hope this is coherent #manuscriptsdontburnanalyzesthings

[cloudninetonine]

*walks on in, faceplants tiredly, leaves after awkwardly getting up and waving, leaving a note behind* Hi, a simple very awkward anon here, how ya doing? Hopefully you're having a nice day!

Pretty sure Cadence of Hyrule Link (or as I call him in my mind Lora, after Coloratura, like the Opera term?) is his own thing, much like how Warriors is, he didn't get melded in with any of the Link's from what I can see in Jojo's lore and much like Warriors he's not in the timeline (and I've got the books with me to double check), so I'm pretty sure his adventure is his own thing, another thing I use a lot to see if there Hyrule's are in the same branch of the timeline is lay out, like is Castle Town named Castle Town or Hyrule Town, how big is Hyrule Field, where is Link's House and where is it relative to another games, does this Hyrule have things that another game has like certain songs and items etc, it helps though that's a me thing for the most part cause I'm an overthinker, Cadence of Hyrule's Link layout doesn't match Legend's or Rulie's from what I remember of his game, besides I think Legend would probably remember the time a stranger from another world wielding a shovel that's actually a bit of a grave robber and literally missing a heart broke into his place through a magic portal to wake him up for music shenanigans with a fairy called Trill, which is Cadence of Hyrule's main fairy like Proxy, Tatl and Navi because she's trying to get back to her own place and drag even more Theater Kid Vaati with her back in one go. I personally headcanon that if he's anywhere in the timeline, he's probably the inflection point between Legend and Hyrule, after Legend's time, but most likely a few hundred years before Rulie give or take, making him one of Legend's descendants but Rulie's grandfather in spirit, or he and Warriors share an era or he's on that gray area with Warriors, Calamity and Wild, though I could be wrong. It would make sense though since I headcanon he gets the Triforce of Power back from Cadence after she leaves, so that would be almost a full Triforce which could lead to the events in Rulie's era.

All I can think now is that Cadence of Hyrule Link would definitely be a theater kid with Player, like he just gets introduces them to musicals from their world and they go absolutely nuts reenacting them when they can, I can definitely see him reenacting something like Helpless from Hamilton with Player just to mess with the Chain members who outwardly simp (because, not only is he more well prepared to deal with Player's unhinged vibes because of Cadence, whom I'm pretty sure has no chill given her main weapon is a shovel, but he also probably gets not so hidden gremlin vibes from her before she's gone), or any song with those romantic and yearning vibes, and I feel like he would really love the game Bad End Theater too, it's a great game if you ask me and shockingly cheap to get.

(...Now this makes me want to have the Chain react to it, maybe I'll write that one day... Maybe)

Basically shy at the start but very determined and with the classic Link will to help people, but an absolute band or theather kid once someone pulls out an instrument or mentions music, you wouldn't get him to sing normally but once he gets going he goes full on Disney Prince, probably a great dancer too and incorporates it into his fighting style, just, draws Player into an impromptu tango dance mid battle, spins and dips them to simultaneously get them away from a stray Bokoblin and deal with it in one go (Wild and Hyrule are chugging vinegar, Warriors could never- boy is unintentionally smooth and everyone is punching the air). His Zelda is also likely very spunky, like Artemis or Flora (she literally gets on his case for breaking pots and it's hilarious, can fight like Artemis which is very rare and I bet Cadence influenced her too) and she'd probably delight in knowing Player, her, Cadence and Player would be besties through energy alone, and Cadence for having another person that knows what it's like to be impromptu isekaied and she would absolutely hit Legend with a shovel if he started anything. She's out of chills to give after Octavo's shenanigans, probably teaches Player how to effectively make a shovel a weapon too.

All I'm saying is that if Nintendo won't give Warriors, First, the Link before Wild (whom I personally call Fia, after the Celtic word for hunter, though hero of seraph sounds so metal and I just- have Many Thoughts but I wouldn't wish to bother ya with my crazy theorizing and rambling even more than I likely do XD) and him some respect and content, but they'll make the Four Swords dress up spin off apparently canon, then I guess I'll just have to do it myself even while sleep deprived.

Speaking of musicals, any favorites you have or think the Chain would have?

Also, Songstress Reader, again maybe they have an Azura from Fire Emblem deal? They can use any of the vocalized songs from the boys era and their various effects, but the more they sing the more it harms their body or it could be specific songs that harm it (Like how Azura gets harmed by Lost in Thoughts All Alone because of the curse placed on the song and on the people whose kingdom they come from), like say the Song of Time, Song of Healing, maybe their own spin on Lost in Thoughts All Alone which can purify Malice like energy and even calm down dragons out of rages, The Ballad of the Wind Fish etc, the problem is when the Chain sees the side effects (I can imagine Wild paling and outright panicking if we're going the Azura route, like, Malice like energy crawling up their body, attacking it for daring to drive it away, Player trying to muffle their pain but inevitably screaming like a Redead under the sun, it crawling up Player's body until they fade into water or wind if they over do it), though it could also be that they spit blood if they over do it, I don't know, just a thought and an excuse for the Chain to watch Player be a good singer and dance, completely at ease as the fairies relax while listening to them, or the Loftwings trying to accompany Player by chirping along or Wolfie joining in, or maybe a full blow songstress au which is niggling at the back of my head (basically it boils down to Songstress knowing Fierce Deity from way back when, and it has quite a few bad endings for each of the Songstress' till we reach LU Modern Player Songstress). Maybe I'll go more in depth into it one day when I have more energy and time.

Anyway, hope you're having a nice day today, maybe I'll come back, maybe I'll ramble about theories about the hero before Wild, who knows, certainly not me.

-A Very Awkward and Sleep Deprived Anon

Thank you for specifying! And honestly the dynamic between him and Player would sound amazing, musical shenanigans all the way!

ALSO MUSICAL FIGHT SCENE I FUCKING LOVE IT- Player's definitely enjoying it too I mean this is really main character behaviour and they love it. (The boys are salty on the sidelines as he dips Player and somehow ends up with a rose in his mouth)

Listen, idk much about Cadence but if she's truly a gremlin she's gonna do just fine with Player, besties one might say and chaos will cover the land of Hyrule within seconds.

I'm not very knowledgeable when it comes to Fire Emblem so forgive me but this sounds cool! Honestly Player with musical magic just makes me really happy it's my favourite genre of magic.

(Also I would love to hear your thoughts on Seraph! Love the name Fia though ngl)

#cloud answers #Anon asks

[ezeverse-nextgen]

WOO FIRST INFODUMP POST

There's art in here I swear

Name: Princess flurry heart

Nickname(s): Flurry, Snowflake (Cadence), Princess dumbfuck (Pumpkin cake, affectionately of course)

Parents: Princess Mi Amore Cadenza (bio mom), Shining armor (bio dad), Sunset shimmer (stepmom)

Body type: TALL

Special talent: A unique connection directly to the crystal heart

Flurry heart was the sole child to come from the union of shining armor and princess cadence, and much like in the show she was born an alicorn. With regular magic outbursts and an affinity for causing trouble her baby years were a bit chaotic for her parents. But she wasn't what caused their union to shatter. Cadence and shining armor's story pretty much follows the same as canon all the way up to a canterlot wedding, but that's where things begin to shift. After his run in with Queen chrysalis shining armor just isn't the same, he drinks a lot more than he used to, he's very distrustful of cadence at random intervals, and cadence would occasionally catch him talking to himself. He never put in much effort to bond with his daughter, even though flurry heart wanted it more than anything, however things took a turn on her 6th birthday. The entirety of the crystal empire was roaring in celebration, there were more gifts than she could count and it felt like the crystal heart itself was shining within her...but something was missing. She hadn't seen her dad all day, as much as cadence swore everything was okay she could feel the hurt in her mother's eyes, so she goes to hunt down shining armor herself. She spent what felt like hours tediously grooming through every single room in the castle until she came upon one of the old studies and heard a conversation just beyond the door. It was her father and the voice of a mare she couldn't quite pinpoint...no. She slammed the door open and much to her horror, there lay her father bedded with some random unicorn she'd never seen before. It was in this moment that flurry's world shattered, she could barely see her father rushing towards her in a panic through the tears in her eyes as she wailed at the top of her lungs. She sounds echoed through the castle and in what felt like mere moments cadence was running down the hall and met her daughter's tear filled eyes from the doorway. She looked at her, then shining armor, then the mare on the bed and the pieces began to connect, if pain were tangible it would be laced around the room like spider webs. The shouting quickly became so overbearing that words couldn't even be made out through the chaos. Flurry broke free of shining armor and took refuge in her mother's wing as cadence subconsciously tried to shield her from the agony that filled the room and began to spill out into the rest of the castle. Emotions so powerful that the crystal heart began to flicker, and flurry heart's vision clouded over with black dots, the last thing she managed to whisper out before she was rendered completely unconscious was a heartbroken "momma?".

She doesn't remember much else from that day, or that month even because she didn't wake back up until around 3-ish weeks later, something cadence is grateful for. She didn't have to see the gossip, the fight to kick shining armor out of the castle, the ponies questioning the princess of love if she couldn't even keep her own husband. With what seemed like a gravely ill daughter and a husband who had broken her heart, cadence was very depressed for a good while, it was support from the mane 6, especially twilight, that helped her back on her feet. She slowly brought love and harmony back to the crystal empire, and not long after, flurry heart woke up.

Flurry is an adult in my Ngverse and she absolutely loathes her father. She adores all of her siblings and her step mom, and in her eyes she has the "most perfectest family ever"

After cadence and shining armor's falling out, Cadence didn't know what to do with herself. She then took it upon herself to reform sunset shimmer on her own, partially to be a distraction from the grief, after finding out she was set to be banished from Equestria forever due to the events of Equestria girls. After speaking to sunset's brother, sunburst, cadence seeks out sunset shimmer and allows her to take residence in the crystal empire while she's being reformed. She's not allowed to leave the city, and she has to have guards watch over her whenever she leaves royal grounds. But of course knowing Cadence, shes a bit lax on the rules and allows Sunset to go out and enjoy festivals and such (while accompanying her of course) and sunset grows to enjoy the company of her "annoying little shoulder angel." They soon become really close, and eventually best friends. A solid 5 or so years go by and Sunset shimmer is officially declared reformed and free to roam equestria once again, but a part of her doesn't want to go. She truly enjoys being around Cadence, and though she didn't admit it she had fallen in love. The realization hit her one night when cadence let her sleep in her room after a particularly bad nightmare, and she ended up waking up to the princess cuddles around her despite being so much smaller. Luckily for her, the feeling was mutual, and the rest is history. They got married about a year after, and a couple years after that had their first child, Tender morning.

Name: Tender Morning Lullaby

Nicknames: Morning (most) Moona (Passion fruit), momo (sunset and cadence)

Parents: Princess Mi Amore Cadenza and Sunset Shimmer

Siblings: Passion Fruit, Flurry heart (half sister)

Species: Moderate unicorn

Body type: tall and slim

Special talent: Singing and Music

Tender Morning was the second child to enter the royal family of the crystal empire, and the first to come from the marriage of Cadence and Sunset. From the moment she was born Morning was adored by the kingdom, she represented the rebirth of love amongst the empire after cadence and shining armor's divorce, and symbolized a new beginning. She was Sunset's first experience caring for a baby and she was terrified, sure she was reformed now but she was worried she wouldn't make a good mom, what if she made her kid turn out like she was?? Luckily cadence was there to guide her through it and the two raised Morning lovingly. Flurry was ecstatic to have a younger sibling, and is still basically attached to her at the hip in their adulthood. Things in the empire are going smoothly, However, when she was around 6 things began to change. Tender morning was born in a colt's body and never liked it, but she never quite voiced this until after she had her first lesson at sweet apple acres after meeting big Mac. (See: Destiny is but a suggestion)

The first pony she tells is actually her younger sister by a year, passion fruit, who welcomes her new sister with open arms and lots of hugs. Sunset Shimmer walks in on Passion fruit giving Morning a makeover one day, to which morning begins to uncontrollably sob. Sunset panics and gets cadence because she's terrified of being a bad mother (calm down sunset, just hug your kid) and after a conversation the entire family pulls each other into a big group hug and the following day the announce the newfound princess Tender Morning Lullaby! Most of the kingdom is overwhelmingly supportive and many even drop off gifts like dresses and such at the door of the castle, but of course the empire isn't without it's assholes. There are a few ponies who are very unaccepting of Morning and continue to refer to her as things such as "prince", which makes her deeply upset. Cadence has to stop sunset from physically fighting every pony she sees side eyeing her daughter, but as she gets older Morning cares less and less about the opinion of those around her. She currently spends her time writing songs in the castle's back garden, and never really goes out much aside from doing charity work. Her voice is actually quite popular both inside and outside of Equestria, though she sings under a stage name so nopony actually knows her voice is her

That is until she meets a certain pony mechanic, Strawberry pie, then she suddenly seems much more willing to travel outside of the empire and go and do new things. Morning is the most carefree of all her sisters, flurry is preparing to take the throne someday, passion fruit is working as head of the guard, and Morning tends to be in charge of planning events like the yearly pride parade and festivals :>

Tender morning's first interaction with Shining Armor is actually the incident that permanently shatters his horn, flurry is very protective of her baby sister.

Name: Passionate Fruition or passion fruit for short

Nicknames: Cass (most common), Fruitcake (cadence), Sibs (Tender morning)

Parents: Princess Mi Amore Cadenza and Sunset Shimmer

Siblings: Tender morning, flurry heart (half sister)

Body type: short and stocky

Species: Adept unicorn

Special talent: Strategy and Offensive magic

Passion fruit was Sunset and Cadence's second daughter born a year after Morning. She wasn't planned but both of her mothers still endlessly dote on her nonetheless.

Being born from a truenicorn and an alicorn left passion fruit with some ridiculously strong magic, something she struggles to control through many of her young years. But once she has it under control she begins to work towards her passion, she wants to join the Royal guard and rise past her mother's ex-husband for what he did to her and her big sister. And she does.

As an adult passion fruit heads the canterlot and Crystal empire joint Royal guard, a very revered position. Not only is she magically adept, but she has natural skills in strategy and planning. Her favorite game is chess after all. She was always a fighter according to Cadence, from standing up for her sister as a filly(sometimes attempting to fist fight full grown adults) to knowing how to successfully sneak cookies as a baby without getting caught. On the side however, Passion fruit loves to paint. Sure it's not her "special talent" but she is damn good at it, which was something she got from Sunset. She is incredibly close with her sister, and would defend her tooth and hoof no matter what the situation was. She does struggle with self image issues however, she has moderate hip dysplasia from when she was a filly in a hoofball incident (she got crushed by a colt almost 3 times her size) so she can find herself limping if she overexerts for long periods of time. She hasn't let that stop her however, and she has been known to run without that hoof touching the ground at all. She seems to have someone crushing on her at all times too, she doesn't particularly mind but she doesn't see herself dating or anything like that in the foreseeable future, she doesn't like the idea of being tied down so much.

Being the shortest out of all the royals passion fruit tends to lean up against her older sister flurry heart (the tallest) so she feels a bit more secure about it all. She has an exceptionally good relationship with both of her mothers and most members of her family, she doesn't trust one member however. Midsummer Sun always has such a dark look about her, surely something was going on..

BOOM POW THAT WAS A LOT! props to you if you stuck through and read it all!!

#mlp next gen #my little pony next gen #my little pony #mlp #princess cadence #sunset shimmer #mlp au #flurry heart

[bayisdying]

Bruised Knuckles

A spin-off of Blast From The Past by @gracespicybradshaw

Tagging the others: @dragon-kazansky @mrsjaderogers @cycbaby @breadsquash @callmemana @callsignthirsty @kloofspeaks @notyoursbutlewis @milesdickpic

Fanboy was used to Lucky picking fights with people way bigger than her, and he was always there to clean her up. Sometimes though? Sometimes he wishes she wouldn't put herself in danger.

When they had gotten to the Bradshaws' cottage he made a beeline to Baylie. He knew who he married, if Grace was in danger? Baylie was going to swing. He just prayed she hadn't been hit. Bruised knuckles he could handle with no problem, but if she was actuallt hurt? Ryan didn't have to worry about Bradley. He would have to worry about him.

"I'm fine." She said before he could even make it all the way to her, he noticed however the way she was holding her right hand. She definitely got punches in.

"I'm sure you are fine, but please let me see the damage."

She reaches out her right hand, knuckles already swelling and bruising. He notices the blood.

"It's his blood, I definitely broke his nose and split his lip." Her voice is void of her normal cadence, it's matter-of-fact.

"Well I'm happy to hear that." He tries to joke. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"No."

He knows she's trying to put on a brave face, he knows she's hurting more than she's letting on. That's his girl, never letting anyone see her hurt. Before he could even tell her he would be right back with the first aid kit, Ice is handing it over to him with a look that said "take care of her."

He makes her sit down on the front steps as he gathers what he needs to fix her back up.

"Are you going to sit still while I do this?" He asks, knowing her answer.

"As long as you don't make it hurt."

He chuckles lightly, she could punch a man no problem but he goes to clean her wounds? She turns into a whiny baby. He dabs a cotton swab into the peroxide.

"This is going to sting."

"You're so mean to me." She whines, and jumps when the peroxide touches her knuckles. "God damn it."

"I told you it was going to sting."

"You didn't say it was going to sting that bad." She pouts.

"Would you just sit still so I can do this Bay?"

She sits as still as she can, watching everything happening around them to keep her mind off the fact that she wanted to cry. Once her knuckles were cleaned, he placed a soft kiss to all of them then he wrapped them up. Ice handed her an ice pack, and Mickey made damn sure she had it sitting where it needed to be.

"Thank you for always cleaning me up babe." She smiles up at him and kisses him softly.

"I'll always clean up my little fighter."

"If you two are done, the cops need Baylie's statement." Ice said from the porch.

"Yeah yeah yeah, I'm coming Papa."

She reaches out for Mickey, and together the two of them make their way inside. Fanboy and his little fighter.

#top gun #top gun maverick #mickey fanboy garcia #baylie lucky steele #lucky x fanboy #bradley rooster bradshaw #tom iceman kazansky #grace spicy bradshaw #alana cinco metcalf #jake hangman seresin #callsign lucky #fanboy x lucky

[cato-of-blamesociety]

32 Weeks Tracklist/Song Picks pt. 2 (weeks 9-16)

How/Why did I choose/chose to use the songs I did

*Full breakdown, updated in real time(weekly)*

9. Hurt Feelings x Mac Miller

I have to be completely honest. I never was a fan/gave Mac a chance until after he passed. I had begun listening to Anderson.Paak. Going through his discography was so fun. I get to Oxnard and "Cheers" gives me chills. Q-tip is on here repping for Phife- Dawg and then Paak is pouring out his soul saying he misses his friend (Mac). From that point I made it a mission to check Miller out. I wasn't impressed at first. As a rapper (who started in middle school) I was shocked that this kid made it anywhere. I keep listening. I start to understand his concept, his target audience, and realize that he is developing into something major. Macadelic was interesting to me, as well as Watching Movies.... This time period in hip hop was weird to me at the time, but going back it all makes sense. I cringed my way through Faces...I hated it first because..spoiler we know how Mac goes out and he is taunting us through out this whole album(today, I understand/appreciate his work on that project and it is a big inspiration for me with 32 Weeks). Go:od Am was a fav, as he seems more healthy and is trying to get better. I fucked with that album heavy. Divine Femine was an instant classic. I shared with my wife and we enjoy it together. Now, I must add, during this dive into Mac's cuts, I also stumbled across Dissect Podcast. The guys on there broke down everything and made me truly feel closer to Mac's Swimming in Circles. I cried so much in the fall of 2021. I had been through hell, and his lyrics just made it all make sense. Fast forward to 2023. I knew I wanted to incorporate Mac's tracks in my project but didn't know where to start. I did know I did not want to fool with Self-Care. I landed on Hurt Feelings. This beat had me unleash my pent up frustrations in dealing with members of my group that weren't moving with the same pace as me. I get it, you aren't ready, but at the same time, don't bring yourself down. I truly wanted, especially one in particular, to just be ok with himself. I wanted him to know that yes, Cato is grinding, but it is for all of us. In the meantime, support me by answering the phone, sharing ideas, and take care of yourself. Unfortunately, a few days before this track was posted, another group member(my best friend) was in a fatal car accident. So now even though the song is suppose to be a pep talk, lowkey it now feels like a send off. I also recorded a 32weeks track to Mac's Wings...more on that when the time gets closer. Anyway, if you read all of this, I appreciate you. I hope you are enjoying 32 weeks, because like most hero journeys, it is only going to get more darker before the sun come out. "Took a snapshot of hope, put it in a frame. Reminding us that sunshine always follow rain. It is what it is, found purpose through my pain...ooooo, yeah, yeah." *also, try to pick out as many Mac lyric references as possible!!

10. Ms. Mural x Lupe Fiasco

This verse started out as an oldie. I had never finished it. I had initially wrote it to a JID type beat on Youtube. When I was going through rhymes and searching more beats, I knew I wanted to incorporate Lupe Fiasco's Drill Music In Zion. There are so many sweet beats to choose from...however, 1. at the time it was hard to find other instrumentals from the album, and 2. Ms Mural had the right tempo, haunting-ness, and cadence for a verse about grief to be delivered. The album itself is of course fire. Lupe does a lot of stuff that I don't want to ruin here, but makes it worth a listen. Ms Mural is like the 3rd installment of the "mural" collection which makes it even more cooler. One thing I will spoil about the album is the fact that Lupe allows the beats to breathe. He knows when to not speak, when to just let the music speak to us. To me, its like he took his time, and was like "here you go little brother, vibe to this beat for a minute before it goes off". This felt like love and very much appreciated it. Not gone lie, the times he allows the beat to ride, had me in tears. Sh*t is beautiful lowkey. *Sidenote, this will drop 9/14, and we bury my friend on 9/18. Pain of loss is tricky. To those dealing with death right now, I hope you are taking care of yourself. If no one told you that they love you today, just know that I do!! #32weeks

11. Massa x Tyler, the Creator

Ok, I used to be ashamed to say this but now Tyler actually confirms/validates me. I never was a fan of Tyler, or the Odd-future crew. I remember Yonkers dropping, and I heard the beat first. Definitely sick(in a good way lol). Then a co-worker showed me the video…my first reaction, ewwww! I knew that bug had to be fake…I was wrong. I just knew he was doing this all for clout/going viral. That part may be slightly true, however in “Massa” (and in several interviews) Tyler just flat  says that he was going through his own development and really didn’t know how to express it. I mentioned before, that I am a huge fan of “Dissect Podcast”. Cole and the other talking head helped me understand Tyler’s direction/trajectory since stepping on the scene. They breakdown Flowerboy, and  Igor and really help listeners grasp the major art this man is giving us. Call Me If You Get Lost was an instant hit/classic to me following the previous albums. He has DJ Drama on here doing his thing, Tyler is more on par with living his life and bettering himself, and is spitting some dope lines/bars. I knew that when I began 32 Weeks I needed a Tyler track. Several tracks on the album stuck out but there was something about the intro, and the way the beat comes in, with Massa that had me keep it on repeat. The opening lines I came up with were supposed to be super gritty and cheeky at the same time. On the project, death, and the fact that we can’t out run it, is heavily on this project and well…what happens after we die? The natural move was to begin talking about spirituality and how I or we, or people in general perceive God and religion. At this time, my son was truly asking about God and who that person is. He had been talking with a classmate and his friend actually shared his thoughts with my son. I chose to not mock or shut it down. I chose to expand on that knowledge. We had some great talks about it. I usually spoke freely about God in my music but at this point, not this extent, where I am on the skeptical/unsubscribed side of things. I started my own spiritual journey back in 2012, finally expressing to my mom in 2016 that I no longer follow Christ. Naturally she thought she made a mistake with me but that’s not true. Anyway, due to the people I know hearing this, and maybe thinking they knew me and now they may feel some type of way, has caused me to feel higher levels of anxiety. Since it dropped today (9/21/23) I already feel slightly better. I respect everyone’s beliefs, faith, and religion. But If you ask me why I feel like I do, I will tell you. Anyway, if you are reading this, thank you for spending your time with me. I love you and appreciate you.

12. The Halo x Marconi Union

I have this weird thing were I can be inspired to write from any type of music. I actually fell in love with Marconi Union during my Graduate School years. I had been procrastinating on a 30 page paper that was due the next day or so. I was freaking out, high anxiety and the works. I remembered that someone had mentioned this track called Weightless. Weightless is/was known for relieving stress because its totally lofi, but also moves at 60 bpm which instinctively helps us slow down and relax. Weightless was so successful that fans were requesting a longer version. The band made an 8 minute version and a 30 minute version. On youtube you can find a 10 hour version(linked above)! Since then, I have fallen in love with their catalog. On a specific day during the 32 weeks writing phase, I had a rough morning with my oldest son. I can’t remember exactly what the issue was but the feeling left me empty, like doubting my abilities as a father. On the route to drop him and his brother off at school, I put on “Signals” the 2021 album released by Marconi Union. I was like ‘yeah that’s how it feels right now.” The Halo starts to play and I began humming along. Words began coming…”Even if I fly…I still fall..” “I knew that if I came with all the proof…” It was on this day I realized that I had the power to take an emotion and turn it into sound that can resonate with humans and connect us. I hope that the track makes up feel seen and understood. I hope that you realize you are stronger than you know/feel, and that even though we fall, we can always get back up. My favorite line: “Doubting all my might is like the crushing blow, won’t get back up this time..”. – This is a reminder that doubt kills dreams, don’t let it kill yours!

13. Leslie Odom Jr x Wait For It (Hamilton Musical)

I know that people everywhere already remixed/redid/parodied/etc the Hamilton Musical. This is one is technically an older instrumental for me to use as well. However, when I was in the writing process for 32weeks, I was struggling to find the next instrumental, but I remembered this album and started listening more. Because I was late to the musical (I caught it on Disney plus when it was released on the platform in 2020) it still feels new to me. All I can say is Lin is a genius. In all the [cinematic] works that he has contributed to musically, you can hear his rhymes penetrate the material making it elevate to greatness. Hamilton has so many noteworthy tracks I wanted to use such as “Nonstop”,  “Guns and Ships” or a huge favorite “The Reynold’s Pamphlet”  but there is something about the tenderness, yet strength that operates on “Wait For It" that always moves me to tears…not really sadness, more like peace that somethings we just have to wait for. Leslie delivers an amazing performance that truly takes Lin’s words, and turns them into a mood worth revisiting.  In this track, I breakdown the timeline of the inception of B.L.A.M.E. , the decline, and now resurgence of the idea. It is a reminder that this music is therapeutic, personal, and keeps me feeling gratitude that I can create.

14. SZA x Kill Bill

Let's just clear the air right now....yeah everything I write is true, and to the best of my memories ability...especially when dealing with events that happened so long ago. This one was hard to write but before we dive into that, I want to acknowledge Sza. SOS has been viewed as a long awaited project and she totally delivers. The album is filled with awesome musicality's. Specifically, Kill Bill for whatever reason just laid on my heart. When writing 32weeks, this instrumental stuck out the most to me. I vibed with it. Those opening lines came to me easily, because I wanted to make it clear that I am happy with my life right now, and do not intend to try to revive old love lost. I believe if you pay attention, you can hear my honesty piercing through. I didn't want to hold back. A lot of the events or relations I discuss, could each have their own song. The longest one I talk about is the betrayal of a female friend who lied to her family that I slept with her, got her pregnant, and God knows what else, all to protect the parents' friend she was actually laying with. It hurt because I had no idea and people, such as a love interest, were mad at me for this and I was confused. I had been meaning for a long time to write about it, but the words never came out right. This time around I vomited it all out. Hell, I still have the Facebook messages of this person denying the info her brother gave me. In the end, the idea is to forgive, let live, and move forward. By writing all this out, and expressing hope that her and all the others find peace and happiness, has made me feel at peace myself. I can finally put that mess to rest. I am grateful for the woman I have in my life. If you are reading this just know that you are worthy of love, peace, and respect. Those young adult years get messy. My hope for you is that you navigate it all with courage and integrity. I hope you enjoy the visuals, and the music. If no one has told you today that they love you, I do!

15. Vince Staples x Take Me Home

Look, ever since I got hipped to Mac, I got pulled into Vince Staples. The Stolen Youth tape introduced me to vince and of course his feature on FACES x Rain made me go back and chech his whole discography. When I caught up on Staples' work, I believe he was just then released/releasing his self-titled record,"Vince Staples" album. I played it just about everyday. I love his authencity as a person who really doesn't love being a "rapper" but rather sees it as a way to connect to creating a better life for him. He is pretty candid about it and I respect it because even though thats true, he still puts effort and honesty in his music. When I was writing 32Weeks I knew I would incorporate Vince in the mix. This album had many tracks I wanted to utilize but Take Me Home(start at 8.14 mark), just takes the cake. The instrumental always give me chills, and the opening line...I knew from the jump I was gonna flip it for myself. "I don't wanna die, but I will for the cause...". I switched it to "I don't wanna kill but I will for my loves". I set my intro as my family means alot to me, and I do what I have to to protect them. After that the verse started coming out of me as a moment to reflect on my childhood. This mostly encumbers issues of race, bullying, loss, fitting in, and just how it all progressed from elementary to high school. As far as track number, it sits right before the halfway mark, adding to the 2nd phase of #32weeks doubt, self pity, and really just the dark themes expressed and explored in phase 2. I visit another Vince track later in the tape and I can't wait to share it with you. The visuals in this release use imagery from John Wick, Us, Get Out, interviews with Wayne Brady/Michael Blackson, Big Mouth, and Coach Carter. If you are reading this, I appreciate your time and hope you are doing ok. I love you, and I hope you tell someone you love today, that you love too! We never know what people are going through, but when we have the love of others surrounding us, we feel like we can handle anything!

16. J. Cole ft. 21 Savage, Morray x My Life

So....I don't know if J. Cole is my favorite rapper, however I do find myself revisiting his albums often. 2014 Forest Hills Drive was a turning point I really fell in love with this man's craft. I appreciated his shift in conscious, attempting to distribute a more positive and uplifting message in his music. Kendrick is one I feel has mostly focused on giving us the type of love in his music, specifically in his albums. Kendrick though, can kind of come off too complex/deep to point one may miss the message. Cole's approach is so laymen in approach that you can't miss the message but at the same time you still contemplate what he is getting at. 2021 was a rough year for me. Especially going into the fall school year, The Off Season presented so many affirmations and motivations for me to push harder to make it through. Tracks like Amari, hell the opening track ft. Cam'ron! Cam is an emcee I grew up listening to, had mad respect for, but haven't checked for in a while. Hearing his voice amp up Cole gave me chills. When I was writing 32weeks, I knew I would use a Cole beat...but which one?? I wanted it to me more recent, but like all tracks I use, I wanted it to be meaningful to me. On 'My Life', the opening lines of the sample, Cole talking about how we can't rush God, the way he opens his verse, and 21 Savage's flow all contribute to me falling hard for this track. So around my 14th/15th verse(I didn't necessarily write these in tracklist order that you come to know) I was really nervous and losing hope. Guys, I truly didn't think I could write 32 verses...especially in the time frame I set for myself. But then, I don't know what happened. I played this instrumental and I instantly heard in my head "Spiraling up, just like my ancestors DNA. Hashtag 32 weeks, my nigga we halfway!" Then the idea of using the length of the beat (just over 2 minutes) as a vessel taking me back in time to warn my younger self seemed like the right move. I mostly focus on the mistakes of not going all in with music, not seeing how much Erin truly was the one the whole time, and not standing on my own like I should have back then. I end the track with singing to my younger self that although things seem dark right now, listening to me now, things will workout. Unfortunately, I didn't heed those warnings. Sometimes we have to be hard headed and go through trials and tribulations in order to develop into the person we needed/were always meant to be. With all that said, I hope you feel this one. The relief I feel right now is the same sentiment it was when writing that 16th verse. Now, it has been the 16th video, and I feel like I can truly complete what I started. Besides, whether people see this or hear this, the goal is for me to do this for me....and I am!

#tyler the creator #mac miller #lupe fiasco #marconi union #Youtube #hamilton musical #lin manuel miranda #leslie odom jr #sza #kill bill #Home #Vince Staples #Norf norf #jcole #mylife #21 savage