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spiritualgateway · 3 years

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You are your own creation

written by Steven Black:

At least since „Seth“, we all know the famous sentence: „You are the creator of your own reality. “

Fine.

But we usually overlook the most important point, namely the center of where everything happens.

OUR SELF!

The very personal kind of evaluations we make about ourselves creates our human personality. The identity as which we know and experience ourselves. This is how it manifests itself. Our stream of evaluations leads to patterns of conviction and to a certain belief structure. And with this we then identify ourselves, which sets a certain dynamic in motion through which we will attract and experience certain things.

The core of the center lies in what we believe about ourselves, how we feel about ourselves and how we think about ourselves. This in turn is closely related to what kind of experiences we have already had. And how we have then judged these experiences. If we really want to understand the phrase – „You are the creator of your own reality“ – then it is valuable if we look at the stream of evaluation that we generate about ourselves throughout our lives. Second by minute, day by week for months for years and decades.

The person we are now is the product of many years of incessant evaluations and definitions about ourselves.

Sure, before we are born, we put together a kind of blueprint – with certain character traits, talents and inclinations, in order to be able to have certain experiences. And of course, when we come to Earth, we go through an imprinting process that will activate this Blueprint. We go through education by parents and the school system, learn cultural, social and societal collective beliefs and much more. In this way we learn to think in a certain way and to classify things, circumstances, people and situations – we adopt the definitions and evaluations that have been given to us.

In fact, it is only the basic training for being human at the moment, it is not the „wisdom last resort“.

Much more important for our human experience are our judgements about ourselves – which we make again and again (mostly very unconsciously) permanently. We constantly make comparisons and constantly generate our very personal interpretations about other people, life, our experiences and ourselves. And this, of course, first on the basis of what we have been taught.

All these interpretations, evaluations and definitions flow to what we call the subconscious and bundle there into beliefs (beliefs). This is called programming; this is how a program is written – and it is we ourselves who write it. Minute by minute for hour for day, months and years.

Beliefs become a program that works continuously without us having to consciously think about things. Belief systems are automatically formed after a certain amount or load of (good or bad) evaluations we have made about our experiences. Beliefs are nothing more than a condensation of evaluation streams that accumulate within us over time.

Each one of us is a creative soul, each one creates his own reality – without exception. And we create with the highest possible commitment: with ourselves.

However we evaluate ourselves, whatever beliefs and ideas we may develop about ourselves – we ourselves bear the consequences. Because we will then have to live this idea we have about ourselves.

We usually believe that it is only our experiences – the good and the less good – that influence our ways of thinking and acting. This is only partly true – I mean, of course experiences shape us. But much more important for the subsequent shaping is our personal evaluation of the perceptions and experiences we have made. For an impressive imprint a certain form of meaning is necessary. Meanings do not exist „just like that“, a meaning is created by weighting. By different evaluations within a certain context and by the feeling or an emotion that co-creates this evaluation. I have to evaluate things in order for them to have a meaning for me personally. This means that the meaning that any things, situations, people, and diverse experiences have for us is co-determined and shaped by ourselves.

Of course, when we are young and inexperienced, we will usually „blindly“ follow the definitions and evaluations that we have been taught. No matter how good, healthy, disabling, limiting or valuable they are. As we get older, we will probably realize at some point how many of these are not really ours. Then, at some point, we will probably make adjustments and think differently.

For example, if we often had the experience of being criticized as a child, we will develop an „inner critic“ over time. Considering the fact that there is a psychological study that says that a child up to the age of 5 is criticized about 40,000 times, we can safely assume that almost everyone develops an „inner critic“. The „Inner Critic“ emerges as a kind of protective function for the child.

He criticizes with the „good intention“ of sparing the child further criticism, which of course does not work. The Inner Critic is usually associated with a parent’s voice or that of another important caregiver. And what they say must be true, right? We quickly make the experience that we can rarely meet the requirements and so we develop additional feelings of guilt and shame. The heard criticism, together with the emotional reaction in us, leads to an often traumatic impact in our consciousness. The more often this happened, the more often we were criticized, the more often we felt shame about it, the more a conviction structure condenses and bundles itself in us, which approximately says: You are not valuable, you are not enough, you are … blah-blah-blah. We then believe that.

The vehemence and psychological scope of this „inner critic“ may vary individually, but the point is: You create a thought form that will accompany you and tell you unpleasant things about yourself until you start to stop and find a way to stop it. Because – you are hitting yourself …

In eastern spiritual traditions the „monkey mind“ has been blamed for centuries. The „stupid (monkey) mind“ that just does what it wants – as if it had its own life and its own decisions that have nothing to do with you. The solution to this problem was then – just don’t judge anymore. This is in my eyes a very immature idea, because the mind has no own ideas and no own consciousness – it is a function, like a kind of operating system, which does, repeats and executes what WE have given it to work. Our brain works with what it is offered.

And if we keep making devaluations about ourselves, what will keep coming up?

No matter how much other people may criticize you. No one can criticize you as badly, rob you of your own value and strength as you rob yourself. The consequence of this will be that we will be plagued by countless fears, physical tensions and insecurities – which will of course also be triggered by the outer world. The outer world always reflects our inner world in a special way. If you get criticism from the outside, it will most likely bring up the old shame inside you, which reflects the conviction that you are worth nothing. This in turn will throw up another chain of self-critical thoughts, which are usually suppressed as quickly as possible.

As long as we are still unconscious, we will devalue the other and call him an asshole because he makes us feel that way. But it really hits us, because deep inside of us there is a conviction that correlates – even if only a little – with this criticism. That’s why it hurts, because something in us says – that’s right. No matter how wrong that may be. It is inside of us. The person in question may still be an asshole, but he is not responsible for how I feel about it. The statements trigger and activate the content, which we ourselves have already evaluated countless times in this or similar ways (for whatever reason) and also hide it from ourselves. If this is touched, it hurts. If we had no subject with it, it would not hurt so much.

But you only check it after you have worked your ass off on your topic. Not before – as long as we are only focused on the outer world and its dynamics, we are more likely to make classifications and evaluations that are based on a victim and perpetrator spiral. Me, the poor victim and the evil perpetrator.

Sure, from the outside it looks the same in its EFFECT. But there is always a complex dynamic behind it that has unfolded. We can either learn something important about ourselves from it or we simply repeat and repeat and repeat this dynamic. And we will repeat it if we are not aware of it.

I know this has been a very strong example of how you create your own reality. An example that can show us that the esoteric idea that everyone creates their reality quasi-consciously is quite unrealistic. We create a lot of unconscious dynamics and weird behaviors because at some point we just didn’t know better. Because basically nobody taught us how to deal with ourselves. And so it is in most cases, life is based on trial and error dynamics when we know very little about how our own system operates.

As long as we do not deal with our own consciousness and inner world, we simply take for „God-given“ who we are and how we think about ourselves. So much mindfuck accumulates there and also the images and ideas we have about relationships, success, money, politics and thousands of other ideas are based on various evaluations and definitions that we have very rarely questioned. Most of the time they simply do not apply (anymore).

As you can see, we are actually deep inside the topic of „self-love“ (whatever that may mean).

Namely: How do I deal with myself?

How we think about ourselves, how we evaluate ourselves and how we feel with ourselves has an enormous importance for our personal development. It also has a great influence on which connections our brain synapses develop, which ones we expand or whether some of them are broken at all. The state of our brain and all its connections correlate closely with our thoughts and emotions, as well as our actions.

The axis of meaning

We cannot do without ratings!

I have to rate something as great, exciting, important, boring, euphoric, insignificant, desirable, aborting, likeable, good or bad (etc; etc.) in order for it to have this meaning for me at all. Through evaluations, like „yes, I like“ or „no you, don’t bother“. Evaluations, how difficult or easy the respective situation is or was for us to cope with. Ratings, how to deal with it in the future – acceptance, affirmation or avoidance. These evaluations are made on the basis of permanent comparisons between past and present. And they are extrapolated to future developments. This feeds our expectations of how things will happen in the future …

As mentioned above, there are of course also meanings whose context has been shaped by other people or society. Because they are simply taken over and regarded as „given facts“. Every meaning has a kind of weight. How heavy it is depends on how important we consider those who taught and taught us various meanings. But a really strong weight they get from us, if it really concerns us and we make an experience about it. Until then, it has more of an abstract meaning, the weight of which has been shaped by others.

The weighting of a meaning is usually only given when we have experience with it and have repeatedly given the same or at least similar evaluations of it. OR relatively quickly, as soon as we are violently „hit“ by an emotional wave – positive or negative in nature.

EMOTION IS A RESPONSE TO WHATEVER WE BELIEVE IS TRUE

Every emotion and feeling is a reflection of the energy of negative or positive judgement that we have defined and put into it. Emotions are reaction patterns that show us what we believe in. We condition the way we feel. And this means that a feeling or an emotion does not necessarily have to be true. But it feels very, very true. Sometimes so true, so devastating, depressing and depressingly true that you get stuck in it for a long time. You can also forget about the highly praised „gut feeling“ – because that too is based on resonances that have a connection to any kind of meaning and judgement. Sometimes they are correct, sometimes they are just avoidance, rejection or fear. Also „gut feeling“ is something you can only rely on if you are emotionally relatively clear.

Emotions contain a certain definition, the core of which is a wide range of evaluations that have formed into a conviction. This is the origin, the root of all emotions and also the reason why emotions can sometimes be violent and so overwhelming. The content cascade of countless mental and emotional evaluations is so extensive that we can feel overwhelmed by the respective charge of emotion. Emotions are the first and fastest reaction of our system to flush content – i.e. information from the subconscious – upwards. Imagine if all the thoughts and evaluations we have ever made on a topic suddenly appeared in our waking consciousness – I think that would be much more confusing.

That is why I never tire of emphasizing the value of feeling work. When I am „buried“ by emotional things, I sit down and sit with the emotion – I follow it to the center of (my own) hell. At some point the tangle of meaning unravels and I understand the definition behind it. And then I have the opportunity to see – is this now REALLY true? If so, is it still true now? Very often there are unresolved issues that reach far back into childhood. An emotion that hits you now can be an original situation or experience from childhood, with all the definitions given to it, some of which have – even if only slight – similarities to the current situation. The similarity is enough to trigger the emotional field.

Knowing the definition allows me to make a new assessment – either to reinforce and respond to it or to add a new perspective. This allows me to update my emotional content and my evaluation stream. In order for this to work, I have to sit with the emotion in question until it is halfway discharged. Charge = all of the given evaluations and received feelings. Sometimes this happens quickly, sometimes it can take months or even years. If energy has been put into something for years, it does not dissolve overnight.

Our assessments are rarely made by purely cognitive, logical or clear, sober conclusions alone. We judge situations not only by factual and cognitive criteria, but also how we feel about them. How we feel with it in turn directly reflects our underlying thoughts and beliefs. And the respective emotional perception will in turn lead to certain thoughts and evaluations about them. In this way, our beliefs are condensed. All of this flows incessantly into our „subconscious“, this is how we write our story.

We not only evaluate, we also evaluate our evaluations and our emotions in addition. This reinforces the whole pattern even more. So most of our evaluations have become „self-runners“. We do not question them. They simply continue.

We evaluate almost every perception, every thought, every feeling, every emotion:

The sky is blue – feels good. It is raining – rather bad. It is hot – shit. It is cold – shit. I have to go to work – fuck. The neighbor – is friendly, sexy, annoying, exhausting, cheeky, creepy – whatever. I am in a relationship – super. I’m in a relationship – my god, what was I thinking? A look in the mirror shows – I’m too thin, too fat, too big, too small, have too big/small breasts, have too little/too many muscles, everyone else looks better/worse than me.

I like Rock ’n Roll music/all brass music lovers are morons. Classical music is for snobs. My boyfriend/girlfriend has left me – my god, it feels so shitty/ jeez, I’m so glad about that. I have no money in the bank – my life is boring. I have no money in the bank – at least I don’t have any debts.

There are thousands of different evaluations we make about ourselves and things. The beliefs we have accumulated over the course of our lives are so deeply rooted in us that we are not even aware of them. This happens so fast within us that we are very, very rarely consciously aware of it. We simply take them as a given reality and overlook the fact that we ourselves formed this reality. With our evaluations we condition our personal reality and the kind of person we are. How we evaluate ourselves forms the personality we perceive ourselves as. The personality that we are attracts certain experiences because of their belief patterns. So yes, we all create our own reality …

As we evaluate, so do things appear to us. No matter what kind of beliefs we have, they tend to confirm themselves. We always find confirmation of what we believe.

Of course, we always have the choice to say – „well, I don’t like my reality and I’m going to sit in my corner defiantly, it’s not my fault“. Mostly, however, life forces us to continue learning, to adapt and to change. Sometimes in an absolutely unpleasant way – through pain, trauma or we are confronted with difficult diseases. With everything that gives us the opportunity to pause and realize that we have to go INSIDE to face the many challenges of human existence. Mostly we will only emerge stronger if we redefine ourselves.

No matter why we get stuck in something – we ourselves are the root. Only from there change can happen. If we do not change ourselves, our life, our reality, cannot change.

Alright! Then I just start to think differently!

Good luck with it.

Will not work.

Forget it!

I mean, if you don’t have a big issue with it, if you don’t have a serious emotional charge attached to it – then, yes, it can work. At least it’s a small start. But if that’s not the case, you will just have many and long „discussions“ and arguments against one of your „inner voices“. You will not win this fight this way. This is war with yourself and will only aggravate your inner condition.

Our evaluations are a decision from which perspective we choose to see things. Of course, this means that we can make and give other, new decisions, i.e., new evaluations regarding EVERYTHING. But as long as we have not discharged „the old“, as long as we are not clear about the definitions we have made – about whatever – we will be maltreated by the „old stuff“ of our old creation. That is the incredible power we have, we make LIVING and experiencing what we believe. And what we believe in, comes about through our very personal stream of evaluation.

The experience of our human personality is a flowing process that is never really complete, because there are so many possibilities and perspectives that we can experience ourselves again and again. We are not a rigid, fixed matter – it sometimes only appears that way. There is a lot of room to readjust or change that. It is possible to make new, better, clearer evaluations about ourselves. But sometimes this is one of the hardest transformation processes one can undergo.

Refine your inner world and you refine your reality

Basically we are never „finished“ unless we stop learning.

Until next time same station

DISCLAIMER:

Nothing you read here is THE truth. It is my truth, my perception and how I see things – now, in this moment.

THE INFORMATION SPACE

#creation #spiritual

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queen-of-my-goofball-army · 3 years

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"I may not be smart enough to do everything. But I'm dumb enough to try anything." (Beast Boy, Teen Titans)

"The first goofball that stole my heart just so happened to be one that has the power to change into any animal at will." (Me.)

Holy moly, was this edit the biggest pain in my ass to make. This one has been planned since I was making the one's for comfort character month in late June. The only problem was I kept getting Teen Titans Go bullshit so I had to put it on hold until I found enough images to make my edit done right.

Growing up in California my "neighbor" (I call him my neighbor but he lived a few streets down from my apartment building) his mom immigrated from Japan. He was hella into anime, video games, and everything else that came with it. He was the first person that showed me the original Teen Titans. At first I was relatively ambivalent about the show since nothing really drew me to it. Until I saw this little green dude turn into a dinosaur right before my eyes. I thought that was the coolest thing that I had ever seen at five years old. Then he made me laugh and it was the first time that my favorite character was considered the cute goofball "baby" of the team.

From the moment that I first saw Beast Boy I knew that he was something special. I had never seen anything like him in a cartoon before. It was the first time that I had laughed at anything that I actually remember being introduced to. This was before Kim Possible, and even though I was a fan of Spongebob before this I don't remember being introduced to him he was just always there. If it wasn't for my "neighbor" I probably wouldn't have found this show until I got older.

Beast Boy is just a goofball. That's his role in the group, he's the youngest and the "party animal" but to me he's always been deeper than that. My favorite episode "The Beast Within". This episode to me was when he went from being just sort of the kid brother to actually being a valid member of the team. It's such a beautiful and tragic episode where I already had a major emotional attachment to his character. When I get emotionally invested in something I go all out. This show was instantly something that was different. I had never seen anything quite like it before then. It took it's characters and developed them to their fullest potential. It treated children like adults and was basically Avatar pre Avatar. Both shows had similar types of comedy and similar dramatic storylines for it's characters. But as a kid I was definitely a Titan fan if I had to pick one over the other. Part of that was because of Beast Boy.

Throughout most of my childhood BB was always there for me. My Teen Titans OC Keiko was the first OC that I ever made when I was nine. It was a show where every character was perfectly developed to their highest potential. Most of my classmates that were into the show made fun of me because of my love of Beast Boy. He was just labeled as "idiot" and since I was very open about my love of the character they just automatically assumed that I was an idiot. Even though I was insulted consistently it never made my love for him falter really. I continued to love him all throughout elementary school making a personality for Keiko and figuring out what her role on the team would be, what her powers would be, her relationships and so forth.

I didn't watch Teen Titans for about eight years. When I finished my first quarter of community college I decided that I wanted to buy and rewatch the show. The series itself supported me when I had my mouth surgery done for the first time. My mouth surgery was a lot of pain and struggle for me to go through. Wisdom teeth is a pita let me tell you something about that. Laughter was something critical that got me through this situation. Rewatching this show and seeing Beast Boy as a young adult I found myself loving his personality even more. He's the light in the show that is nothing but darkness just about. Most of the humor comes from him but I couldn't help but love the character continued to grow all throughout my childhood. Rewatching the show I realized that these characters were so much deeper than I had originally thought at the age of five.

I was never a huge fan of Terra, in fact as a kid I hated her. She hurt BB and even though she redeemed herself I was still a lover of BBRae. Growing up I continued to love the sunshine one x grumpy one and it changed my life.

Throughout much of my childhood I grew up hearing Greg Cipes's Beast Boy voice coming through my television. Whether it be with TT or Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles when I got a bit older his voice is iconic. This is why I hate Teen Titans Go most of all. It's a waste of these actor's talent and it's a waste for these characters. To take a show that was so serious and make it all goofy all the time with bright colors and nausea inducing imagery, it felt like my childhood had slapped me in the face. I love these voice actors so much they were the voices of my childhood, especially Greg. It's been my dream to one day work with him on my own cartoon project because when I was designing Harold my hippy dragon that was the voice that came to my mind. Nobody sounds more like a beach bum than the literal voice actor beach bum on Venice Beach.

My childhood was spent watching my very first cartoon crush goofing around but also watching his character gradually develop over time. This show taught me valuable lessons about found family and learning to find your true place in the world. Even though a lot of these characters have to face constant tragedy I could always count on Beast Boy to be the light and the jokester. When he has an intense episode it's a drastic character change from his usual self. I loved those episodes with him because he always got character development. As a whole, other than Sokka to me Beast Boy was the goofball that I grew up with the most. He's my favorite character from a kids television show still to this very day. I think that he has the strongest power, the most versatile personality, and the best character arc on the show.

#teen titans #garfield logan #beast boy #favorite characters #comfort characters

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harrys-reverie · 4 years

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DOG YEARS // Harry Styles O.U.

PART 1: The Agreement

a/n: welcome! here is part 1 of my baby. I have been working on this for a while and I really hope you enjoy. Story is based off the song ‘dog years’ by maggie rogers, one of my favs. anyways, let’s get on with it! Any feedback, shares or likes are greatly appreciated! I want to get my work out there 🥺 ALSO PART 2 TMRW!

word count: 8k

STORY PAGE // PART 2 CLICK HERE

Take a look at it and really read through thoroughly. Don't hesitate to come to me with any questions, okay?" Eve, my boss smiled warmly at me as she handed me the stack of papers sitting between us. "I'm counting on you."

I nodded back at her wordless, feeling a bit uneasy but eager to give the pages a read. It was just about 9 am in the English countryside and the sun was beaming through the wood paneled floor to ceiling windows — giving the already bright room even more of an angelic haze. Dried lavender bouquets were placed among scattered piles of paperwork Eve had yet to get through. The cozy scent of tobacco-vanilla candles, signature scent of the Soho Farmhouse property were dangerously lit among heaving piles of paperwork. Overall, the room was the true essence of peace, yet I was feeling far from it as I held onto the paperwork Eve had just given me.

I wasn’t quite sure how I found myself in this position, not one bit. But here I was, having to scan over a fifteen or so page NDA for some high end guest who I was suggested to look after during their 4 month stay here at the Soho Farmhouse. It made little sense to me because I didn’t even know that was possible to stay here this long. This was a membership hotel not an extended stay home. I could only imagine the sort of prestige this mystery person had to pull this off.

I had only gotten the job as a waitress at one of the restaurants on our premises last month. Like whoever this mystery person is, I was temporary here too. I had just finished my university studies back in my hometown in California months prior. My nan who happened to live way out in the middle of England was extremely apologetic about not attending my graduation, and instead offered me a stay in England for 6 months. I figured I was in no rush to adult, and my parents finally obliged and I found myself on a multi hour flight here. The first two weeks in her house were enough to send me bat shit crazy, and I knew I needed a job. Unfortunately I wasn’t near the hustle and bustle of a massive city, so finding this job was God sent.

I quickly learned I was shit at waitressing. Eve took a chance on me and I knew she instantly regretted it, she was desperate to find an opening for something more suitable for me. I was desperate to take on any other role at the Farmhouse besides waiting tables — watering and maintaining the plants in the gardens, cleaning the stables, working the phones, or even monogramming our robes we give to the guests.

Fortunately for me, I agreed to this "special job for a special girl" as Eve quoted it, without truly knowing what exactly I had gotten myself into. Now here I was, knees dip in a situation that seemed like the most work of them all.

The wooden door shut creakily behind me as Eve stepped out to continue her role of head of the Farmhouse and prowl around the land to make sure everything was running smoothly. She had left me alone so I could read through the paperwork in a comfortable and quiet room. Really though I was feeling anything but as I looked back down at the legally binding pages in front of me.

"This Confidentiality Agreement is executed effective 3rd, of September 2020 between Colette Adkins (Party A) and Harry Styles (Party B)...

WHEREAS, Party A can not disclose any confidential information regarding Party B..."

My mouth partially dropped when I had seen the name, Harry Styles. Like, THE Harry Styles. What was he even doing here for four months, did he not have somewhere better to be? Like possibly in one of his many houses? He could stay cooped up in those mansions for months on end without having to lift a foot in the real world, I’m sure of it.

Unfortunately the countless numbered paragraphs under his name were more than confusing to understand, and there was almost 12 pages of them. From what I had gathered through a quick skim was that, 'none of this and none of that and none of anything' was allowed when it came to Harry Styles. I had to wonder how much terrible encounters the man had gone through in order to have to have so many stipulations when it came to just being in his presence

The fancy terms were hard to follow, and I found myself googling phrases I had never even heard of. I was now dubbed as a 'party' and Harry Styles being the other, and apparently from the looks of it Party A and Party B were two different levels of hierarchy. I had doubts that even Eve could properly understand all these 'guidelines.' I always heard such positive stories in the media about THE Harry Styles, that he was easygoing and friendly, a gentleman — this NDA said differently though. He seemed like a real nightmare. A nightmare I wasn’t sure I’d want to be working with for four months. Is his reputation just a huge hoax and he’s pulling an Ellen Degeneres on the whole world?

I knew most would find it foolish to pass up on such a opportunity, but if there was one thing I disliked it was being in situations where I couldn’t be fully myself. I was beginning to feel as if this position would be stripping me away of who I was and I’d just be some young girl at a massive millionaires beck and call.

On the flip side, it was a job after all and not every job was enjoyable. If his reputation held any truth, then this experience would be a breeze and I’d be stupid to not take it.

I reached for my phone at the bottom of my purse on my lap and clicked on Eve's contact to send her a quick text.

Colette: Harry Styles? This paperwork makes him sound like an ass. I’m not sure.

Eve: I'm coming back in to discuss this with you..

Just like that and Eve was already scurrying back into her office, a very serious look on her face, one of which I wasn't used to. I had a feeling she was just waiting outside the door the whole time.

"So what do I need to know? I mean, it can't be that hard...but...”I began casually, trying to understand what all her worry was for. Granted, I was just as much so.

She looked down at her phone that was pinging like crazy and then back to me. "It's not that it's hard, but this is a job that is strictly business. You have to live on premise in a 1 bed and 1 bath, always on the clock.” Oh.

"Not just that," Eve continued, "But, if anything and I mean anything gets out, legally there are repercussions. According to his manager, who you will meet — he's writing an album and has a few of his crew mates amongst the grounds in different cottages. It's very low-key, Colette. There's no room for a mistake or slip up."

Suddenly the morning sun seemed brighter than ever and I was squinting my eyes at her in confusion.

"So what, I’m basically Harry Styles little bitch for four months?" I didn’t mean for it to come off so harsh but I could see from Eve’s facial expressions she was a bit taken aback. Maybe that was a bad way to phrase it.

I was curious to know what my duties as Harry Styles' personal Soho Farmhouse assistant would be and if the tasks were just menial or true, hard work. I couldn't image it'd be more than popping up every hour or so with fresh coffee or tea, dropping off towels or bringing the cocktail bar on wheels over every once in a while.

"You know, I don't know," Eve laughed nervously. "It was a request from his management, he needed somebody to assist him with everyday tasks. So yes, maybe food requests and what not. He wants to maintain a low profile and if he's out biking throughout the grounds all the time, he won't have that confidentiality that he is requesting."

Oh, he got off lucky with not having to bike anywhere. If you know anything about the Soho Farmhouse, you know that it's hundreds of acres of land and to get anywhere on the grounds you had to bike there. Not that it was bad or anything, it was rather refreshing but could get quite annoying when you needed to be somewhere quick.

"Have you met him yet? Is he here?" I quipped in shameless excitement. It was Harry Styles after all, I couldn’t put a facade on forever.

Eve gave me a sly smirk, "He's incredibly handsome in person."

"No fucking way."

She put her hands up in defense, trying to reprimand herself and act more professional, "You know, I caught a glimpse. He had arrived only minutes ago but I hadn't properly greeted him yet. I want you to be the first one to introduce yourself..." She trailed off. "Any ways, we want him to be settled and comfortable first and I think a splendid thing for you to do is to bring him a robe and some coffee."

I felt my stomach tie into knots at her request and she looked back at me worried. "Well, just act casual," She suggested after I didn't reply automatically, almost as if she was reassuring herself as well. "There's a reason I picked you, you know."

"And what might that be?"

Eve grinned, "I think you and Harry would get on just fine."

———

I wasn't all to worried about how I would appear in front of Harry Styles. My fringe was a little all over the place because I didn't blow-dry it this morning and my blouse wasn't as ironed as it probably should be, but none of that mattered. I had decided to wait on signing the NDA until after I had met him and introduced myself. I wanted to make sure this job was the right fit for me.

I had his monogrammed fluffy grey robe tied up in a neat bow, sitting in the wicker basket attached to the front of my handy blue bicycle. To my dismay Harry's cottage was the farthest away and at the highest point on the premise, on top of the hill. So, it was a bit of a hike to say the least — I hoped that if I committed to the job that Eve would place me in a small cottage nearby to his so I wouldn't have to make this journey multiple times a day.

As I began the ride up the hill, I let my senses overtake me as I breathed in, listened and looked at the land that passed by me. Soho Farmhouse was one of the most beloved additions to The Soho company, an exclusive member only club made for the young creatives. To get accepted you had to pay a hefty application fee, be recommended by 2 existing members and do many interviews, but I reckon it's all worth it just for the Soho Farmhouse. I know I'd apply if I hadn't started working here. Forget the prestige Soho House's in New York and LA, this was the most beautiful of them all. There was something about the serene English countryside that blew all the others out of the water. The vibe was different, this was more of a retreat addition to the company, rather than the ones in big cities. When you went to those ones you expected overrated models and daddy funded 20 year olds. The Farmhouse was far from any of that.

The thing I liked most about the membership is that it isn't solely based on social or money status, although it may seem that way, but rather a safe haven for young individuals in creative industries. I had only been here for a month but have encountered endless amounts of interesting people, my own age which was a plus. Soho Farmhouse was the epitome of the ultimate British getaway, placed in the Cotswolds, composed of thousands of acred lands occupied by gardens and farm animals. The cottages, only 50, were each 50 yards distance from one another and faced views of slow running rivers giving you complete privacy. It truly is a scene out of a Jane Austen novel when you are here.

As I neared to the Farm Cottage on the very top of the hill, one of the biggest on the premise, I saw that there were 2 cars parked in the driveway. I became more nervous than ever, not so much because I had to meet him, but his management seemed even more intimidating. They were the ones who put that whole 15 page NDA together after all, and it came off pretty harsh. As I parked my bike amongst the two vehicles in the driveway, I kicked the stand up and grabbed the robe from the basket.

So this was it. I approached the front porch, the familiar creaky wooden steps of the cottages that felt so cozy were now being overtaken by fall leaves starting to pile up. Freshly cooled milk jugs were popped beside the giant wooden door — a small touch that we liked to do for all of our guests each morning. Using my foot I knocked on the door, my hands full from the oversized robe after all.

Almost as quickly as I had knocked, the door came rushing open and I was greeted with, well, not Harry Styles.

"Hey, I'm Jeff." He stuck his hand out, only to quickly realize my hands were full. "Uh, let me just take this for you."

"I'm Colette," I smiled back, handing him the robe that was keeping me quite warm being held to my chest.

"Come on in actually. I think you're going to be H's assistant throughout his stay here, if I'm correct?" I nodded back, quickly recognizing his American accent, like mine.

I allowed myself in. I started following Jeff to the front living area of the cottage and took a seat on the plush ivory couch. There was already an abundance of hefty suitcases and guitars scattered amongst the living room. The sound of a shower coming from the upstairs bathroom was where I assumed Harry may be.

"So, you'll be here checking up on Harry and all that?" He questioned, tucking his phone away and facing towards me.

"I believe so, I've never done anything quite like it before. Pretty nervous since it’s Harry Styles and all that. And you are?" I asked assuming he may be a close friend or a part of the band.

"His manager actually. And friend."

Oh. So he's the one who came up with all those rules and regulations? Maybe I should have been more enthusiastic answering his question.

"Oh, wow. That's great, sorry, I just..."I began awkwardly.

Jeff cut me short with a warm laugh, "Don't worry. We're like the same age, H and I. It's a great relationship we have but I make sure to keep him in line too and do what's best for him. Harry's a great guy, I promise he won't be overworking you at all."

"Well, I am very much looking forward to it. This opportunity is going to save me from being a waitress down at the Barwell Barn, now that is what I call being overworked," I joked nervously.

"You know actually, H is in the bathroom now. He's kind of had a tough day. I'll take the robe if you don't mind and then if you give me your cell I will text you with a later time today to stop by and introduce yourself," Jeff suggested kindly.

I nodded back at him, "Of course, I totally understand. It's been great meeting you, will you be staying here throughout the months?" I hated to prolong my stay, but I was curious.

"Only this week and then I'm back to LA, I've got my girlfriend back home and work waiting for me there. I'll probably stop by once a month though and check up on him."

"I miss California weather, I'm from there, actually. Just graduated university and I am visiting my nan here for a couple of months. That's actually what led me to this place," I spoke, becoming more and more comfortable with Jeff by the minute.

Jeff lifted his eyebrows, "I was wondering what may have lead you here. I was taken back by your accent...being not an English one and all that."

"Yep, this is a temporary thing for me, being here."

I didn't want to get too deep into a conversation or overstay my welcome so I stood up from the couch and offered my phone number as we approached the front of the cottage. Just as we reached the door, I heard the bathroom door creak open behind me. I wanted so bad to take a look and peak, but I knew this wasn't the right time.

“You know what," Jeff smiled, removing his hand from the doorknob abruptly, "Let's have a quick introduction now. Take a seat in the kitchen if you'd like, I'm going to make sure Harry's decent for you."

I guess I couldn't refuse to his request, "Sure thing," I grinned back, plopping myself onto one of the wooden barstools in the kitchen. Jeff hurried upstairs, I'm assuming following after Harry who had rushed up the stairs only seconds previous. I heard murmuring and then a door shut, leaving me alone on the first floor. Just me and my thoughts.

I didn't feel nervous at the thought of meeting Harry earlier, but Jeff stating he had a rough day and to come back later and now insisting I meet him, made me a bit weary of the whole ordeal. I didn't want to say the wrong thing or act the wrong way. All this time I was so caught up on what if I didn't get on well with Harry and didn't want the job, when in reality Harry could feel the same about me. I now felt an added amount of pressure I hadn't felt earlier.

Waiting around in the kitchen I couldn't help but notice every single candle was lit in the room. There was a surplus, way more than the standard amount that was placed throughout the cottages. There must have been a request for extra candles because the smell of tobacco vanilla had never been so overpowering then right now.

My thoughts broke for a moment, interrupted by a thunderous laugh coming from upstairs. The walls were thin in the cottages, floors too, so the echo of the laugh was booming. I felt a sense of relief to think that perhaps Jeff put him in a better mood, he did state they were good friends and all, and I knew that laugh didn't belong to Jeff. A quick stomping on the ground above me and a few claps, accompanied by more laughter echoed through the space. Whew, a rush of relief to know that maybe his tough day was over.

I looked down at my blue jeans, which I was now becoming self conscious of. Had I known when I arrived at 7 am this morning what circumstances I would endure, I would have dressed maybe a bit more presentable. And maybe I actually didn't like that I had rushed and not blow dried my hair. This is what I get for always sleeping in till 15 minutes before my shift and having no time to get ready.

I had no time to rethink and self criticize because I was overcome by the sound of heavy footsteps stomping down the stairs. My heart was racing, mouth a little dry, because I only heard one pair of footsteps. Fuck, I really hoped it be Jeff.

"Where are ya hiding, love?" A thick British accent hollered. "Ah, there ya are."

I turned to look at him, putting all my focus on the tall, tattooed man making his way over. I instantly felt something in my gut burn, in the good way, but not the good sexual way. A different type of good. Maybe I'm crazy, maybe everybody feels this way when they see Harry Styles, he is gorgeous after all, and it's so weird to see someone in real life you've only ever seen in pictures. I knew I'd be crazy to insinuate anything but the way he looked at me — almost like he was taken aback or expecting something or someone else. I assumed myself crazy to think he'd even give me a second look, I was just here to supply him with more candles and drop off food. I stood up quick, walking closer and meeting him halfway.

"I'm Colette, very nice to meet you," I brought out my hand to meet his.

"Pleasure. I'm Harry."

He was wearing plain jane grey sweatpants and a cotton white tee shirt, hair sopping wet, looking marvelous. It was casual and a very toned down look, night and day from the outfits you see him in on all the tabloids. No bright colors or funky patterns, no Gucci emblems, just simple, cozy attire. He looked so human. I think sometimes it’s easy to believe celebrities are so much larger than life, but he was just a person after all.

"Now," He began, putting his thumb to his chin and looking off, " 'M gonna need ya to fetch me twenty silk infused towels, the finest coffee grounds ya got and uh..."

He began laughing...at his own joke, not able to even finish his sentence. I too laughed with him, nervously though. It probably was funny in normal circumstances, but I could barely even process anything right now.

"Look, don't be so worried. Jeff's up there doing all kinds of things, he wanted me to come say hello. You seem lovely and I promise to be low maintenance. This wasn't even my idea, if I'm being honest..." Harry began to ramble.

"Buuuuuut," He added with a huge grin, "Looking forward to having ya on the team, Colette. Would you like to sit down for some tea, coffee?"

"Shouldn't I be making some tea or coffee for you?" I insisted with a small smile.

"Please," He scoffed, already heading towards the kettle. "Take a seat. Your cheeks look red, it's bloody cold outside, plus, I hear you're from California, so you're probably freezing."

"You're right on that one."

"What brought you here?" He questioned, genuinely seeming interested. He had his back turned to me as he rummaged around with the kettle.

"If I'm honest," I started embarrassingly, "I just didn't want to fully 'adult' yet. I graduated college and just wanted to get out and explore a little before committing to the adult lifestyle. My grandma lives just 10 minutes from here, so..."

"Smart choice. You're lucky to have that luxury of choosing to not commit to 'adulting' right away," He chuckled, turning to me to put adulting in quotation marks. I couldn't help but stare at him, he was not sore on the eyes at all. He was so kind, welcoming, a true gentleman. He had even welcomed me on 'the team' which was a promising sign, I wanted now more than ever to just sign my name and rights away on that stupid NDA. Whoever made that document up, must've been somebody higher up who didn't understand what having human connection is all about.

"Listen," Harry started, grabbing the two steaming cups and taking a seat across mine at the kitchen table. "I'm glad you're here. Promise to make your time here enjoyable as possible."

"The same for you," I replied quickly. "Obviously, that's what I'm here for."

He let out a small grin, glancing down at his cuppa. "I know ya had to sign one of those fancy documents."

"Haven't yet," I joked back. I already felt a lighthearted and friendly vibe from Harry, as if talking to an old friend I hadn't seen in months.

Harry quirked his eyebrow up with a smirk, "Why's that?"

"Wanted to make sure we'd get on or whatever. Couldn't work for a complete dick — excuse my language."

"I guess that's up to your own interpretation. But I have a feeling you'll be sticking around."

“Are you that sure of yourself?”

“Oh yeah,” He grinned proudly

We both laughed and then silence. An awkward beat passed by, I was looking down at the creases in the wooden table but I could feel his gaze burning. When I looked back up, he was fiddling with the rings on his fingers, shuffling them up and done. Might I add he had a ring for every single finger, minus two. Some were filled with bright gem stones, two of which were compromised of his initials H and S.

"Well, back to business," He awkwardly coughed. "What I was saying is that, I know in that document it said we can't exchange personal numbers. But I really can't be bothered to go thru Jeff to text you what I need 24/7. Soooo...can I trust you with my precious mobile number?"

He was obviously joking because a huge smirk was plastered on his face, his teasing face met mine. It was clear from these few minutes of knowing him, that he couldn't care to take everything too seriously.

"If you could ever so grant me with your sacred number, I'd be honored. Just give me a ring whenever you need me to draw a warm bath for you Mr. Styles."

"Hmph," He tugged at his lip with a smile. "Sounds good, now please, don't blow me up tooooooooo much."

“You afraid I might get all clingy?”

He rolled his eyes playfully, as if he’s dealt with something like that before. The two of us then exchanged contacts, casually sipping on our tea which he made fabulously, might I add. Jeff soon came back down to join us and the three of us talked amongst one another for 10 minutes or so before Harry's phone started buzzing.

"Ah fuck," He mumbled, Jeff peered over Harry’s shoulder to grab a glance at his phone and his face fell as well. The two of them stared for a second at whatever may have been on the screen, I could only imagine what it may have been. I'd never dare to ask.

"Right well, I've got some uh, stuff to take care of," Harry sighed, meeting my gaze. He looked obviously uncomfortable, almost sad. I smiled a bit too hard back at him, trying to lighten the mood since it seemed to go down quite drastically. I realized not even a second later the smile wasn't necessary because he didn't really reciprocate it. Now I just felt like a pansy.

"Let me uh, drive ya back to the front. It's cold and that's a long haul on a bike, I'd feel like a dick to let ya bike down there with these winds," Harry insisted, beginning to stand up. I couldn't let him do that though, I knew his mood was back down in the tank for whatever reason. I didn't want to have him drive me all the way back down to the front and inconvenience him, after all I was supposed to be tending to him, not the other way around.

"Thanks, but no thanks. I actually have to return the bike to a guest," I lied looking down at my phone. "Like right now, actually. Right now."

I was completely lying but I knew he couldn't refuse that and I didn’t want to have him pry anymore. I quickly rushed to the front door, Harry and Jeff following behind my footsteps.

"So very nice to meet you both once again, just give me a ring if anything is needed. I'm on call," I cheered awkwardly, pointing at my cellphone.

"Bye Colette, great meeting you," Jeff spoke up as I opened the door.

"A pleasure!" Harry called after me, as I rushed my way down the front steps of the deck. I scurried out so fast, you'd had thought I seen a ghost. Just like that, I was back on the handy blue bicycle again, wind rushing in my face, ready to sign those papers and officially take the job.

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

It was close to 9PM as I was just finishing up setting up my temporary home on the premises in order to take on my new position. It was small, like the smallest cottage on the whole grounds. I didn't complain though, I was on a meal plan and had infinite variations of body washes to try out, so I was pretty content with my situation. Unlike I had requested, I was quite a distance away from Harry's cottage on the hill, so I'd have to continue those tedious bike rides back and forth very frequently.

I hadn't heard from Jeff or Harry ever since I had departed them this morning. Eve assured me that they were just settling in and that I should do the same. Eve had drove me over to my nan's house where I announced the good news to her, I think she was just thrilled to have her house back to herself for a little. I did happen to have a habit of never putting my dirty dishes in the dishwasher, and I didn't get on quite well with her two cats. So, I packed up an abundance of clothing and some essentials that I figured would be needed, I didn't overdo it though, I was only a couple miles down the road if I needed more.

I had taken a steaming bath, with all the windows open, my view was the running river in the back. Lit up lantern adorned the back garden and it felt like the epitome of autumn, my favorite season. I wasn't a huge fan of the tobacco vanilla candles, so I opted for the fall fragranced ones. I texted a few friends back home, letting them know to call me back whenever they had a chance, I was eager to let them know of my new position. Then I had a reality check where I realized I probably signed all those rights away in that NDA I never fully looked over.

So it was just me drowning in my thoughts, in a super oversized tin bath tub. I was more focusing on if I'd be busy at all tomorrow or if I just had all the time to myself in my new little home, and if so, what would I do? Should I start to Amazon prime myself some books or start a new series on Hulu? It was exciting, I was literally getting paid around the clock to just sort of wait for a request from Harry. I don't think I could have ever dreamt of a more better way to spend my months here in the English countryside.

Unfortunately, things were going too good too soon. I should've known that when Eve insisted she pay me around the clock that there was a reason. The slight vibration coming from my phone broke me out of my thoughts.

Jeff: Hey Colette. I know it's starting to get late, but we have a few friends at Harry's cottage here and it'd be awesome if you can bring the bar cart on over. Within the hour would be best. Thanks!

Fucking hell, not the bar cart. I had just gotten into my cozy PJs and was about to lay down to get an early's night rest —I guess that will not be an option tonight. The bar cart was one of the biggest pains in the ass, right alongside the breakfast cart. These carts where actually bright blue vintage-like vehicles, that are specially requested to the cottages. You drive them up, park them and hang out in the back of the cart and cater to whatever the guest of the cottage wants. They get hammered, you watch — exciting. For a full hour usually, and even more if they have the money to keep it past just one hour. I had never had the pleasure of taking on this role, but from what I heard, it was the worst of them all. I wasn't even trained for this, I could barely make a decent vodka soda, and now I have to go on up there and make a bunch of fancy drinks.

I started dialing Eve's number as I approached the bathroom to make myself somewhat presentable.

"Colette, what's up?" She spoke lazily on the other line.

"Jeff said Harry is requesting the bar cart to be brought up, isn't it too late?" I asked with a hint of annoyance.

"Oh, no. Not for Harry Styles darling.. I'll call up someone to drive it up, can you just be there when it arrives so you can cater and make the drinks?"

I rolled my eyes, there was no way of getting out of this and I suppose I was getting paid for a reason. "All right, I'll be there."

"Don't seem so down, people will kill for this opportunity," Eve quipped. "Now I got to tend to my children, shoot me a text if you need anything."

As soon as the call ended I began to freshen up and look somewhat presentable. Eve had requested someone to bring up the bar cart, and I'm sure she explained it was an ASAP type of request and I'd probably have to bike over as soon as possible.

I threw on a pair of jeans with a slouchy white tee shirt and a parka. I walked out and it was fucking crispy out, like I could totally see my breath when I breathed out. I wasn't so used to this weather in Southern California and I didn't know it would get so cold so soon here, it was September for fucks sake.

Hopping on the bike I began my journey up to the top of the hill. Despite the sky being so dark, the premise was brightly lit with a bunch of light posts. Opened cottage windows shined brightly onto the cobblestone, guiding me through. It almost felt like this place was a safe, utopian village where time stopped. It was everything you imagined when you thought of the English countryside and I was becoming more in love with it each day.

I could hear laughter and cheers become more apparent as I began to reach Harry's cottage. Of course, the lovely blue bar cart was already parked in the road approaching the driveway. Eve really wasted no time at all when it came to catering to Harry Styles, I had never seen her so on top of things before.

"Hiya Colette," Michael, one of the porters who worked here waved at me as I went to approach the cart.

"I'm assuming you are the one who brought this on up here, are you staying?" I asked, hopping off my bike and planting it along the side of the vehicle.

Michael had a tight lipped smile splashed on his face, "Unfortunately, I am needed elsewhere tonight. Aaaaaandd... I kinda don't have a way back down to the main area so I'm going to need that bike of yours."

"Uh-uh, no way am I going to be held responsible for driving the cart back down after all this," I spoke back, pointing at the brightly lit up cottage in front of us.

"Just ring the front desk later, get somebody to ride up on a golf cart. We'll leave the bar cart here till morning, don't worry."

I gave him a harsh glare but allowed him to take my precious bicycle. "Good luck," He laughed as he started pedaling down the hill.

"Yeah, yeah," I mumbled to myself as I opened the back door of the cart, stepping up into the platformed area where a slew of alcohol bottles and mixers awaited me. Lucky for me there was a handy dandy drink recipe book laying around. I figured it would give me a rough outline for all these fancy drinks these fancy people would be ordering.

I grabbed my phone from my back pocket to shoot a text to Jeff announcing my arrival and that I was ready and waiting.

Colette Adkins: Hey Jeff. I'm here, pretty quickly too. Whenever people are ready they can come on out! :)

I hit 'send' and then took a quick look around to see what I was dealing with. A small opening with a wooden table was attached to the side, so I could hand over the drinks and they could order. Theoretically, this was a cute and great idea. Realistically, it was a total pain — not to mention very breezy. There was no sort of heating going on and I was so thankful I had chosen my giant parka in this moment.

The bottles to the right of me were adorned beautifully amongst one another, only the best of the best I presumed. I wasn't a huge drinker, I preferred a glass of Trader Joe's wine or an occasional white claw — mango flavored, of course. Did they even sell those here? Hmm, had to look that up when I got back to my room.

"Oi, oi!" A deep voice shouted out, happily walking down the driveway to my cart, arm wrapped around a beautiful blonde. Oh, so he has a girlfriend too? Harry strutted out from the house looking majestic, hair blowing in the wind with a big award winning grin. Jeff and another man with long hair tied up in a ponytail were following closely behind laughing and taking sips out of their crystal glasses.

I couldn't help but think that Harry looked extremely overjoyed, a huge difference from how I had left him earlier today. He wore a bright blue sweater with a baby chick on it and creme flowing pants — it definitely made a statement. And by the way he swayed when he walked, he was probably a little drunk, if not more.

As he approached me, his arm unravelled from the girl beside him and instead he plopped his elbows up on the wooden attached table and let his face fall into his tattooed hands. I couldn't help but notice a fresh coat of baby blue paint on his nails, sloppily done — I'm assuming done by him.

"So..." He trailed off with a beaming smile. "What are ya whipping up tonight Miss. Colette?"

I chuckled back at him nervously, 'not shit' I thought to myself. Maybe he'd be too drunk to notice how terrible my bartending skills will be.

"Oh and this, this lady right here is my lovely 'real world' assistant, Jamie. She's great," Harry added eagerly, gesturing towards the stunning blonde and bringing her back close to his side.

"Lovely to meet you both," I chirped. Jamie shot a smile back at me and reached out her perfectly manicured hand to me.

"Pleasure," She drawled with a thick London accent.

"We've been drinking a lot already but I think 'm down for some shots, yeah?" Harry called out to his small entourage surrounding the bar cart. Everybody laughed and I managed to throw a little wave to Jeff. I was relieved that it was only the four of them, I could only hope nobody else would show up. The smaller the crowd, the better.

"Well," I started, "I'm actually not a bartender and I have no idea what I'm really doing. A shot would probably be your best option, I can definitely fix that up for you."

"Pour it up then!" Harry exclaimed. "You got some tequila in there?"

I took a quick look to my side at the selection of alcohol, we had tons of varieties of almost everything. I mean it was quite an impressive collection for a little bar cart.

'Let me uh, actually, do you mind if I hop up in there with you?" Harry asked inquisitively, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. His eyes were glossed over with pleading eyes, lips pouty pink and his hair disheveled. I knew I shouldn't let him, Eve would have a fit if she knew he was coming up to try and make his own drink. Eve would also have a fit if I said 'no' to Harry Styles, though.

I didn't have much time to answer because Harry was already hopping up the steps and trying to make space for himself in the small little enclave inside the wagon. I couldn't help but get a whiff on his divine cologne, it smelled so musky and cozy — manly, but not too much. I looked down and Jeff, the pony-tailed man and Jamie were having their own sorts of conversation amongst themselves paying no attention to Harry and I, they were probably used to his drunken behaviors.

"So, what we do we have here, hmm?" Harry glanced over at the alcohol options. "You reckon you can make me one of those Rusty Nail drinks they make over at the Soho House in New York?" He put on a serious face, looking at me inquisitively before letting out a small laugh.

"I don't have an actual clue on that one," I laughed, knowing he was most likely not being serious. "Didn't even know a drink could be referred to as a Rusty Nail?"

"Indeed there is a drink called the Rusty Nail."

"Sounds terrible."

"I beg to differ, buuut, a tequila shot will have to subside. Casamigos?" Harry questioned, picking up the clear bottle and raising his shoulders at me suggestively. Oh, oh...so he wanted me to take a shot with him? That was a big no.

"You want me to take a shot with you?"

"Why fuckin' not? It's a celebratory night and it wouldn't be fair for you to stay sober whilst we're all getting hammered, eh?"

He was very considerate, friendly, too friendly. Like definitely doesn't know the fine line between business and friendship and I was strictly on the business side.

"I guess I'm a little cold, maybe a shot would warm me up..." I bargained, looking at the bottle and back to Harry's face, it was hard to say no to a grown man with a baby chick sweater.

"Aha!" He exclaimed, "Now everybody, come take a shot with the lovely Colette and I!"

I gave a look to Jeff worriedly, feeling as if he was going to reprimand me for agreeing to do this, but instead he waved his hand shaking the whole thing off with a laugh. Harry grabbed the very, very expensive shot glasses all in one hand impressively, I closed my eyes afraid he might drop one. With a hard ding he somewhat arranged them in an even line, sloppily filling them all up to the brim.

"Tonight," He began happily. "We celebrate a new era...new songwriting, new ideas...a much needed break." Everybody nodded their heads silently in agreement. "Mitch, my best and most talented pal, happy to have ya here with me. Jeff, can't believe you're leaving me for Glenne in LA, I hope she says, 'yes.'" Jeff raised his shot glass up laughing. I too held one in my hand, was there such a thing as a dramatic toast followed by a tequila shot? I suppose, in the lavish world of Harry Styles and company there was.

"Jamie, you're bloody great but get back home to that husband and child of yours in London. Enjoy some well deserved time off. And..." Harry turned to face me, "Colette, I already know you are a great addition to the team. Looking forward to seeing you show up at my door with an abundance of those fresh candles every week...cheers!"

The four of us raised our shot glasses and downed them quickly, the burn of the liquor tingling my tongue and throat. Holy shit, I had not had a tequila shot in so long I forgot just how gross they were. I let a little cough out as the tequila sank in, the warmth itching my throat.

Harry turned to me looking down, "What do ya say we sneak a couple bottles and just head into the cottage? Its cold out here."

"Not sure if that's allowed..." I started.

"Fuck it. Come on, grab your favorite one," He insisted, pointing to the bottles. "Let me guess you probably like them white claws or whatever."

"How'd you know?" I deadpanned pursing my lips.

"You Americans really have a huge thing for those, they're shit by the way," Harry teased.

"No they're not! They're delicious...especially the mango ones or, hey, have you tried the watermelon ones?"

Good one Colette, smooth, nice, funny, never been done before. I wanted to face palm myself in that moment. Harry snorted at my little joke though, so it couldn't have been that bad.

"Very funny you. Okay so, vodka?" He questioned, wrapping a few bottles in his arm. "Don't even answer that because it's what you're getting," He added jokingly. I didn't even have the heart to tell him I hated straight vodka because it was quite endearing the way he was trying so hard to be all inclusive. With the bottles in his arms, he teetered out of the bar cart, me following behind.

"Oh, Colette, come here!" Jeff insisted, waving at me. I walked up to him as he embraced me for a quick hug, I could tell he too was plastered. "This is Mitch. He's Harry's guitarist, super cool, one of us."

I switched my gaze to Mitch, the mysterious ponytail man. "Nice to meet you," He said shyly.

"You as well!" I said back cheerfully. I had barely eaten a thing today and just that one shot had created a small amount of excitement in me that wasn't there when I had first arrived.

"He'll be staying here with Harry, so I'm sure you'll be getting to know him some more. What do you think of Harry so far though?" Jeff asked inquisitively. We were all making our way up the driveway, Harry and Jamie were already inside.

"I mean, wow, he's great. Didn't really expect him to be so welcome and inclusive, if I'm honest. Can't help but think I'm overstepping my boundaries a little," I replied worriedly.

Jeff brushed it off casually, it was just now me and him on the front deck, everyone else was already inside. "That's just how Harry he is, he is just nice like that. I hate to try to be serious and all right now but, Harry's going through a bit of a tough time. This is his getaway for him, you know? He feels uncomfortable with the fact that you're here at his beck and call these upcoming months...so he is trying to make you see that you're now a part of his circle."

"Oh, wow." I didn't really know what to say. I'm assuming Jeff is probably that super emotional drunk, who just talks and talks trying to make a lesson out of everything.

"H is a great judge of character, though. He see's something in you, you left an impression on him earlier. He felt terrible kicking you —"

"Oi!" Harry hollered, abruptly opening the door and almost knocking my head. "Mate, I hate to cut you short but we're doing another round. Get the fuck in you two!"

Jeff sent me a 'told you so' look and we both happily pranced inside behind Harry, ready for whatever was to happen inside those

PART 2: THE BAR CART

#dog years #dogyearsmasterlist #Harry Styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles ff #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #1dff #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #harry styles series #harry styles x reader #harry styles x ofc #one direction fanfiction

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kikyoinuyashashipper · 3 years

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Anime, is anime. Nothing is gonna be or look as it should. Whether it's a specific anime or anything else, but also this is facts 😂 I wonder what I'd look like if I was a anime character 🤔?

One of The awesome,funny and honestly interesting thing about it.

Things are not always as they seem, they could look one way but be absolutely the opposite and visaversa, not only is this kinda realistic in a wayis, let me exonerate, people are all different whether it be skin color sizes,hair color, personalities and whatnot, there are also those in real life that look older than they actually are, and the same can be said for the opposite, there are people that look younger than they actually are, and as of recently I've noticed the Loli controversy is starting up again, I personally don't really care for loli's that much like I have a crush on one like honey senpai is shouta(male older than he looks because he has child like features opposite of Loli ) I'll just turn myself into a Loli to be with him no big deal, don't get me wrong the Loli and shouta are adorable and really cool at times, but for me when I simp over a character I'm kinda into those like ban 7deadly sins(got them abs😆) but if you show me a image of them "aged up" or more defined and with more mature looking features (abs) that's what I'm into you show me an adorable anime guy like mitsukuni Haninozuka imma be pinching cheeks and snuggles, and eating cake, and stealing a kiss or 2 that's, now I've seen mitsukuni with more mature features/having puberty/growth spurt hitting him hard and I simp, and this is me with preference I guess you can say, I like anime abs, I don't mind a guy that's cute and chubby tho because I can just imagine them with abs and I simp, and without abs I'm also a person who admires a great personality not just the body, like Viktor from Yuri on ice I haven't seen it yet but I at least know his name but he's adorable chubby and smoking when he loses the weight 🤤🔥❤️.

And no matter what age they originally are, I'm not going to be thinking about that, I'll be thinking of me and that character I like regardless, if the character is younger ,then I'm younger and we will hold hands, and get ice cream, puppy love, if we are older still holding hands, and getting ice cream and throw in the romantic aspect, such as dates marriage, having intercourse, having kids,a future, growing old together,then dying and going to heaven together yeah I can imagine that as well, I can change them older or younger or myself older or younger because it is fiction and a fantasy and there is no reality, it can be whatever I want in the fantasy if I imagine a age difference since imma girl and their the boy if I'm older I automatically think of omgoodness he's in love with his senpai, or his best friends mom, or his babysitter, or with the older single lady who helped him once when he was little who he spent time with over time having fun, like going to the park talking about videogames,or other normal everyday stuff, who he grew a crush on over time and feels it turned into something more when he got older, her thinking of him as a child until he matured/legal age out of school already and he made moves on her showing he wanted to be anything but a child with her,her not accepting his feelings,yet over time he grows on her and her feelings change and decides to give him a chance, then they get married and live happily ever after, same thing if it's the opposite way. How a character looks despite age depends on the creator as in most cases age isn't important for the moral or for the telling of the story. Now for definitions, Loli has 2 definitions and both go for this word. Loli is a female child, that's one definition now here's the 2nd definition as well Loli also means a adult or person of legal age who has the attributes, features, or characteristics of a child while being anything but that.

Shouta is the opposite of Loli its a male child/ a adult who has the attributes/features/characteristics of a child but is anything but that.

In real life I have been mistaken as a child/minor I've been told I looked 12 or 16 very rarely ever got an answer above those ages highest I got was 20 something. When I got called 12 I was a 17 (turning 18 after graduation) senior in highschool, even the freshman thought I was one of them. Now I'm 19 gonna be 20 soon and am out of school and was called a 16 yr old by a 17 year old girl still in highschool.

I guess I could be defined as a Loli when I'm anything but a child.

Yet I'm also well endowed on my upper half of my body and have back pain because of it, in other words I got a pair of tits, and was called a hentai girl, by other people who liked manga and anime as well, even though I was called a child by others. So I have in body mature features (defined by a person or two as a hentai body),by my face I'm a Loli and look like a child(also defined by a person or two as younger than I am) when I'm a adult. So I'mma Loli hentai girl in the real world? No idea, but wait I can't define myself by fictional standards? correct. so imma human being who looks younger than they are.

Imma tag everyone I can.

This can actually go for all aspects of animation not just anime, Princess's are from 14+ snow white was 14 fun fact there, wouldn't really be able to tell. Age difference is in everything, and I still enjoy snow white it's actually one of my favorite Disney films before and after I even knew this information, and I honestly have no problem with it, mostly because for that time it's considered normal, and I was a kid and just saw a princess movie, I didn't think that their ages were relevant to the story/stories. Besides sleeping beauties 16 got spindle pricked on a spinning wheel and fell into a deep sleep, Wich was going to be death but was changed. In the original sleeping beauty, she was put to sleep for 100years as was her kingdom, the kingdom was covered in brambles/thorns (rose thorns to be specific but they didn't bloom because they were enchanted and used for defense to make sure the spell couldn't be broken), and each time someone thought to go near, or try to save the kingdom to free it's people the ground would break open underneath them swallowing them up, right where the brambles/thorns started at the end of the kingdom, so even if they managed to get past the area where the earth broke the enchanted thorns (rose thorns) would rip them to shreds, with their blood and bodies fertilizing the ground and the thorns would grow. This happened for many years until everyone forgot about it, then finally 100 years had passed and the roses finally bloomed, a prince was coming through and had heard of the kingdom and of the many who lost their lives trying to enter and was going to explore and see if he can find a way in, to see the beauty that was rumoured to live there. When he arrives the Thorn's were in bloom and the ground didn't break but allowed him to pass, the thorns actually even made way for him to go through. When he got into the kingdom he saw everything and everyone fast asleep noone had aged a day, then he explored and discovered the princess and this is where it gets kinda dark compared to Disney's version. So rape trigger warning don't read unless you want and can handle it.

..................................................................................

The prince saw the beauty and instead of doing true loves kiss to break the spell, he raped her multiple times and then he left and never returned. Beauty then became pregnant while still asleep, she had twins, and as they wriggled around searching to breastfeed one of them caught onto her finger with the spindle splinter in her finger, it sucked on her finger and managed to get the splinter out, Wich then awoke the princess and the rest of the kingdom, who was a very confused princess, and now a new mother with no idea who "prince charming" was. And that's actually the original telling of sleeping beauty, there are other versions that are less dark,but this is the original as far as I know and the oldest I could find that was in English.

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12loona-archived · 4 years

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[FANCAFE] 200819 - Happy 2 Years with LOONA From Heejin: “Orbits! It’s Heejin. ❤ We, Loona, have already reached our second debut anniversary! Time passes so quickly.. I also think, what did I even do for time to have passed this fast? ㅋㅋ Whenever this time of year comes around I feel relief like, “Ah, we’ve arrived safely this year again”, and when I think of Orbits who have stuck with us until now, I’m so grateful. After all, we can celebrate our anniversary together each year because we’ve all been running together and not by ourselves, right? These days I often feel gratitude for each of these little moments. And you’re even more precious because there are always expressions that I can’t say fully in words… My ever so beloved Orbits! Thank you so much for celebrating Loona’s second anniversary with us!! I love you. ❤”

From Hyunjin: “To Orbits: Hi~! Orbits, it’s Hyunjin. >_From Yeojin: “Orbits~!! Hi, it’s me, Yeojin!! Everyone’s doing well, right? The weather’s gotten really hot lately so I’m worried about Orbits a lot, and because I’m worried I miss you even more. ㅜ The reason I’m writing this letter is! Because we, Loona, have reached our second debut anniversary!! Through these two years we’ve had lots of tough times, and lots of happy times and emotional times too, and I think it’s such a big blessing that I could share each of those moments with Orbits! Thank you so much for always being with us, Loona. I’ll make sure to be a Yeojin who repays you even more!! Please keep taking good care of me, Orbits, I love you. ❤” From Vivi: “Happy, happy birthday to Loona. 🎂🎂🎂 Thank you for wishing us a happy second anniversary! I think I’ve received much love and lived happily thanks to Orbits being by my side for these two years. I’m so disappointed that I can’t see you much these days, but I hope everyone will be healthy and happy. The more time passes, the more more more our pretty members and Orbits feel precious to me. So through this letter, I’ll send love to the members and Orbits. ❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤ I’ll always miss you and love youu. 😚😚😚 See you soon. 🌙🌙🌙 💗 VivV. 💗” From Kim Lip: “It’s Loona’s second debut anniversary. :) We have lots of anniversaries and Orbits like that more, right? I like it too because we get lots of days to give Orbits news! Because ordinary days become special anniversaries for us. 🥰 One time recently I sank into my thoughts while watching the rain. While listening to the rains soounds I read a book, watched a movie, and took some time to think a bit more about myself. Orbits, how have you been spending time? Thinking time is good, but let’s not think deeply for too long of a time! I miss Orbits so much.. 🥺 We’ve put in lots of effort for two years but I think there are a lot of things we haven’t been able to show you yet. You want to see lots of diverse sides of me and Loona, right? Forget two years, let’s be together for 20 years, 200 years! Love you. ❤ Again, a heartfelt thank you to the many people who celebrated with us. ❤” From Jinsoul: “Hello, Orbits, it’s Jinsoul. 💙 You’re doing well, right? It’s already been two years’ time since Loona debuted! We’ve laughed a lot and cried a lot in that time, and those memories have built up, and I feel that that time has become even more valuable and precious thanks to Orbits being with us. I’m so thankful and I hope we’ll see each other for an even longer time to come. 💙 Looking forward to even better times! And my members! Honestly with each passing day, you feel even more precious to me. Fighting to us, so that we can climb steadily to the highest place! Love you. 💙” From Choerry: “Orbits!! Today is the second anniversary of Loona’s debut!! Kya-a-a. Thank you so much for cherishing and loving us for two years! 🎉🎊 When I think of Orbits when I’m tired and exhausted, I automatically get energized and I feel like I could fly around the practice room about 100 times! It’s raining a lot these days too, be careful not to catch a cold everyone. ㅠㅠ For me, lately I’ve been having more hobby time watching movies or dramas with the members in the dorm! If I get the chance later I’ll recommend you movies or dramas I’ve enjoyed~ Thank you so much for celebrating Loona’s secondary anniversary, and I say this all the time but let me say it again today! Orbits!! Always love you and miss you. 💜😘” From Yves: “Hello, Orbits! This is Yves. 🍎 It’s already been two years since we, Loona, have debuted. To be honest, I’m not one to place a huge meaning in numbers, but today feels a little different. From the moment we debuted as a full group — the joyfulness, sadness, happiness and regrets, and countless more emotions I can’t describe that were shared together with Orbits, have all one by one made me who I am now. To our Orbits ✨ who allow us to feel various emotions like this, and making me feel grateful for every moment, thank you so much. 😭 I love all Orbits, no matter where you are or what you look like. I will repay you with even better images in the future! Be together with me. ❤” From Chuu: “Orbit. ❤ I can’t beleive it’s already our second anniversary. Every performance, promotion, fanmeeting, broadcasts during this time have al seem to flash before me. I thought of this as a short time, but contrary to my thoughts I’ve shared many things with Orbits. 🌈 Although I don’t know how many things will unfold or what will come up in the road of Loona’s future, I want to look forward to the road Loona will walk on in future! And I want to decorate the road we walk on with Orbits. 😌 Of course, a future that’s just pretty would be nice too, but even if we’re a bit clumsy, or have trials and errors, or lots of hard times, I want to create a future that is enjoyable because we can always be together. ❤ Will you be with me and Loona in the future too? ☺ To me, Orbits are my pride and become my confidence. Thank you! Next time I will bring better words than thanks. 🙏🏻 Thank you.” From Go Won: “Hello, hello! This is Go Win. Orbits, what day is it?! It’s Loona’s second anniversary~~~ 🥳 It’s already been two years since the ponytail Go Won who yelled, “You can’t get tired!”. The time together with Orbits is so nice that just thinking about it makes me feel like time flies by. Orbits, out of all of the days we spent together, when was your favourite?! For me, even just calling Orbits’ name and laughing together makes me really happy. 🥰 I really, really miss you guys lots, our Orbits. ❤ I’m always thankful and I love you. ❤” From Olivia Hye: “Hello, Orbits! I’m Olivia Hye. With our members and Orbits! We were able to celebrate our second anniversary so I’m glad! I want to show performances as soon as possible, and I want to meet Orbits through fansign meetings. And our members, you have worked hard! While we’ve been together for these two years, which you could call a long or short amount of time, it’s nice that it feels like we’ve been able to understand each other best. Lately I’ve been thinking each and every one of you is preicious. I trust that we will have even better days in the future, and let’s work hard in the future like we do now. Our members, and our Orbits, I’m always thank for all of you!”

translated by loona’s subbits.

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junnie133 · 4 years

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part of your world

I was cleaning up some of my old works and damn, the other day I was regretting not writing anything for Mermay and surprise! I actually did. Never ended it though, but I want to remember it the next time so I will leave this here. You can recycle the idea or take it as inspiration, I don’t mind. I’d like some credit so, it’s up to you.

In which Wind is a merboy, Warriors is overprotective and Wild is a Good Friend ™. Or the Little Mermaid AU no one needs.

{+}{+}{+}

“My brother is an asshole!”

Wild was a good listener, and even if Wind often felt bad for throwing all his teenage emotional garbage on him, right now he was too mad to even check if his Hylian friend was really paying attention at his tantrum, or if he was just waiting for him to calm down while he prepared some food.

Wind was leaning into the pool’s edge, keeping himself floating over the water with practiced ease, his long green merman fin doing all the work almost automatically. That fact alone was more than enough to confirm that the little sea boy was used to interacting with surface habitants, something technically forbidden for his kind.

Not like Wind was known for following the rules honestly.

“We were just fucking talking! Hanging out on her ship and telling stories about our adventures!” he shouted “But nooooo, Mr. Captain of the Royal Guard can’t let his little brother to fucking stain his shitty perfect image” he huffed, and then bent down to screamed under the water, as Wild calmly watched how a rush of tiny bubbles came out around Wind’s head.

“Language” he quietly reminded him, not sure if he would be listened at all.

However, Wind got out of the water and glared at him “I seriously hope you didn’t just scold me about language because I’m not in the mood for this shit”

Wild rolled his eyes with an amused smirk on his lips, never stopping his work with the dish he was working on.

“Are you done now?” he asked.

“...yeah, I think I’m good now” he sighed “It’s just- He knows Tetra, she’s not a bad person, she’s my best friend! Why is it so bloody hard to understand that?” he let his head fall against the hard material of the pool, letting his body relax and float over the water by itself.

“Well,” Wild began “Pirates are very well known for catching mermaids and selling them to the highest bidder in the market” he tried whatever he had boiling on the fire with a wooden spoon, then he added a little bit more of salt “I think he’s just worried”

“Well, I can take care of myself very well, thank you” he scoffed “I’ve been friends with her since like, three years ago. If she wanted to sell me she would have done it already”

“Does your brother know that?”

“I mean, yes! Or… I… think” he grumbled “Ok, so I may never told him that I know her for that long, but he doesn’t have to know”

Wild laughed at his friend’s pout. Wind just turned fifteen last month, and he has known him since he was a little merboy of twelve years old. That was the first time he went to the surface, he only wanted to rescue his little sister and come back home, but Wild could tell Wind fell in love with his world the instant he got his head out of the water and saw the wide blue sky above.

Since then Wind will often come to visit him here at the Zora Domain, as he spent most of his time there honestly. The teen was always welcomed, even if all he did for the first two hours of their reunion was talk about how much Wind’s big brother treated him like he was still four.

“I’m not a kid anymore you know? He can trust me” he mumbled under his breath.

It was not the first time Wild became aware of his friend’s longing for the trust of his brother, and he really doubted it’ll be the last.

“I know what you mean…” he sighed.

And it wouldn’t be the last time he shared the same problem with him.

“Oh yeah” Wind perked up, suddenly in a good mood as he remembered something “How’s Twilight?”

“He’s good, I think he’s with Midna right now”

“You should thank her for keeping him busy”

Wild chuckled “I know. I’ll cook something for her later”

Before they met, Wild never thought he would bond with a merboy four years younger than him through having similar experiences with overprotective big brothers.

“I would get Warriors a girlfriend but the jerk prefers to make my life impossible than to get a girl” Wind huffed.

“That’s really sweet, being him” said Wild, serving the food in a bowl as he gave it to Wind “How is it?”

Wind grabbed the bowl and sipped from it as he tasted it carefully. However, he smiled almost instantly as he ate the rest eagerly.

“Awesome as ever!” he exclaimed “You should open a place to sell your food buddy!”

Wild chuckled and shook his head “I’ve been thinking about it, but I want to explore more first. See the world, you know?”

Wind stared up at the sky and sighed.

“Yeah, I think I know what you mean”

#linked universe #wild #wind #warriors #the legend of zelda #mermay in agust omg #i hate it here #this is why we can't have nice things #twlilight #overprotective big bros #i love them #tetra is eric #wind is ariel #can you fucking imagine time as a crab?#i can #it's beautiful #omg didn't check the grammar #well #:p

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ah-kasuna · 4 years

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Puppetry in a Nutshell // ♥ I ♥

Pairing: SasoDei

AU: Art School

THIS IS THE 1ST PART AND MY VERY 1ST TRANSLATION ;_; I ain’t native speaker, so there will be mistakes I think, so please let me know about them, so I could fix em! Tbh it feels like doin it with the blindfold on, so XD Yeah, forgive me anyway.

I hope you’ll like it!♥ Let me know what you think please! Love ya!

AND I DEDICATE IT TO @deidaraakasuna, U KNOW WHY♥♥♥

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Geidai.

The world-famous Fine Arts Academy, located in one of the most charming corners of Tokyo.

A place that growing artists dream about, perceiving it as a mystical land of inspiration and creativity (until they see sculpture students playing with their own Pony ponies).

The university to get to is a high-class feat, usually drenched in liters of alcohol and liters of tears in a later hangover. After all, who wouldn't get drunk on this occasion?

I smiled at the vague memories as I unpacked my breakfast and shook my head fondly. Basically, this sentimental feeling of being an old woman with a bunch of grandchildren has accompanied me since the beginning of my sophomore year, when I watched the freshmen roaming the corridors in sweet ignorance of their fate. Fortunately or not, this intoxicating state faded into non-existent at the end of the first semester as the session approached. And it just so happened that it was just approaching, breaking the will to fight along the way and magically depriving the students of creative inspiration, the one necessary - as you can easily guess - to pass half a year at a group of charming leaders.

My gloomy eyes followed the classroom. Outside the corridor window, visible through the open door, a bird chirped merrily. The weather was beautiful - a typical Japanese spring. The cherries were blooming, scattering fragrant white-pink petals around, and I was rotting at the epicenter of All Evil, like a condemned man aware of what was about to happen. And which happened cyclically twice a week, because my goddamn ambition pushed me to apply for this equally damned university. And so I redeemed my sins before I died, regretting abandoning the idea of self-improvement in the privacy of my modest (but equipped with a kettle and toaster!) Apartment. What more could you want?

I shoved a huge piece of bread in my mouth, which I chewed for five minutes before he graciously wanted to squeeze through my esophagus. A dry mouth like this meant only one thing: my brain finally picked up the information that puppetry classes were about to begin. For my despairing amusement, everyone was rushing to their seats, with shaking hands shoving paints, chisels, and the rest of the necessary utensils out of their bags, as if someone's life depended on the speed of their perfect arrangement on the table. I felt a sudden urge to laugh out loud.

If asked about the reason why the very thought of puppetry gave the vast majority of students sudden symptoms of delirium and depression, the answer would be simple, concise, and more eloquent than the potency pill ads: Hell Cerberus aka Sasori Akasuna. Officially - a lecturer in a terribly heavy and hated subject; in fact - the walking essence of the deepest pits of hell. What was it about him that wherever he went - everyone immediately cut off discussions and silly games? Well, the puppetry professor not only carefully nurtured the art of being laconic, cynical and ruthless. He was devilishly intelligent, even more talented and vindictive and possesive a tons of sophisticated sarcasm, which he liked to apply with the greatest pleasure to me.

The bell rang. Everyone but me jumped up immediately and Akasuna entered the classroom. As always: in a perfectly matched shirt, elegant pants, a perfectly knotted tie and an equally perfect boredom on the face.

I reluctantly swallowed the rest of my bun, limiting myself to lazily lifting my ass off the chair and making a painful expression. Anyway, I was a loser at the outset, so I saw no point in putting on a similar play as the others, which only maked him sastisfied more. I clenched my fists automatically. Not this time, man!

The professor walked slowly towards the cathedral by stairs, giving the impression of a man who scrupulously and deeply don't care for this worldly place and time. And perhaps I would even fall for his 'dun-give-a-shit' play, if I had not been marked by his hatred from the very first class. And yet, it's not like I did something to him, oh no. I was simply not susceptible to his mental puppet strings, so I stubbornly disagreed with him on the essence of the art. For him, the highest dimension of beauty were - horror of horrors - goofy make-uped puppets; for me, the art was much less crude carving in plastic materials, where every little movement could fix or spoil everything. And the wood? It was too patient, too tough, hard to work with, unresponsive to the tender touch of trained hands, and it had splinters ...

Everything happened according to the established order. Akasuna checked the attendance, gave an excruciatingly boring spiel about our laziness and talentlessness (noting that exams were coming up), and then had everyone make an individual puppet design. I groaned woefully like the rest of them, reluctantly reaching into my bag for a sketchbook and a set of pencils.

I loved nothing so much as wasting my time gouging dolls. To my left, a class idiot Tobi, wrapped in an orange and black scarf almost under his nose, looked at me as if I was a revelation of heavens.

"Don't even try," I said, feeling what was happening." We'll be kicked out both."

The guy made cat eyes, but said nothing more, and I went to work. I was drawing the lines in concentration, letting my mind wander along the definitely nice tracks, and in the end I turned off mind for good. And I would have been drawing in peace so I'd probably have finished this stupid task if that black-haired moron at the desk next to mine had not disturbed me with his grunts accompanying his neck stretching towards my work.

It was the end of my composure. I lifted my head from the project and cursed him to the next five generation, supporting my words with a discreet but well-hit kick. There was a muffled groan.

"Kawamoto, shall you explain me what are you doing?" I immediately heard the distinctive, bored tone of his voice and stiffened on my chair.

The professor was standing a few steps away from me, eyebrows raised and hands folded across his chest.

"Should I take you to the playground?"

"I'm trying to work, professor," I grunted, holding back the appropriate retort and wondering how the heck did he materialized at my desk.

"Good choice of words, indeed." The corner of his mouth curled up in a cynical smile. "Then be that kind and continue your trials in peace, unless you prefer to try at another university."

I felt my blood flooding. Tobi inhaled loudly, knowing what awaited him at the break, and Akasuna leisurely returned to the cathedral, occasionally glancing at me with hideous satisfaction.

I hated him. I hated him most sincerely and most earnestly, with particular emphasis on his physicality, which, despite the sadistic nature, made most of the female students' knees soften and their tongues tangled. Because exactly! He wasn't just a psychopath. He was a disgustingly handsome psychopath who was well aware of this fact and was not embarrassed to make use of it.

Unfortunately, it happened that he accidentaly found out about my moderate interest in the opposite sex, and from that moment he enjoyed torturing me with himself, perfectly guessing my preferences and weaknesses.

"May you rot in these shavings," I drawled under my breath, sticking a pencil on a blank sheet of paper and tracing a busty doll in a ballerina costume on it, with revenge paints 'Miss Sasori' on her exposed ass. And I would probably enjoy this piece of finest art until the end of the class, if I hadn't realized what my "blank sheet" was and why I just sentenced myself to death. I scribbled a porn image of the puppetry professor on the outline.

The bell rang.

"I would like to remind you that today we have the deadline for submitting the presentation plans to pass," his voice occurred to me as if through a fog.

Did I really hoped it would end well? With my heart pounding in the chest, I tore the rubber band out of my pocket, trying to erase the traces of my crime, as I caught above me the distinctive smell of his perfume.

"It was especially to you, Kawamoto," he announced icily, slipping the battered paper out from under my hands with a nimble movement.

He attached it to the stack of papers he held, without even glaring at it, and left me sitting at the desk with a silent scream of terror on my face.

#sasodei #FINALLY GAWDDDDDDDDDDDD #sasori #deidara #sasori x deidara #sasodei fanfic #sasodei fanfiction #sasodei AU #hannami #puppetry in a nutshell #akasuna no sasori #naruto #naruto fanfiction #my #my fanfic

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liketolaugh-writes · 4 years

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I have the full outline for the verse where this is set; it’s going to be my next WIP as soon as I fail to talk myself out of it.

This scene was not part of that outline. It actually spawned out of thin air. This feels like some kind of omen for how this fic is going to go.

Connor came online at 10:38 PM on the fifteenth of August, 2028, on the highest floor of Cyberlife Tower, in Elijah Kamski’s personal lab. It kept its eyes closed as it finished booting up for the first time and ran an automatic diagnostic of its routines and systems, and only when it received the all clear did it push itself upright and open its eyes to meet the bright-eyed gaze of its creator.

“Good morning, Connor,” Elijah Kamski greeted it, grin wide and pleased, hands planted on the edge of the lab table to lean towards it. “Do you understand your designation and purpose?”

Connor considered him, and then looked down, assessing itself visually for the first time. It had been dressed in a simple, dark sweater, basic jeans standard for a human in their twenties, white cotton socks and… sneakers, dark blue tied with white laces. It tilted its head slightly, and then looked back up and nodded.

“I’ll provide an appearance of physical security to Cyberlife Tower while also keeping a personal eye on the various labs, in order to supervise their conduct,” it answered, using one hand to test the material of its sweater – something elastic and scratchy, not immediately identifiable, so likely a blend.

“And?” Elijah prompted, expression becoming more intense as he leaned closer. Connor cocked its head and ran another check of its directives.

“And I’m also to conduct regular wellness checks on Carl Manfred and the RK200 you gifted him,” Connor answered after a moment. “May I ask for more detail on what you expect a wellness check to consist of?”

Elijah waved his hand in a way Connor assessed as dismissive. “Do a security check, see if he seems sick, check how he and Markus are getting along… Maybe see if you can help out for a bit and get a read on his mood. That sort of thing.”

Connor added those notes into his directive file and reached up to tug lightly at the collar of his sweater. “I understand.”

Elijah gave him another, slightly different grin and held out his hand. Connor stared at it, and Elijah beckoned. Connor turned and slid off the table, and then looked expectantly at Elijah, who waved him on, indicating for Connor to follow him out the door.

“What you need to understand,” Elijah said, as they walked down the vacant hallway, “is that checking on Carl is a high priority. Your security work for Cyberlife is important, no doubt about that – can’t let them running things completely into the ground – and you’ll be coordinating with Amanda on that, I’ll introduce you two in a minute, but you need to check on Carl. Don’t let anyone stop you.”

“You’re planning on leaving,” Connor said simply, drawing the conclusion without difficulty. Elijah nodded, unsurprised, but he did shoot Connor an unabashedly fond look.

“Sooner rather than later,” he confirmed resignedly. “The world just isn’t ready for my designs – you’re too independent, too adaptable. They’d much rather have the mass-produced garbage that our board insists on.” Elijah shook his head, a scowl flickering across his face, and then turned in to another room. “I’m afraid you’ll have to depend largely on Amanda for guidance – I can’t be seen interfering with the company once I leave.”

Connor nodded. “So you activated me to complete a portion of the supervision you will no longer be able to complete,” it concluded. It tugged on the back of its collar again, attempting to calibrate for the texture of the sweater. “Will Amanda be supervising the management and finances?”

“Yes, very good, Connor,” Elijah said warmly. “I’ll be giving the two of you the maximum authority possible, and hopefully that will hold.”

He looked up at a large screen, and Connor followed his gaze. After a moment, the image of a dark-skinned woman with tightly styled hair appeared without background, giving Connor a curt nod and a distinctly assessing look. It nodded in return, already attempting to draw conclusions – perhaps Amanda was an android in another location, given the lack of a background.

“This is Amanda,” Elijah explained, without looking away from the screen, though his lips pressed tightly together for a moment before he spoke. “You will refer to her with she/her pronouns. If you need to answer to someone, answer to her.”

“Hello, Amanda,” Connor said by way of answer, inclining its head respectfully. “I look forward to working with you.”

Amanda gave it a short, curt inclination of her head in return. “I expect you will be an effective and efficient security officer,” she said, crisp and blunt. “Elijah is placing his trust in you.”

Connor nodded without hesitation, and its attention was only drawn away when Elijah clapped his hands.

“You’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other,” he said, something heavy around his shoulders, and beckoned again. “Come on, one more person to meet.”

Connor followed Elijah obediently through another door, and they entered an office space, where RT600 Chloe was idling at a desk. It looked up as they entered and smiled, wide and pleased.

“Connor!” it said, sounding delighted and unconcerned, sitting upright to examine it. “I see Elijah’s woken you up at last. That makes you the youngest of us.” Connor blinked at it, and Chloe elaborated, “Markus was the last of Elijah’s personal designs, at least the ones he’s completed – he was activated just two weeks ago.”

Connor nodded its comprehension, reaching down to tug at the hem of its sweater, considering. “I see.”

“I’d had the two of you finished for a year and a half, but I haven’t had reason to activate you until, well…” Elijah grimaced and did not elaborate. “Anyway, Chloe will fill you in on anything I’ve missed if you have any questions before we leave.”

‘We’ – so Elijah was likely taking Chloe along.

“Is there something wrong with your sweater, Connor?” Chloe asked before Connor could fully consider that, ice blue eyes fixed on Connor, where it was tugging at its sweater again.

“My system is having difficulty calibrating to accommodate the texture,” Connor admitted, casting a brief frown down at its sleeve before instantly refocusing on Chloe.

Elijah let out a delighted laugh. “Is that so! Well, let’s see about a change of clothes, then.”

#connor #elijah kamski #dbh #detroit become human #fanfiction #my writing #chloe #amanda

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highways-are-liminal-spaces · 4 years

Note

Wow, your photos are absolutely stunning, wonderful job! Could I ask what shutter speed, aperture, and ISO settings you use with your longer lens in normal natural light. For example, the 400mm fully zoomed in. I just got my first telephoto (Nikkor 200-500) and getting the settings right is a pain.

Thank you so much!

As for your question, it’s pretty hard to answer that since “normal, natural light” is so variable. For wildlife photography, I tend to go for the highest shutter speed possible, with a pretty low ISO and the aperture automatic (i.e. shutter priority, or the “tv” setting). So for example, most of those bears, which were taken in the midday sun, were taken at 1/1000, ISO 400, and then aperture ranging from f 7.1- f 16.

Then again, I’ll often end up doing much lower light photography and have to bump the ISO up much higher than I’m happy with. Unless I’m actually willing to accept a ton of noise for ~artistic~ reasons or because I just really care about documentation, I have a pretty hard cap set for myself at ISO 1000. The same goes for shutter speed down to 1/250, unless I have something to use as a tripod. I know the rule of thumb for image stabilizer is theoretically down to 1/100, but I’ve never been satisfied with the quality below 1/250.

Mostly my advice is just to play around with it a lot until you feel comfortable. Make sure to check your photos in the field, and to check the histogram not just the look of the photos. That’s actually my #1 piece of advice, your ability to judge the light on a screen in the field is never as good as you think it is. Get used to what the histogram is telling you and listen to it! It’s saved me from a series of horrifically under-exposed photos that I thought were fine multiple times, and I can’t stress enough how useful it is to keep checking.

Hope this helps, and congratulations on your first telephoto!!

#asks #photography

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fandom-necromancer · 4 years

Text

1024. You seem… lost. Is there anything I can do to help?

Okay this is actually an idea for a big story I condensed into a 4-parter of shorts. I mean at my pace I could start writing this full length in 25 years, so... Yeah, better condense it XD

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900 [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [part5] [part6]

‘Reed!’ ‘Ugh, what is it, Chris?’ Gavin demonstrated his disinterest by leaning back and propping up his legs on the desk. ‘New android joining our team. You gonna pick it up tomorrow morning from Cyberlife.’ ‘Yeah like hell I will.’ ‘Reed, don’t do this to me’, Chris sighed. ‘It’s Fowler’s order.’ ‘I don’t care, I’ll not end up like Hank and partner up with some plastic prick. Doesn’t matter they are persons now, they are still phcking artificial goddamn robots.’ ‘You don’t need to partner up with one. Fowler doesn’t want some HR-fiasco if he can avoid it. As far as I know that’s some bot for Lewis. You just have to pick it up because you are the one living closest to that damn tower. Just play nice for one car ride, that’s all.’ ‘Fine. Still can’t believe we get more of these phcking things…’ ‘At least the new one isn’t replacing someone. They talked about needing more android officers to avoid some racist issues.’ ‘Yeah, okay, doesn’t matter anyways. Lewis’ desk is far enough away from mine.’ ‘Good.’

Gavin didn’t like the decision to add new android officers to the force. But he also knew there was no way to stop the world from changing and now that androids had rights, there sure were people who would have fun breaking them. He knew of the old days when there had been injustice and corruption plagued the force and hell, they had all been human back then. No, as long as the damn plastics kept out of his business and didn’t pester him with friendly talking about nothing, he would manage. Just a little detour from his home to the tower and back to work. Roughly fifteen minutes added to his work commute not taking into account he would most likely have to wait in some neat lobby. Meaning he would have to get up a bit earlier than normal. The things he did for money…

He sat in his car, coffee cup in hand, while waiting at the red light of the crossroads that would lead him to the bridge over to belle isle. The light turned green and he began driving again, setting down his cup in fluid, automatic motions. The bridge was devoid of cars, he remembered the vans passing endlessly before the revolution. The gigantic corporation was struggling to adapt to the new situation. They couldn’t produce new androids and sell them to the highest bidder, because that was considered slavery nowadays. They couldn’t produce androids that were immune to deviancy, because that would cause a massive shitstorm from the robot population. But well, people would always find something to make money with and then exploit it just enough to make people rich but not to make headlines.

Still Cyberlife was just delaying the inevitable. It was dying. It was producing spares and upgrades for androids and changed their image to something caring. Androids could get repaired at their centres and could get in contact with them to apply for jobs and find homes. But when New Jericho was still there to make sure android rights were taken seriously and basically supplied the same service, it was hard to compete. Even Gavin couldn’t blame an android to confide into their own over some corporation that took you for an object.

But well, they tried. New slogans all over the roads, telling androids in bright colours they were welcome and Cyberlife was there for them. And someone must had believed them, because at least one android had just gotten a job at the police. How lucky, others would have to work for it. Gavin grit his teeth as he parked his car and walked up the stairs to enter a lobby that spoke of the money made from selling the very robots they now treated as equal. Well, he couldn’t care less as he walked up to the reception and told the pretty woman behind the counter why he was here. Of course, he was told to sit and wait for the android to arrive. Gavin thanked her and didn’t do as told. Instead he wandered through the huge lobby, looking the enormous statues up and down, touching the plants to see if they were real - they were to his surprise - and wandering some more. At this time, he would be late. Damn Fowler if he dared to not pay him full time for this bullsh-

‘You seem… lost. Is there anything I can do to help?’

By now Gavin was far into the area behind the reception not knowing if access was restricted and not really caring about it either. If no one had stopped him, it was their fault, not his. He turned around to look into Connor’s face. Or was it? The tin-can wore a different uniform, wore one at all that was and his face looked different too, although Gavin couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was different. ‘Another RK800 unit?’, he asked and the bot grinned in surprise. ‘RK900, actually. But very close, I am impressed! Do you know any RK800s by chance?’ ‘Yeah, got two of these nagging assholes in my precinct’, he muttered to himself, looking around for a way out. The android in front of him looked every bit the sort of person who wouldn’t shut up talking, because all cues from Gavin’s abrasive body-language went way over his head. ‘Precinct? Are you a police officer?’ ‘Detective, actually.’ God, could this new android please appear anytime in the next century? He would do anything to get away from this baby droid?

‘Oh, that is fascinating! How is being a detective like? My predecessor, the RK800 was designed to be one! I always wondered how it would be.’ Gavin groaned. ‘Well, how about you ask them then, tin-can? I’m sure they would be glad to talk your damn ears off about it.’ ‘Oh.’ The android let his head fall and as Gavin looked at him, he smiled apologetically. He was bigger than Connor, he realised now. And what was different about his face were his eyes. Weren’t Connors brown and not blue? ‘I… Err… I never met a RK800.’ ‘Yeah, I think Connor told me something about being a prototype or something.’ He was still looking for a way out of this conversation but figured the universe wouldn’t be so generous to him. ‘You met Connor? The Connor? The one that helped Markus?’ ‘Yep’, Gavin sighed. ‘That very super nice, definitely not manipulative at all, asshole puppy.’ ‘He must me very friendly. I heard he is very famous. The deviant hunter that turned to help androidkind. I hope to be like him some day.’ ‘Nah, he isn’t that shining star in the sky. Believe me, he knocked me out cold once. I would try searching for some other android idol.’ ‘Do you know anyone else?’ ‘Hey, you are the android, you tell me.’ ‘I don’t know anyone.’

That made Gavin stop his search for a way out for a few beats. ‘Wait a minute. What do you mean you don’t know anyone?’ ‘I was told I am dangerous. I can’t be let near another android because they fear me acting on my programming regardless of me being deviant or not. I live here in this lobby. Security is strongest here in case I try something, and I can stay active like this.’ ‘Wait, wait, wait! You are telling me you never set a foot outside this lobby?’ ‘No. I mean, I spend my days in an underground lab before. But seeing your shocked expression that doesn’t seem to be better.’ ‘No, of course not! You are a damn prisoner here!’ ‘I don’t understand. I am free to go where I want as long as that’s inside here.’ ‘And what do you do all day?’ ‘I watch the people passing by. Sometimes it’s androids coming in and leaving again, sometimes it’s humans leaving with another android. I like to imagine what they do once they left.’ ‘And that is enough for you?’, Gavin asked disbelievingly. ‘I know that this is all I can do without hurting someone. So, I am content with what I have.’ ‘Really? Aren’t you bored? Don’t you want more?’ Gavin couldn’t believe someone to be content with wasting their life away, regardless of human or android. ‘Of course I want more’, the RK900 said, face distorted in a pained expression. ‘I would love to meet new people and see the world. But I can’t. I would hurt people. And I can’t let that happen.’ ‘How do you know you would hurt people? Did that ever happen?’ ‘No. But would you take the risk just to have some nice moments outside? I couldn’t forgive myself if I caused harm.’

‘But-‘ ‘Reed? Detective Reed to the reception please.’ Gavin looked back to the entrance of the lobby, then back to the android. ‘Guess I’ll have to go then’, he muttered and pointed behind himself. ‘Y-Yeah! I guess so, too. It was very nice talking to you!’ Gavin was heading back to the reception as the android called after him: ‘Good luck with your work and stay safe!’

Everything after that felt weirdly numb: The android, a woman named Rita, introducing herself to him with a firm handshake, the ride to work with light conversation Gavin half-heartedly played along to, him arriving at work and getting a coffee on autopilot. All that was overshadowed by a foggy feeling in his guts at the thought of the android being confined to the small lobby because something could go wrong probably. At the rate that humans snapped at others, was that really so much of a risk? He ended up with the conclusion that he didn’t know enough to judge and that it wasn’t his business.

But still that feeling didn’t go anywhere.

[> Next part]

#detroit become human #dbh #Reed900 #Gavin Reed #RK900 #another case of severe soft Nines #This doesn't mean I will never write the big story but I have a list to work off so it will take me a lot of time to ever get there XD #Especially considering the rate I get new ideas at this is a curse #a beautiful curse but still

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realityhelixcreates · 4 years

Text

Lasabrjotr Chapter 66: The Forsaken Soldier

Chapters: 66/?

Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: Mature Warnings:

Relationships: Loki x Reader (There We Go)

Characters: Loki (Marvel),

Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent),

Summary: Loki has several worst nightmares. Here is one of them.

You woke safely in Loki's arms.

“Mmm. I could get used to this.” You murmured, voice morning-rough. Loki shifted so that he could squeeze you a little closer.

“Then sleep here. Every night. You can, you know.”

“I know.” You said, rolling out of bed. “I just don't know if I should. Or if I want to. Well, I kind of want to. No, that's not quite right. I want to be at a point where I feel like I ought to.”

“What holds you back?” He asked, handing you a bathrobe.

“The newness. It's only been a month or so. And I haven't really known you all that long in the first place. I'm still a bit overwhelmed by everything. It's a lot more manageable now though, don't worry.” You hurried to assure him. “It's like being back in school. School is pretty tough; you have to cram a lot into a day, but I did it nearly every day for like, twelve years. I can do it again.”

“Don't let me pile too much on you.” Loki warned. “You may have noticed, but I've been told I have a tendency to go slightly...overboard...with my planning.”

You slipped into the bath, grateful for the warm water. The mornings were definitely getting colder, the closer to November it got.

“We can slow down after Buridag.” You said. “There's a lot riding on the holiday. I want to do it right. As much as I possibly can.”

“You will be fantastic, my dear. The herald of a new era.”

“Yeah, that's part of the problem. You know that.”

“The people will grow to love you even more than they already do. With your dedication, how could they not?”

“Maybe. But they aren't looking at me through your eyes, Loki. I mean, you look at me and you don't seem to see how I could possibly fail, even though I very well could.”

Loki scooped water up into his bowl and doused himself with it.

“Not with me by your side.” He said firmly.

“Okay, but all those people out there might be looking at me and not see how I could possibly succeed without you by my side. Scooting me along, holding my hand, catching me when I fall.”

“But I'm supposed to do that-” He started.

“As a boyfriend, yes.” You interrupted. “But as someone in one of the highest positions in the kingdom, to another person in another of the highest positions? No, I don't think that sets a good example. If I can't do my deeds myself, won't I be seen as...huglausi? Incompetent?”

“No, no. That simply means to be somehow craven. Treacherous and cowardly. Trying and failing is not the same. It takes courage to try at all.”

“It's the failing part I'm most worried about. There's so many people to let down. I've never actually been in a leadership position, Loki. Not over children, not over pets, or my peers, or at school, or at work. I've never actually wanted it, and I'm not sure I'll be any good at it, no matter how much tutoring you give me.”

“Oh. I think I understand now.” He gathered you up into his soapy embrace. “You will not be asked to run this kingdom, fear not. Your main duties will be to me. Helping me with my work, and acting as support. Saga has taught you of this, has she not?”

“Yeah, it's just...Well, it seems like most of the Seidkonas we study also took on a lot of other duties. And we're seeing each other now, and everyone knows it, and I know everyone's thinking about how it went with your parents...”

“They are nostalgic. My parents were well matched, it's true. But we are not them, and we don't have to do things the way they did. No matter how many people wish to project the image of my mother onto you, you will always only be you, and I will always be me. We don't have to be like them, and you don't have to take on more than you feel capable of. Continue learning, continue training, and you will become capable of even more, but you will never need to take on everything yourself.”

“Okay.” You said, nestling into his chest. These morning baths took longer and longer every day, and it was obvious why. “I'm just worried, you know? Three months ago, it seemed like I had all the time in the world, but now it's like I could never have learned enough in such a short time.”

“I will admit that this is a bit rushed.” Loki said. “Normally, a Seidkona is in training for decades, if not centuries. Obviously, that won't work here, which is why I've had Saga try to distill things down to their basic essence for you. You will only have to train for years.”

You sighed. More years of schooling. Well, hadn't you been a little jealous of your classmates that had gotten to go to college? This would just be like getting a special degree. On the bright side, you would be the only human to have that degree, at least for a while. Would that make you an automatic PhD?

“I know it might be better to wait until you have more experience, but this Buridag is of pivotal importance. We should set our new traditions as early as possible.”

“Well, I agree with that. I guess I just kinda wish it wasn't so much all at once. It's so much, Loki.”

He kissed your wet forehead.

“I'll slow it down after Buridag.” He promised. “We can dedicate different days of the week to different subjects. Or switch subjects each week. Whichever suits you best.”

“That sounds good. I would like some calm, quiet times too. I'm not used to so much adventure.” You swayed back and forth in his arms, the water lapping your skin in slippery comfort.

“I like it here.” You murmured. “Right here. It feels safe.”

You heard Loki breathe in sharply, felt his embrace tighten, and you looked up. His expression was...not exactly unreadable, but unfamiliar. But his perfectly sculpted cheeks had gone all red, and his eyes were suspiciously glassy, and you suddenly found yourself wondering if anybody had ever told him that he made them feel safe before.

“It's too bad my magic isn't about time travel.” You continued. “I'd just freeze time right here for a little while just so I could stay.”

“I feel the same.” He almost whispered. “Just here. Just us. No interruptions, no deadlines. Maybe sometime soon. Maybe a tour around Iceland? Just us, our horses, some tents?”

“Camping? I like camping. Can we do that?”

“If you would like to, yes. In the spring, when everything has thawed back out, and we are all tired of being cooped up inside, we can go out and see the wonders of this country together.”

Just you, him, and the horses. Spring in Iceland was beautiful, even from the small glimpses you had gotten. Just you and him, in a tent, under the sky. Firelight and starlight, the chill wind from the mountains, thick woolly blankets. Shared body heat.

“Let's do it. First day of Spring, let's pack up and go see everything!”

All you had to do was get through the winter.

*****

Loki floated along on a buoyant heart. The trust you showed him, the vulnerability! The belief that he could do something about your problems; it was extraordinary.

Had he really done it? Had he really become someone worthy of the love of such a woman? Maybe not yet. He was still keeping secrets, after all. There was still much about his crimes that you didn't know. But soon, he would tell you. And then, he might be worthy. Maybe. He would have taken the first steps, at least!

He'd better figure out how to build that trust up fast, because learning these things was going to damage it. Learning that he was no Asgardian would be bad enough. How might you feel to discover that even the face he showed you everyday was a lie? You'd be in the right to demand to see what creature was really embracing you.

Would you be kind? Would you swallow down your bile at the sight of him, or would you be so overcome with disgust at the revelation that this was what had been kissing you, sleeping next to you, bathing with you, that you would flee from him?

Would you dismiss him and his nobility when he told you of how he had betrayed both of his fathers, and all of his people, usurping the throne and glorifying himself? Would you scoff at his humanitarian efforts and his care for the Asgardian people once you knew about his treasonous acts?

Would you still be here, once he told you about Jotunheim? His greatest, most heinous, most unforgivable crime? Would you even look at him, after that? Or would you disappear somewhere into the outskirts of the city, and never let him lay eyes on you again? He would deserve that. He couldn't even tell you that he was making amends. He had no way to do so. It wasn't as if he could take both sides of the great canyon and smash them back together. He couldn't restore the lives lost. He couldn't even take the throne and rule them as he was born to do: How could a frost giant ever trust him after what he had done to their entire world?

And how could you trust him, after these terrible deeds? The longer he waited the more you would love him, and the greater the betrayal would feel. He knew this. He had lived this! He couldn't possibly put you through it too.

He couldn't make you happy on a framework of lies. He knew this. All of his misery was based on such a framework; he knew how insidious it was. Learning these things was already going to hurt you, just hopefully not so much as to send you running. Perhaps he had already waited too long. Thor had been urging him to tell you, at least about his heritage, for some time now, and it was becoming clear from your ever-increasing affection that he couldn't put it off much longer.

A messenger approached him, a little out of breath.

“Sire.” She said. “The ice wall in the underground tunnels-they've broken through!”

“Thank you.” Loki replied. He'd almost forgotten, but he had told them to let him know as soon as they had reached the other side. “Let them know I will be down shortly.”

“I shall.”

As she turned to leave, a second messenger limped around the corner, leaning heavily against the wall as he approached. His left arm hung lifeless at his side, the shoulder collapsed in a crushed mess.

“M-my liege...” He stammered, barely above a whisper. Loki and the messenger rushed to his side.

“What happened?” Loki demanded, as the first messenger fitted herself under his good arm for support.

“Frost Giant...” He gasped. “In the ice tunnels. It woke up....rampaging...”

“Get him to the healers!” Loki ordered. A Frost Giant in the city! Where? Where? He had to find it fast.

What was it doing here? If it had been in the underground tunnels, sealed up in ice...Could it have been here since the time the Jotnar had invaded, a thousand years ago? That was the last time Jotnar had been on Earth.

Save for himself.

Rushing down the halls, he found evidence of the creature's passing in smashed objects and walls, in horribly still bodies. All leading to the interior of the palace complex.

To the library.

To you.

*****

Today's lesson was on Alfar loan words, with Saga, and Asgard's most unwelcome guest instructor, Gloa. The smug brat had been asked along partly because her ever-present maidservant, Kolla, could actually speak and interpret several languages. You figured it was just another example of the lower class being even more savvy and skilled than the people who assumed to rule them, but Gloa actually seemed to be putting effort into teaching.

It's just that she was teaching a bunch of literal children, and you. And she utterly refused to engage with you. She didn't call on you, didn't address you, didn't look you in the face, even once.

Saga stayed at another table, taking notes, while other scholars hustled here and there for books, giving the class as much room as they could. None of them really paid you any attention, but you still found it a little humiliating to be put in the kids class, getting tutored by a political rival.

You got the feeling that Kolla was subtly tutoring Gloa as the class went on, cleverly steering her from subject to subject in her humble way.

Maybe you wouldn't eventually steal her away into your employ, after all. Not if she was doing the good work of helping Gloa develop into an actual person.

Strange noises and an odd thumping that you could feel in the floor made you look up from your notes, only to see that everyone else had noticed too. The whole library seemed frozen in place, silent, staring at the doors.

“I will check.” Kolla said quietly. Just as she reached the heavy wooden door, it flung open, ripped from its hinges, and slammed her to the floor, trapping her beneath it.

Gloa screamed, everyone screamed, as a huge and monstrous form shoved through the doorway. People ran past you as you stared, to the back of the library.

You had seen something like this before. This was a Frost Giant. Loki's little illusions had not truly prepared you for how massive they were. This one was three, four times your size, one arm encased in a sheath of ice that formed a club longer than you were tall. His head whipped back and forth, red eyes wide and wild. They landed on the children behind you.

You leaped up on a solid wood table between him and the kids, summoning your strength and concentration, you focused on the icy club as he lifted it over your head.

You couldn't teleport it off of his arm. It was like an extension of him, and he was simply too large to budge.

He brought the club down, and you threw yourself off the table just before it was smashed into splinters.

You jumped up onto the next closest table, knife in hand. The children were still in the giant's path, and you shouted at him, waving your woefully inefficient blade.

Magic wouldn't work; he was simply too big. And your little knife might not even penetrate his skin, but you had to keep him distracted. Someone must be coming.

A book sailed over your head and bounced off the giant's shoulder. He turned to you, snarling something, and Gloa leaped up on the table next to you, snatching books from the shelf and pelting him, shouting at the top of her lungs.

The giant charged at you swinging wildly. His club connected with a bookshelf, dropping it against the table, and blocking off the direction you had planed to jump. There was another bookshelf behind you, where Gloa was getting her ammunition, and children to the other side.

Nowhere to go.

The Frost Giant raised his club once more, you and Gloa clinging to one another in terror. In a blur of black and green, Loki flew through the air, to slam a dagger into both of the giant's shoulders. He let his weight drag the blades through the frigid flesh of the giant's back, overbalancing him, and sending him reeling backwards, arms flailing.

The Frost Giant roared in pain and fury; a sound cut short by the sudden detachment of his head by the flying arc of Stormbreaker. You flung your arm up instinctively, catching droplets of blood on your bare skin, and crying out as they burned you.

Gloa dashed away from you to her maidservant, trying to lift the massive door off her, as the Frost Giant collapsed, trapping Loki beneath him.

Commotion reigned: screaming, crying children, help pouring in from outside the library, Thor directing the wave of activity, until everyone was gone, and the library silent and empty.

But Loki was still under the huge corpse, and you rushed to his side. Or, you started to, before his voice rang out, slightly muffled, commanding you to stop in your tracks.

“You made a promise to me, _____!” He snarled. “What did you promise me?”

“Loki-”

“Don't come any closer! Even in death, this body is dangerous to you! What did you promise me?”

“That...That I would hide if I ever saw a Jotun...”

“And did you keep that promise?”

“But Loki-”

“Did you break your promise to me?”

“...Yes...”

He didn't understand. There were kids. And maybe you hadn't been all that effective, but you had kept the giant's eyes off of the children for just long enough.

“And what happened? You were injured again!”

“No, he didn't hit me! I'm fine!”

“I heard you shout!”

“Oh...The blood stung me. It's nothing, really.”

“It is not nothing, you little fool! That's undiluted frost magic! Left untreated, it can freeze your blood within your veins. There was a reason I extracted that promise from you, _____!”

“Loki, there were kids here!” You shouted in frustration. He sounded so furious, and no doubt he had been frightened for you, but you had a responsibility that even he couldn't deny.

“...Get to the healing wing.” He commanded. “Blood burns are no small matter. We will talk later.”

“Loki...”

“Go!”

You went.

#lasabrjotr #loki (marvel)#loki x reader

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bensakindofmagic · 5 years

Text

Dad and His Son

so i wrote an au based on this post, because apparently i like to hurt myself. you can read it if you like to hurt yourself too.

w/c: 1.8k

no warnings, just fluff

A/N: this is an au in which roger is ben’s dad, and for the sake of ease/clarity/my laziness, his mum is a fictional woman. i didn’t want to get bogged down in research and step-parents and exploring those relationship cause this is just a light-hearted wee blurb. don’t get mad about it. right. that’s the admin done with.

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine,” Ben said calmly, coming round to your side of the car as you got out and taking your hand in his considerably larger one. You took a deep breath, exhaling hard, as you took in the house before you. It had been intimidating from the end of the drive as it was slowly revealed behind the automatic gates, and as it grew before your eyes your pulse had started to quicken. It was beautiful, and enormous, and surrounded by fields and forests. You would have marvelled at its magnificence had you not been so nervous of what lay inside.

“Easy for you to say,” you muttered, disgruntled.

“It’s just my parents, and they’re going to love you, Y/N/N.”

Just his parents. Meeting the parents for the first time is hard enough, but when your boyfriend’s dad is Roger Fucking Taylor, that makes everything a little more tricky. Needless to say you were shitting a brick.

He rang the doorbell, even though they had already buzzed you in through the gate, and what was supposed to be a steadying breath rattled in your chest. Ben squeezed your fingers.

“Ben, darling!” his mum gushed, engulfing him in a hug. She managed to wrap him up entirely despite being significantly shorter than him.

“Mum,” he said, detaching himself from her after kissing her cheek, “This is my girlfriend, Y/N."

You smiled in your best impression of someone who’s not feeling horrifically awkward and contemplating a runner, “Hello Mrs Taylor.”

“Oh love, call me Jodie.” She smiled warmly and immediately pulled you into a hug. Ben grinned at you over her shoulder. “Come on in, lunch is nearly ready. Roger! They’re here!” she called into the house, bustling into the kitchen.

“After you,” Ben gestured, raising his eyebrows.

The house was massive, but beautifully light and spacious. A large staircase stood proudly in the middle of the hall, splitting the room and leading to the upstairs realm. Evidence of Queen’s rock-god days lay casually scattered everywhere, hiding in plain sight — framed gold discs were hung on the walls beside artworks, photos of the band were camouflaged between groups of children smiling giddily up from their frames. Conscious of not appearing nosy but wanting to see everything, you peered furtively through a half open door to see piles of old records surrounding an enormous speaker.

“Come on,” Ben gestured with a nod of his head, “I’ll give you the tour later.”

You allowed him to rest his hand lightly on your lower back, anchoring you to him as you ventured into the kitchen/living room.

Roger — that being Roger Taylor. Actual Roger Taylor — was sat in an armchair, idly flicking through the channels on the TV. He glanced at you over his shoulder, piercing blue eyes like ice as they caught you in their hooded stare. Ben may have got the green from his mother but the intensity of colour, the gaze that turns you into a puddle on the floor, that was all from his dad’s side.

“Rog,” Ben’s mum admonished, “come and say hello.”

He stood slowly, and crossed the space between you: it seemed to take a lifetime. Your heart thumped loudly around your head, the sound bouncing between your ears with each step.

“Dad, this is Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he said, testing the word on his tongue, and held out a hand to you. His skin was soft with age but still calloused in the places where his drumstick fit between his fingers. A smile hid beneath his moustache. “Ben’s told us a lot about you, but I see he didn’t mention how beautiful you are.”

Your blush was ferocious.

Ben scoffed, “Yeah, alright Dad. I know you still fancy yourself as a ladies’ man, but can you not flirt with my girlfriend please?”

“Well someone’s got to do it,” he mumbled, turning his attention over to his extensive wine rack. You laughed, incredulous, and Ben just rolled his eyes.

You sat down for lunch and gratefully tucked into the beautiful food Ben’s mum had made, making sure to to compliment her and thank her for her hospitality. You were desperately careful, as images of knocking over wine glasses or sending plates crashing to the floor with your elbow flooded through you mind’s eye. Ben felt your tension and laid a palm on your knee under the table.

He gave it a gentle squeeze and shot you a slight smile.

“Are you keeping up your drumming, Ben?” Roger asked.

His hummed his assent while he swallowed a mouthful, “Yeah, not as much as I’d like, what with work being so busy, but it’s a good stress reliever.”

“Are you a musician, Y/N?” Jodie inquired.

“No, no I’m not. I’m a music lover, for sure, but I never learnt an instrument.”

“But she has an incredible voice,” Ben interjected.

You fought a blush and admonished, “Given present company I think that’s something of an overstatement.” Roger chuckled; you felt a small glow of pride in your stomach.

“Y/N, sweetheart, tell us about yourself. What do you do?”

“Uh, I’m a film journalist. I actually met Ben to interview him for a piece.”

“So your thing is movies? Which is your favourite?” Roger asked.

You shook your head, “I can’t answer that, it’s like picking between your children.”

“That’s easy, Ben’s sister Rory, she’s the smart one.” His face was stoic but his glinting eyes betrayed him.

Ben grunted sarcastically, “Cheers Dad.”

Ben held conversation a lot of the time, knowing how nervous you were and how you struggled to make conversation with new people as it was. He talked you up wherever he found an opportunity and made it easy for you to engage. By the end of the meal some of your nerves had worn away and the gnawing in your belly was replaced with a satisfied fullness. Roger sat back, sated, and announced, “Alright Y/N, you get one question.”

You looked to Ben in confusion, “I’m sorry?”

“People are always dying to ask about Queen, and I like so you I’m going to give you one question. Make it a good one, mind, not just ‘what was Freddie like?’ Or ‘which is your favourite song?’”

“No pressure then,” you sighed. “Okay, who was best at scrabble?”

Roger laughed heartily. “Oh Brian, obviously. He got the highest score I’ve ever seen — it was ‘lacquers’ and he scored 168, the bastard. But Fred was a bit of a dark horse too. He used to just put one tile down and connect this here and that there and tot up all these points.”

His eyes glazed as the memory played out in them. He gave a sad smile, cheeks dimpling with the weight of it. “Oh the adventures of life on the road.”

You got the tour of the house after lunch; Ben showed the studio and his old bedroom and you delighted in seeing his old photos in his room. You gasped, picking one up, “Oh my gosh, Ben, is this you?”

A smiling Freddie Mercury was holding a blonde, rather pouty-looking baby.

“Yeah,” Ben smiled softly, “I never knew him properly, he died when I was still really young. But it’s pretty special to think that he knew me.”

There were more traces of Queen, and other rock ’n’ roll bands, around the room, posters and albums, and the drum kit in the corner bore the band’s logo. Photos chronicled his childhood, frequently featuring a much younger Roger. It was bizarre to you, to see that version of the man you recognised from your favourite band, holding a young boy who would grow up to become the love of your life. How strange, that those two strands of your life converged in the preserved bedroom of a teenage boy.

“I didn’t know you were such a Queen fan, Ben. You don’t talk about it much.”

Ben shrugged, “I was a bit obsessed when I was a kid. Obviously I’m still so proud of Dad, and I love the music, but I guess I’ve toned it down a bit. I’m following my own path now, but back then I wanted to be just like him.”

His hand was sat limply in his pocket, so you threaded your arm through his and kissed his cheek. “I think it’s sweet.”

“What do you think of them?”

“Your mum and dad? They’re lovely.”

“Not going to scare you off then?”

“Never,” you smiled.

Back downstairs you offered to help Jodie with the washing up while Ben and Roger talked shop in the studio about some new drum kit or other.

“You’re too good to them, letting them skip out on helping clear away,” you joked as you dried up.

“Oh I wouldn’t usually,” Jodie mused, “but Rog likes it when Ben’s home. I think he misses the kids more than he cares to admit. But I hope that means you don’t let Ben get away with not doing his fair share!”

“Absolutely it does. He’s good about it though, you taught him well.”

“I’m glad to hear it… You know, you’re the first girl he’s ever brought home to meet us,” she said, glancing at you. Your movements stilled. “I think he’s always been nervous about it. I suspect he was worried that they’d be intimidated by the whole thing, that his dad would scare them off. But he was very keen for us to meet you. He was most anxious that we make a good impression.”

Her words took you aback; you had been so worried about your own nerves that you’d barely stopped to consider his. When you came to think of it, there had been a slight tension in his shoulders, a hint of rambliness about the way he had spoken, as if he felt he had to fill the silences before they materialised.

Jodie continued, “You know, I thought you must be someone pretty special if he wanted us to meet you so badly. I’ve been very excited about it.”

You smiled meekly, pressing your lips together, “I hope I didn’t let you down.”

“Oh of course not darling, it’s been a pleasure. And it’s very sweet to see you with Ben, he looks so happy with you. I think he’s quite smitten.”

You were spared your blushes by footsteps in the doorway and Ben came in, followed by Roger, asking, “What are you two gossiping about? Already ganging up on me?”

He slipped his arm around your waist and looked down fondly at you.

“Hm, something like that,” you hummed, and returned Jodie’s knowing smile.

He leant down to whisper in your ear, “I think they like you,” and nudged your cheek with his nose.

Roger smiled, eyes sparkling, “Son, I’d say this one’s a keeper.”

#ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy fanfic #ben hardy blurb #ben hardy au #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy x female reader #taylor!ben hardy #soft ben #roger taylor #dad!roger taylor #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #queen #the absolute shit i put in these tags #*shakes head in disappointment with myself*

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tisthenightofthewitch · 4 years

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THE NEXT CHAPTER: TOBIAS FORGE AND THE FUTURE OF GHOST

Their Kerrang! Award-winning fourth album Prequelle took Ghost from cult concern to global superstars. But the arena-filling congregation of fans is growing restless for clues as to what’s next for Cardinal Copia, Papa Nihil and the ministry. Let Tobias Forge, then, take you behind the mask and into the making of – and future plans for – a band like no other…

The WaMu Theater, Thursday 19 September. Last night this venue – attached to the side of CenturyLink Field, the home of the Seattle Seahawks NFL team – played host to the ‘Groover from Vancouver’ himself, Bryan Adams. Tomorrow it’s the turn of the Pacific Northwest city’s beloved sons, grunge legends Alice In Chains, for their last show in support of their sixth album, Rainier Fog. Tonight, though, Seattle gets the latest ritual on Ghost’s extensive Ultimate Tour Named Death.

Despite this morbid moniker, the scene inside the building is one of lively activity, with techs rushing around to finish the show’s elaborate staging. The house lights illuminate the stained glass window backdrop, while the seating, flat on the floor and sweeping upwards towards the back, furthers the illusion we’re in a vast church. Just then, Tobias Forge, the man whose job it is to address tonight’s 5,000-strong congregation appears. Kerrang! doesn’t notice him at first given the ninja-like silence of his approach, but there’s an intensity to his presence in these make-or-break moments of preparation.

“I’m interested in tour production, so I get to know a lot of these things,” he offers matter-of-factly. “I’m sure I only get to know about 40 per cent of it, but I notice if things aren’t in place.”

As a nine-year-old child, Tobias used to watch the documentary 25x5: The Continuing Adventures Of The Rolling Stones on repeat. The film charts the rock legends’ genesis in 1962 and their steep, heady ascent to becoming the biggest band in the world, circa their 1989 album Steel Wheels. Tobias considers their subsequent Bridges To Babylon Tour (1997-1998), which made more than $274 million and became the second-highest grosser of all time, to be the greatest ever piece of rock staging, and he was evidently taking notes even then. As a result of the level of professionalism he aspires to, you get the distinct impression he’s not a man who suffers fools gladly in this setting – an idea he doesn’t go to great pains to dispel.

“I want to know who’s in the shit today,” he explains. “Who has been put in the situation where his or her job is compromised, because I don’t want to start yelling if it’s a case of, ‘Oh my truck didn’t arrive in time today,’ because then I’ll know what the problem is. If you want to be a good boss, it’s very important you keep things on your radar.

“I’ve definitely got into trouble over the years by being too nice to people and giving them too much slack,” he continues, surveying the operation. “When you do that it’s like with dogs: if you don’t tell them what the rules are, they start making up their own. That sounds horrible, but there are 40 people on this tour, so there has to be a line and a curriculum. I’m adamant about getting my vision through, especially now we’re in this transitional phase between theatres and arenas.”

This increase in scale reflects the continued upswing in Ghost’s popularity, which has seen them go from misunderstood cult band to metal superstar status in the space of less than a decade. Despite this success, Tobias clearly isn’t taking anything for granted. Ghost haven’t played Seattle for three years, but this time around they’re doing two shows in Washington State, the other being the one they played at the Toyota Center in Kennewick two days ago, which has a capacity of 6,000 – almost eight per cent of the city’s 80,000 population.

Tobias may or may not be referring to that show when he discusses his unbridled joy at recently playing in an unnamed city that doesn’t get a lot of large-scale entertainment coming through town, save for appearances from KISS, singer-songwriter Pat Benatar and a touring production of the musical Wicked in recent years.

“None of us had ever heard of this place, and I’m pretty good at geography,” he explains. “But I loved being the singular moment somewhere, instead of the seventh show they’d had there on that particular week.”

And while Tobias describes the resulting night as “phenomenal”, earlier in the day there was an “unforeseen curveball” when the company who were meant to be selling merch at the show pulled out at the last minute, citing Ghost’s satanic image for their decision. This was, of course, a throwback to earlier shows, such as one in the Texan city of Odessa in 2018, when a minister attempted to dissuade people from attending because of the band’s threat to the morals of good God-fearing people. Unsurprisingly, this outburst resulted in an increase in ticket sales.

Despite this more recent – and, these days, more unusual – blip, Tobias’ desire to cover as much ground as possible on tour this time around is inspired by his heroes in Iron Maiden and Metallica, who have long provided him with the blueprints for achieving and navigating monumental success. In this case, the lesson he’s putting into practice is that every location Ghost visit, without exception, should be treated the same.

“The most important thing to me on this tour is that we bring the same production to everyone,” he says. “They all get the full-fucking-monty, whether they’re in Sioux Falls [South Dakota] or New York.”

The walls backstage at the WaMu Theater are lined with Seahawks jerseys, personalised with the names of acts that have performed here, including The 1975, Bastille and Nas, and the rockier contingent featuring twenty one pilots, Halestorm and Dropkick Murphys. Various rooms lead off from these labyrinthine corridors, providing sizeable production offices for the band’s tour management and crew, all of who wear dapper black shirts, trousers and braces affixed with silver broaches of Ghost’s upside down cross insignia. They affectionately address Cardinal Copia as ‘Cardi C’ when he appears later for a fan meet-and-greet. Here, too, are the dressing rooms for the headliners and the opening act for this tour, San Antonio rockers Nothing More.

On all of the doors is a distinct A4 page, the day sheet for this show, which not only details what’s happening, where and when, but also includes a different tongue-in-cheek quote for the occasion. Today, for example, in recognition of the touring party travelling overnight to Vancouver for tomorrow’s show at the city’s Pacific Coliseum, we get this gem courtesy of Britney Spears: ‘The cool thing about being famous is travelling. I have always wanted to travel across seas, like to Canada and stuff.’

Tobias, of course, has actually travelled over oceans to be here. Nowadays he lives in Stockholm, the capital of his native Sweden, with his wife and their 11-year-old twins, but he was born in Linköping, the country’s seventh largest city, where the steeple of its 13th century cathedral dominated the skyline. That’s not what the young Tobias was fixating on, though. Instead, aged five, when he already knew he wanted to transform into another person, he’d stand outside his childhood home and gaze down the street. The sun always seemed to be hovering between the buildings at the end, like a fixed but intangible hand beckoning him to get on a plane and go somewhere else and be someone else.

“The days and options seemed limitless,” he recalls today. “For some reason I always thought of the world as being there for the taking, even though I didn’t have any access to that world.”

In spite of this, he felt a deep affinity with his heroes, like the Rolling Stones and Queen, who also came from places you didn’t automatically associate with being breeding grounds for rock gods.

“I felt similar to them, even if they grew up in Dartford [Rolling Stones] or an island off the coast of Africa [Zanzibar, the birthplace of Freddie Mercury]. I, too, felt out of touch with my surroundings, and knew I had a higher calling.”

Twenty-three years later, in 2009, Tobias realised he hadn’t made much headway in heeding this call. He’d been in bands from a young age, from death metallers Repugnant to alt-rockers Magna Carta Cartel. The latter featured Martin Persner and Simon Söderberg, who’d later appear as Nameless Ghouls in the first incarnation of Ghost. Söderberg, along with some other ex-ghouls, is now embroiled in an on-going lawsuit with Tobias over what they suggest are the rightful shares of profits they’re owed from their time in the band. Tobias doesn’t volunteer any information on this topic today, which is perhaps understandable given the considerable column inches already dedicated to it.

Regardless, none of those early bands provided Tobias with the success he needed to, say, quit the day job. He had then been working in a call centre, aiding people having trouble with their mobile phones. Despite spending his childhood endlessly sketching elaborate stage designs and lighting rigs, he still has little interest in technology, particularly mobile phones. Back in 2009 his personal life was happy and satisfying, having welcomed children with his then-girlfriend – now wife – though this potent reminder of the finite time we have drew his attention to the area of his life he recognised as falling short.

“I had an epiphany,” he explains, raising his hands as if sizing up an imaginary canvas. “I found myself very far from the path, so decided in the limited time I have to invest everything in the one thing out of all my [professional] options I believed most in, which was Ghost. I understood wholeheartedly what it was, the music and the image, and felt I could do it without my vanity coming in, because I didn’t like how I looked in pictures or the sound of my own voice. But this would be fiction, so that was fucking cool. So I took all of my eggs and put them in one basket and was back on track. For the first time in my fucking life I was really focused.”

For evidence of the dividends this paid, you need only look at the fact that just a year later, with the release of their 2010 debut album Opus Eponymous, Ghost exploded on to the scene, taking the first step to becoming metal’s hottest new hope.

Further proof of this focus comes today from interviewing Tobias somewhere there’s a screen showing news channel CNN. We’re in the band’s pre-show warm-up space, which is decked out with guitars, keyboards and an electric drum kit he removes the stool from to sit in the centre of the room. He admits if he were in a hotel room now, he could easily watch CNN for 24 hours straight. He doesn’t so much as turn his head to look at it now, though, giving his full attention to the interview at hand.

Even at 38, an age he says his kids consider “as old as shit”, he remains remarkably boyish looking. His dark and piercing eyes, however, belong to an older soul – and it may be Kerrang!’s imagination – but they appear to moisten at several points during this hour-long chat, particularly when connecting the dots between his past ambition and what he’s achieved today.

“I’m trying to recreate a lot of things that aren’t necessarily real,” he says mysteriously. “In my head they’re real, and I’ve been given this fantastic carte blanche where I don’t have to sit in a fucking call centre anymore and am applauded for getting to be someone else. It’s perfect for someone like me who has a fundamental problem with functioning normally in society. If it wasn’t for the fact I was doing this, I would be completely useless.”

When Ghost signed with their American record label, their mythology wasn’t the deep well of fascination it is today. In fact, there was nothing to it at all. They had a unique aesthetic and a sound that didn’t necessarily go with that look, something that would wrong-foot new listeners in the early days, but Tobias didn’t have an answer to why Ghost were the way they were.

“They said the music was great but asked, ‘What’s the story? What’s the biography?’” recalls Tobias. “I said there was no biography because there was no story to tell. I wanted people to throw themselves into the vision and make up their own. But in the end I had to come up with one, which is second nature to me now. Even [Norwegian black metallers] Mayhem had a story. In the early ‘90s, before the internet, there was something that compelled us to want to find out more and listen to their music.”

This mythology Tobias has developed over the years was furthered with the release of Ghost’s fourth album, last year’s GRAMMY-nominated Prequelle, which introduced Tobias’ latest incarnation, Cardinal Copia, a character fans have come to love if the number of $40 plush toys sold at the merch desk tonight is any indication. More recently, a web series on YouTube has added to the intrigue, with the latest episode harking back to 1969, when a young Cardinal Nihil was fronting Ghost at the launch of their EP, Seven Inches Of Satanic Panic. That just so happens to be the band’s latest release in 2019, which will also be available as part of Prequelle Exalted, a limited collector’s edition of the album. Meanwhile, The Ultimate Tour Named Death has introduced the EP’s two new songs, Mary On A Cross and Kiss The Go-Goat, to its set list.

While Ghost’s music has always tipped its papal tiara to the ‘60s, particularly its psychedelic leanings, the latter song in particular sees them take this interest a step further. How much can we glean from them, then, with regards to where Ghost goes next? Not too much, as it turns out, according to Tobias, who suggests, as with the YouTube series, it’s a way to deepen the story of Ghost spanning from the ’40s to the present day, without necessarily providing clues to the sound of album number five.

“It’s just there for shits and giggles,” he laughs, before revealing that Kiss The Go-Goat, a song that’s been knocking around for some time, actually had the working title ‘The Throwback Single’. “I grew up listening to ‘60s music like the Rolling Stones and The Doors, as well as metal. People shouldn’t read too much into this direction, though. The next album is going to be something completely different from that.”

Can Tobias perhaps give two words to describe where, musically or thematically, album number five is heading?

“I’d choose the words ‘fifth’ and ‘album’,” he replies with a wry smile, before justifying what seems like a diversionary tactic. “I look at many fifth albums as a guide as to the urgency for what that record will need to be, with [Iron Maiden’s] Powerslave being a great example. By the fifth album you’re at a point in your career where you have this momentum built up, and you have the expectancy of people depending on you, so you have to put something special in those many spotlights. You need to step up and make a record that’s worth it and justifies all of these things.”

Who, then, can we expect to see fronting these rituals in future?

“I just know that person will have the name Papa Emeritus IV. It will be the fourth Papa Emeritus. But who that is, we don’t know yet.”

We’re not sure we believe him, so push for more. Might we see Cardinal Copia graduating to Papa status? The latest episode of the web series seems to indicate the ‘Sister Imperator’ character and Papa Nihil conceived a child. Wouldn’t that make him part of the papal bloodline?

“I think that what you will get over the next year are a lot of answers to a lot of questions,” offers Tobias, keeping things vague.

Like the question of whether Sister is pregnant? (In the latest ‘chapter’ of the web series, Sister attacks a woman at a Ghost show for smoking next to her).

“We don’t know that yet. It would blow my mind if she was now,” he says, clearly referring to the elderly Sister in the present day. This suggests she could well be with child back in 1969, though.

Has Tobias sketched what this new Papa will look like?

“Have you ever seen The Big Lebowski?” he asks by way of an answer, referencing the scene in the Coen brothers’ classic where Jeff Bridges’ character, The Dude, spots someone drawing on a notepad. When the man leaves the room with the piece of paper, The Dude rushes to scribble on to the page below to reveal the outline of what’s been drawn, only to discover it’s a doodle of a cock and balls. “It’s something along those lines.”

Sensing Tobias is in full evasion mode by this point, we change tack. Perhaps understanding his ambitions, and whether there’s a summit to them, can shed some light on the future – especially as he seems more focused on what Ghost’s next album will do rather than what it will sound like.

“I wouldn’t necessarily compare [my ambitions] to what the Rolling Stones have done, because that was a completely different time under completely different circumstances. For the last 40 years they have sold tickets because of nostalgic reasons, and maybe 40 years in the future there would be a nostalgia element for Ghost, but I can’t count on that.”

“I regard Metallica as colleagues and friends now, but they’re still Metallica,” he says of the thrash legends Ghost supported on their European stadium tour this summer. “I am an ambassador and they are presidents. But when I look to Metallica for influence, I’m looking at what they did in 1988. We’re on our fourth album, as they were on the Damaged Justice Tour, so the next stop is the Black Album.”

Spotting Kerrang!’s obvious joy at this admission, Tobias is quick to clarify exactly what he means by this.

“You have to make a responsible record,” he adds emphatically. “That doesn’t mean to expect riffs. It’s two different things – what the record sounds like and knowing to put yourself in the right spot at the right time. When I had nothing, and lived in a small apartment that cost very little because the ceiling leaked, the dream was to be able to live off making music. When I had kids that became even more important. Now it’s about something else. I’m responsible for showing my wife and my kids that all these years of waiting for me have been worth it. And that goes beyond money, because at the end of the day that’s just seasoning. One day my kids will be grown-up and I have to be able to show them that all this time playing rock shows had a real purpose.”

Of course, it doesn’t hurt that Tobias loves touring.

“I’m like a sailor,” he says. “I just love being on the ocean. I’ve not always been on tour, but I’ve always been a transient person. And the road to achieving all this is endless, just like the road I looked down when I was five seemed to me at the time.”

Kerrang

#Tobias Forge #Tobias Interview #The Band Ghost #Ghost Band #Cardinal Copia

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