#you may notice these are all from the first 11 pages! yes. i am pacing out my reading so i dont go insane all at once | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

damienthepious · 4 years

Text

ah shit we broke 50k on this beast. happy Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday

Scattered on my Shore (Chapter 12)

[Ch 1] [Ch 2] [Ch 3] [Ch 4] [Ch 5] [Ch 6] [Ch 7] [Ch 8] [Ch 9] [Ch 10] [Ch 11] [ao3] [Ch 13] [Ch 14] [Ch 15] [Ch 16] [Ch 17] [Ch 18] [Ch 19]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla, Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Rilla, Lord Arum, Sir Damien

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, Pre-Relationship, (for the three of them. it’s established r/d), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Injury, Injury Recovery, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, (this will also be), Enemies to Lovers, (for damien and arum eventually lol)

Fic Summary: Strange things wash up out of the lake near Rilla’s hut, on occasion. But this monster… this monster is certainly the strangest.

Chapter Summary: Damien and Arum, Arum and Damien, and Rilla- Rilla is having a difficult evening.

Chapter Notes: Yesterday was the one year anniversary of the day I first started writing Penumbra fic. Oh, how time flies. Oof. Also. Hm. I've been mentally calling this the emotional whiplash chapter. Be gentle with yourself? Warnings for blood, violence, fighting, canon-typical deception, canon-typical monstrous horrors and canon-typical monster-horror deaths, including some upsetting imagery that I wrote at like two a m and then was a little perturbed by the next morning. Uh. I think that's everything? I swear this fic is soft sometimes.

Rilla still tastes sticky pink at the back of her sinuses, reeking strange but somehow vaguely sweet, and Tal's voice calls out through the jungle. Tal's voice is not the only noise, though. There is crashing, tree limbs cracking, shouting and roaring and rattling that makes Rilla's stomach twist with familiarity she doesn't want to place.

She clings to Marc's shoulders as Dampierre runs them towards his brother's voice. She catalogs symptoms, catalogs coincidences in the back of her mind, and she hopes that the twinge of instinctive terror in her gut is wrong.

Time sighs past them, tortuously slow, and Arum is beginning to suspect that the knight is deliberately attempting to drive him out of his skull. Eventually Arum's thin patience snaps, and he sits up straight in the bed, tail thrashing as he scowls.

"Must you do that?"

Damien doesn't seem to hear him. He paces in a tight circle on the other side of the room, seemingly unaware of the book still clutched tightly in his hands, unaware that his knuckles are going pale with that tightness. "Saint Damien above, please," he murmurs to himself, for perhaps the eighteenth time, "oh I cannot lose her, I cannot- how can I remain here, still and unharmed while she flies towards danger with a smile, my Saint? How can I endure the torturous burden of safety while my beloved could be in any peril, any peril at all? Perils unknown! Perils unknowable, teeming in the dark of night, and with my forever-flower accompanied by so untrustworthy a companion-"

"Songbird, honestly, the squawking-"

"The Salamander, of all companions, and I must remain behind, must either leave her unprotected- or precariously protected, at the very best, or else I shall break my word to her! To act otherwise would be to break not only the bond of my word, but to break her heart in the same moment-"

Arum barks a laugh. "Oh please, honeysuckle. I do not think Amaryllis' heart is quite so fragile as that." He snorts. "Not quite so fragile as yours, that is, always aching and cracking within you."

Damien pauses his pacing, then shoots the monster a scathing look. "What business have you, beast, in discussing either of our hearts?"

"You certainly won't shut up about it in earshot," Arum growls. "Forgive me for misconstruing a conversation out of your ceaseless heartsick blather."

"I would not expect a monster to understand the value of prayer, Lord Arum," Damien says through his teeth. "Nor the ache of love."

Arum opens his mouth, meaning give a biting retort, and then he remembers Amarayllis' eyes, and how soft they were when she asked-

He closes his mouth again, sighing, and Damien eyes him suspiciously for a few moments before he resumes his pacing, resumes his muttering.

The poet's heart speeds again as the minutes continue to pass, his breaths growing more shallow. Arum does not know what else he is meant to focus on, besides Sir Damien slowly twisting himself to pieces. His words are running so fast that they have begun to bleed together, almost too panicked for Arum to parse into individual thoughts, and when Damien chokes on a breath and his eyes go bright Arum cannot keep his mouth closed another moment longer.

"You are not helping, Damien," he says, and the knight turns towards him, his lips curling in something that could have been a scowl, if he did not look so otherwise distressed. "If your prayer has value, so be it, but it does not appear that it is doing anything at this moment beside causing you to pull your own feathers out. Stop- stop thrashing about and find another thought to worry on. Threaten me again. That certainly seemed to amuse you, before."

Damien startles, oddly, somewhere in the middle of Arum's words, and then he goes still. "I…" he pauses, coughs. "I suppose… I suppose I have been- twisting and drowning in the mire of this misery for far too long," he mutters, pressing his hand over his mouth. "Tranquility is… so terribly far from me, this night," he says, even more quietly, more to himself than anything.

"Amaryllis is clever and ferocious. I very much doubt she would bolt off in foolishness at the risk of her own neck. Do you imagine that she would wish for you to drive the both of us to madness in your worry? If your words are not helping, find other words, or other action. Do something useful, honeysuckle. If you continue as you are, you will simply distress yourself further." He pauses. "And continue to give me a headache."

"Something useful," Damien echoes, his gaze distant. "What … I cannot compose in this state. I cannot- I do not know what to do. I am…"

Enough tension pulls at the poet's frame that he looks as if he may crack in two.

Arum sighs. "Here," he says quietly. "Give me that book, at least. Before you go ahead and snap its spine in your little talons."

Damien looks at his own hands, then, as if he had forgotten that they existed entirely, his grip on the book finally loosening. "Ah-"

"Amaryllis was going to share the notes with me anyway. I may as well begin work on my translation. Perhaps I can have a page or two to share with her when she returns."

"When she returns," Damien whispers. "When she returns. Yes. Of course, when she-" he shudders out a breath, and then he steps close enough to Arum to pass the journal to him.

The leather of the binding feels warm from Damien's hands, and Arum brushes his thumb over the label on the cover, written in Amaryllis' impatient but neat scrawl. "Excellent," he says, because he does not wish to say thank you. "Now, perhaps you should check the food, as she asked, honeysuckle. Perhaps it will be easier to calm yourself if you have a moment where you need not share the room with so foul a beast as I."

Damien opens his mouth, his cheeks darkening, and then he snaps his jaw shut again, looking away. "The food. Yes," he murmurs, and then the poet retreats.

When Damien leaves the room Arum leans back, sighing and allowing himself his own moment of worry.

A couple hours. Amaryllis is- Arum's words were in no way false, she is both clever and ferocious, and he does not know this other human she has gone into the wilds with, but he cannot imagine that she would trust her protection to someone unworthy of that honor. This is her home. Certainly she knows the territory that surrounds it. Certainly she will be in no danger at all.

Certainly.

He composes himself before Damien returns with their meal, and Damien is tense and stiff but he finishes his bowl without another muttering collapse, which Arum is learning is as close to a success as he is likely to manage. He resumes his translation, then, poring over the thin botanical tome and trying not to notice as Damien's heart gradually begins to race again.

The poet straightens, suddenly, standing from his lean against the counter, and then without a word he goes back out to the front room again, leaving Arum watching his back in alarm. When he returns he is clutching what appears to be- his bow, his armor, his quiver and packs and all manner of miscellany. Damien crouches to drop the lot of it on the floor, somewhat close to Arum's bed, and then he sinks to sit beside the pile, pulling his bow out first and examining it with keen, narrowed eyes.

"What are you up to now, honeysuckle?" Arum asks, lowering the books in his hands.

"Something useful, I hope," Damien warbles in response. "I have been meaning to restring my bow for weeks, now. I cannot do much else, at the moment, so I may as well perform the tasks I have been delaying in favor of more pressing matters, as I am being currently pressed to stillness instead."

Arum certainly cannot complain about that. Damien's expression has gone focused, poised, as he carefully and skillfully bends his bow into the proper position for him to remove the current (apparently unsatisfactory) string. Arum eyes the rest of the pile curiously, observing the well-battered armor, the quiver which looks both old and loved, patched with many careful mendings.

Arum narrows his eyes at the rest of Damien's packs as the knight carefully begins the process of restringing his bow, and a small plain leather sheath catches his attention. He reaches with his tail to pull it out from the rest, lifting it to take into his hands, setting Amaryllis' book and its translation aside on the sheets for a moment.

"Hrm…" Arum notes that this leather is vaguely tattered, but not mended with care as the quiver is. He slips the knife out, and Damien turns towards him and tenses at the edge of his vision but Arum is far too distracted to care because- "Honeysuckle, have you no respect at all for your weaponry? I understand that you favor your bow but-" he turns the blade in the light, noting the dullness of the edge, the light speckling of rust across the metal. "This is a travesty. It is dull as a branch and it looks as if it went swimming with you. You would be more likely to harm yourself with this mistreated thing than any enemy." He growls low, scraping his claw along the edge of the blade, bringing it closer to his snout to inspect more closely, clicking his tongue in disappointment. "Careless. Negligent. You must have a whetstone somewhere, oils and the like, honeysuckle. Bring them here this instant and I will give this little blade the care it has been denied."

Arum continues to turn the blade close in front of his eye, and it takes him a long moment to realize that Damien has not moved. Arum blinks, shaking his head, and then he looks over the metal and Damien meets his eye, his seated stance tense, his hands on his bow gone slack and his eyes bright with worry and with- something else Arum cannot interpret.

Arum frowns, unsure for a long moment precisely what the issue is, before he realizes-

A knife in his hands. An armed monster, and a knight with his bow unstrung.

Of course.

Arum looks away from Damien, his breath rattling in discomfort, and his hands flex against the hilt of the blade. He inhales around the strange weight in his chest, and then he hisses the breath back out through his teeth. "Don't be foolish, honeysuckle," he manages in a growl. "What could I do with this wretched knife that I could not do with my claws already? If I wanted to hurt you, there would be cleverer ways than this. Bring me the tools. I do not care to watch you oil and polish and spoil your favored toy over there while this little edge remains in disrepair. Besides," he gives a short, stilted laugh, "a dull knife is far, far more dangerous than the alternative. I will protect you from your own negligence, have no fear."

Arum does not look back towards Damien, so he does not see whatever expression it is that the poet wears as he stares for another long moment. He manages not to look when he hears Damien rise to stand, as well, though when the knight leaves the room he cannot keep his shoulders from sagging.

Damien does not have the first clue what Arum is capable of, with any sort of blade. Damien does not have the first clue what Arum is capable of at all. But obviously, obviously the knight's instincts are sound. He is more correct than even he knows.

Damien returns, and without a word he hands Arum the requested tools, and then he goes to resume his own tasks.

Without a word, Arum turns the blade in his hands, and then he begins the slow, gentle work of restoring it to its proper sharpness, and shine.

The false Rattlepanther is a puddle of melted spores behind them, and Dampierre bursts out from a tangle of bramble and glossy leaves. Their entrance into the clearing scatters the thick pink mist enough that Rilla sees the source of the noises immediately, the shouting, the fighting-

Damien and Arum, trying to kill each other in the mud, just beneath the enormous thumping threat of the Numb-Cap.

They're both bloody already. The bandages on Arum's midsection are soaked through with red beneath the dirty brown, his frill is worse off, even, than it had been when she found him in the first place, and Damien- Damien's arms are totally sliced up, obvious claw wounds, and there is a similar gash across one cheek, too, bleeding brightly over his chin and down his neck as they grapple with each other, their legs caught tight together in the sticky grip of a writhing pink slime mold beneath them.

"Damien! Damien stop-"

They do not pull away from each other, but both of them glance towards her for a moment as she leaps down from the saddle, Arum with his teeth bared and bloody, Damien with his eyes flat and hard and blank.

"Of course," Damien says in a cold murmur. "Of course. I begin to doubt and- and you, my precious flower, you come like dawn to show me my true path. To remind me of my duty. This creature has twisted your mind, has pulled your heart from me-"

Her heart plunges like a stone, actually, at the accusation. "Damien, that's not-"

"Has upset the order of our very lives. It is for you, my love, that I must kill this monster. I must slay this beast."

"If you even can, you boasting little fool-"

"Don't! Stop! Just- don't do anything, I'm coming over there and-"

"Rilla, wait-" Marc grabs her shoulder, and Rilla fights back an urge to smack him. "Remember how it was with Talfryn. They're knee-deep in slime, and for all we know they could be more of those spore illusion things, right?"

"I-" Rilla looks back towards them, and then she meets Marc's eyes. "I don't know. I don't know if- I don't know why they would-"

"If you go over there you're gonna get stuck in it too," he says, and Rilla grits her teeth together tight.

"If they're real they're going to kill each other!"

Marc's brow furrows, but he shakes his head. "So what do we do, then? Maybe we can pull Damien out, but that monster's not gonna make it easy, and we gotta do that without getting sucked in in the meantime."

"I know, I know," Rilla chokes, her mind spinning in helpless circles as Damien and Arum fight. "I just- I'm thinking, I'll-"

"Do you think they're real?" Marc presses, squeezing her shoulder, and Rilla looks up at him for a moment before she looks back towards the grappling pair. "Talfryn- those things he said. All of that- it was on my mind today. Would Damien fighting a monster like this, would that have been on your mind today? Or- is there any chance Damien would even be out here?"

She and Marc have been turned around enough- Rilla doesn't even know how far they are from the hut, anymore. Could Damien and Arum actually be out here? Is that possible? Rilla doesn't have a clue. Possible or not, though-

Real or not. Rilla's heart is pounding and pounding and pounding. Louder than the Numb-Cap. Twice as fast, too. Damien and Arum trying to kill each other- would they? Would they really, or is Rilla just so scared, does the idea hurt her so much-

Arum isn't evil. Arum wouldn't hurt her. She knows that. She's been hoping that Arum not hurting her would extend to Damien, too, but- but Damien still thinks-

Rilla can't even tell who's winning. Damien's bowstring is snapped, it looks like he's just trying to stab Arum with one of his arrows instead, and Arum is holding him back from completing the strike with two clawed hands digging into his wrists, his other hands swiping towards Damien's stomach.

"Stop!" Marc's hand on her shoulder is the only thing that keeps her from bolting towards him. "Saints- stop it! Stop fighting! You're going to kill each other-"

"I will slay this beast," Damien snarls, his muscles straining as he twists, barely avoiding the claws and barely having his own strike held off. "I must do my duty-"

"Get on with it, then, honeysuckle," Arum snarls, claws drawing blood at his wrists, and Damien cries out-

"Arum!"

"I told you, Amaryllis. I warned you that you would not be able to collar him-"

"Be silent, beast," Damien shouts, wrenching his arms back from Arum's resisting hands, "and die-"

Damien's hands bring the arrow down, and Arum's hands swing his claws up-

And Rilla isn't even sure which terrifies her more.

Damien plunges the arrow into Arum's shoulder and he gives a pained, gasping snarl that stretches into almost a howl, and at the same moment Arum's claws find Damien's ribs, making him scream.

Rilla could scream too. She can- she knows- the angle of the arrow, the depth of Arum's claws, she can still fix them, both of them, she can still make this okay if she can get them away from each other-

If they're real.

Arum digs his claws in, twisting his wrists. Damien shouts, and grits his teeth, and pushes the arrow deeper, and behind them, the Numb-Cap beats like a giant exposed heart.

Rilla takes a breath. She digs her hand into the satchels at her belt.

"Step back, Dampierre," she says, and as the horse moves she moves with him, until they are just barely far enough, and then she throws the explosive.

It catches quickly. The slime mold races with fire as if it is soaked with oil, and the fighting figures are caught within it, so-

They burn beneath the mushroom, screaming and writhing, and Arum does not pull his claws from Damien, and Damien does not release his grip on the arrow. Not even when the both of them melt and pop into a flurry of burning spores, as the Numb-Cap's horrible beating heart finally scorches out.

Death grip, Rilla thinks grimly, and then she leans heavy against Dampierre.

She guessed right. It wasn't them. She didn't kill them.

The light of the flames is still burnt into the back of her eyes, two twisting silhouettes, intertwined.

She guessed right.

That doesn't make her feel better. Not at all.

"There," Arum says softly, and Damien, who has long since finished with his bow and has now resorted to rearranging the entire contents of his traveling packs, looks up.

"There?"

"It has been treated as well as possible, with the tools provided. I hope it shall not be so neglected again."

He holds the knife out between them, then, hilt first, and Damien-

Damien stands, slowly, and steps close enough to reach out and take the blade back.

Arum drops his hand and his gaze once the knife is in Damien's hands. Damien lifts it closer, inspecting, and-

It is beautiful. Arum even polished the hilt, even cleaned the grit from the engravings. Damien can see the surprise in his own eyes reflected in the new shine of the metal, and he can tell when he tests it against his thumb that it is sharper, perhaps, than it has ever been.

"It is nearly as sharp and dangerous as I am, now," Arum hisses low with a flick of the tongue, and something about his tone coils in Damien's stomach, and his breath catches and his fingers twitch and-

"Ah!"

Damien only barely manages not to drop the blade, though he has run the curved tip across his palm, below his thumb, pulling open a shallow red line.

"Honeysuckle-" Arum sits up straighter, his tongue darting in the air again, and then his brow furrows deep. "Foolish creature. I sharpened it. Did you not think it would then be sharp? "

"My- my hand slipped, Arum, I assure you it was not some intentional testing of your word. Ah, ah-"

Arum slips from the sheets, rolling unsteadily to his feet. "Let me see- ah, not too terribly deep, then." He reaches a hand out, taking the blade back, and then he pushes Damien so that he stumbles to sit on the bed instead. Damien makes an instinctive noise in protest, but Arum narrows his eyes sternly. "Sit, you delicate little songbird." He turns away then, limping to the counter and then reaching to rummage through the cabinets, grumbling to himself as he goes.

"Arum, I-"

"Hush. I have seen the doctor work enough that I believe I can manage so small a wound as this." He returns with disinfectant and a roll of bandages, and when Damien opens his mouth to protest again he scowls. "I should certainly love to see you attempt to apply all of this one handed, honeysuckle. It was my efforts that you managed to damage yourself upon, allow me to fix it so you may not lay this blame on me as well."

Damien feels his cheeks darkening as Arum kneels heavily beside the bed, and then he takes Damien's hands in his own with an inarguable sort of gentleness, turning his palm upwards and hissing low. His eyes glitter as he examines the injury, as he begins to treat it.

Lord Arum does not work with the same smiling sort of care that his Rilla does, but he is efficient and attentive, even as he growls under his breath. When he slices through the bandage with a claw to separate it from the roll, Damien's pulse jumps oddly, his breath catching, and Arum meets his eye for a moment.

"Careless little honeysuckle," he murmurs as he finishes the wrapping. Then he draws his claws over the white of the bandages on Damien’s palm with a delicacy that makes Damien's skin race with something that feels like lightning. "If I did not know any better, I would think you were trying to have your petals plucked…"

Damien feels heat rush through him like a furnace door thrown open at his back, his hand flexing in Arum's grasp. "I… Lord Arum, I…" he pauses, and Arum's eyes are so vivid, so strange. "Th-thank you."

Arum blinks, and then his vivid eyes drop. He releases Damien's hand, then shifts to grip the bed so he can pull himself to stand. "Don't thank me," he mutters, his tone so entirely blank after the strange warmth that came before. "It was my sharpness that cut you. I was simply ensuring that you would have no evidence to throw in Amaryllis' face to push further towards my death, little knight."

The coldness of the words pushes Damien to stand, far more than Arum climbing back into the bed does.

"Arum-"

"What?" Arum is already curled onto his side atop the blankets, already turned away, but he shoots Damien an irritable look over his shoulder. “What, knight?”

Damien feels his mouth hanging open. His eyes draw slow along the strange, elegant curves of Arum's snout, his teeth, his horns, but he cannot find the right words.

The pause hangs too long, and Arum drops his eyes with a sigh, rolling to face away.

Damien feels his heart, thudding like a stranger at the door. He lifts his bandaged hand, cupping it to his chest, and he feels the wound pulse too, with each unceasing beat.

The jungle is darker, after all that fire, and there is a glass jar rattling heavy (in metaphorical weight) in Rilla's pocket, and Rilla has enough Numb-Cap to make Marc's medicine for years, now, and she's so tired that she feels like she could collapse. And Marc-

"So… Rilla… do you want to-"

"No."

"You didn't even let me finish!"

"You were gonna ask again if I wanna talk about it, and I don't, Marc."

"But, Rilla-"

Rilla scowls and starts walking faster, pulling ahead of Marc and Dampierre for a moment or two.

"Rilla! C'mon, don't- don't be like that. You can't honestly expect me not to be worried! That- that whole thing-"

"We handled it, Marc. It's done with."

"We did and don't get me wrong, any adventure with that many explosions is gonna wind up featured prominently in my memoirs, but seriously, what the hell was that?"

"A bunch of big, gross, mutated fungi with shitty magic metaphor powers," she gripes, but Marc pulls Dampierre in front of her, making her stumble to a scowling stop. "Marc. I want to go home, finish your pills, and go to sleep."

"You know that's not what I meant, Rilla." He stares down at her, his eyebrows furrowed with uncharacteristic gravity. "That fake-monster that fake-Damien was trying to kill. You called it by name, Rilla."

Rilla's muscles tense. She hadn't- she didn't realize that-

"If you're doing something dangerous- we're family, Rilla. I just want to know that you're safe, okay? It's been … things have been dangerous, lately. More dangerous than normal, I mean. The monsters have been pulling stuff like that fungus, you know? Stuff that gets in your head, uses your fears against you, turns you against each other, and I just- I know you won't take a break from your work, but I need to know that you're at least looking out for yourself."

"I'm looking out for myself, Marc," she grits out through her teeth, and then she pushes her way around Dampierre. They're close enough to the hut that she can see the light through the underbrush, and she just doesn't have the energy-

"I'm just- c'mon, I'm not being unfair here, I know I'm not," he says, trotting after her again. "Just tell me why you seemed just as freaked out about Damien hurting that lizard as you did about it going the other way, Rilla, because I just can't-"

She spins back, scowling. "Drop it, Marc!"

"Just give me something to go on, here! Give me something that lets me know you aren't doing something illegal and dangerous again, because right now I'm scared that the next time you get caught red handed, they're gonna skip the exile and go straight for execution!"

Rilla's breath catches. "I- I-"

"Rilla," Marc says. "Please. You know that I love you. You gotta talk to me, because if things have gone so wrong that I'm the one worrying about you? We're breaking the natural order of the universe, here. Water's gonna start flowing uphill next thing you know."

A laugh pushes past her panic, choking but sincere. She hesitates, then steps closer to Marc again, reaching a hand to rub Dampierre's ear as she meets Marc's eye.

"I love you too," she says, first, and then she sighs. "I wish I could explain, Marc, I really, really do, but- but I don't know how to. You just have to trust me. You have to trust that I know what I'm doing."

"You say that even when you don't know what you're doing, though," he points out, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, well." She shakes her head. "This time I mean it, okay? Look, just- I didn't know for sure that they were fake when I burned them, Marc. I had a solid theory, but I didn't know, and I still did it because I knew it was the right thing to do. Because I knew Damien would rather burn than kill himself with guilt, and because I knew if I was wrong about A-" she stumbles. "About the monster, if he would hurt Damien or anyone else, it would be my fault. So- so I burned them."

"Rilla…"

"You have to trust me," she repeats. "I know that I'm right. That I'm doing the right thing. But- but if the evidence doesn't bear that out, I'll … I'll face those consequences. I'll deal with the situation. I'll fix it."

Marc's frown eases, just slightly, and after a moment he sighs, reaching out to pat the back of her hand. "Alright, Rilla. Okay. Just… be careful? And- and just- let me know, y’know? If you need help, if- if things get out of hand."

Rilla sighs, too tired to bristle properly at the suggestion that she might need help, and then she nods. "I know, Marc. I will. Now c'mon, we're almost there, and I still gotta make your medicine."

They hear Rilla come in through the closed exam room door, and she calls out very clearly to Marc through the outer door before they hear her pull the window open so she can continue to talk to him as she starts to mix her ingredients together.

It takes about an hour, all told, and Damien does not relax that entire time. From the way Arum keeps forgetting himself and growling low, from the way his tail continues to flick and thrash, neither does the monster. Eventually, though, Rilla passes some quiet words to Marc, and then she finally, finally closes the window again. Even through the door Damien can hear Rilla sigh so deeply it makes Damien's heart pull, her exhaustion a physical sort of pain within him.

Once he hears the hoofbeats fade away from the hut, Damien pulls the door of the exam room open and Rilla is already standing just outside, her legs muddy to the knee, her hair pulling from her braid and clouding around her, her eyes bright, and she looks at him and then over his shoulder at Arum and then her shoulders sag and her face splits with such relief that it looks as if it may crumple her.

Damien takes her into his arms instantly, without thought, guiding her back out into the front room. "Rilla, my dearest, my Amaryllis, you aren't hurt, are you?"

"No. I promise, I'm not, I just-"

"What happened?"

"Monster mushrooms, basically," she mumbles, shrugging, and Damien tries not to feel it like ice in his guts, his failure to protect her. "We- we dealt with it."

He inhales, exhales, prays for a silent moment, and then he asks, "And you are certain that you were not hurt?"

"I'm just-" her voice is too thick, but she gives a laugh through it, waving a hand in the air and pushing her hair out of her face. "Tired, that's all. I'm just- exhausted and covered in gross fungus slime and- and I've got about a thousand sticks caught in my hair, and- and- and I'm glad," she laughs again, a little wild. "I'm glad you didn't f-fight, while I was gone."

"Of course not," Damien says, as soft as he can manage, and then he pulls her closer, squeezing tight for just a moment before he spins, turning her as if they're dancing for only a breath. She chokes a surprised laugh against him as he gently maneuvers her to sit by the table, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. "Now. I can help with at least one of your dilemmas, my love. Let me fetch a brush, and I will at least help you comb the jungle from your hair before we sleep."

She inhales a shaky breath, then nods. "Alright. I'm- I'm not gonna argue if you wanna- if you wanna spoil me a bit," she murmurs weakly.

"Always," he murmurs through a smile, "I always do." He kisses her temple again before he straightens to go fetch the comb.

When he returns, Arum is in the doorway of his room, peering out at the herbalist with obvious concern, leaning heavily on his crutch.

"You are- not injured?"

Rilla sighs, and that more than anything assures Damien that her exhaustion is no small thing. Ordinarily, she would at least scowl at having that question asked of her a third time.

"Merely weary, she assures me," Damien says, and Arum flicks his eyes towards the knight for a moment before he frowns, and then nods. The monster watches as Damien steps close again, sinking to sit behind Rilla so he may take the tie from her hair, and slowly begin to comb out the tangles, the leaves and- and bits of ash that seem to have stuck there.

She sighs again, deep and tired, leaning back into Damien's hands, and he slowly, soothingly, quietly combs out her hair. He's nearly forgotten Arum watching them by the time the monster slowly crosses the room, sinking to sit at the other end of the table, watching with suspicious, curious eyes. When Damien is finished, when he has managed the worst of the tangles and brushed out the soot and debris, he sighs, and then he starts to separate out the sections to pull her hair into a new braid, but-

"Ah. Hm."

His hand. The hurt is almost entirely dulled, by now, but the placement of the cut and the resulting placement of the bandages make it so he cannot quite bend his thumb in the way he needs to. Rilla glances over her shoulder, blinking at him muzzily, and then she finally seems to notice the injury herself, sucking in a startled breath.

"Damien, what- what happened? " She pulls his hand into her own, her thumbs gentle on his skin, and over her head Damien watches as Arum cringes, drawing his shoulders up towards his chin, clearly expecting-

"Simply a cut, love. I was going through my packs, and I was careless, and I cut myself. I assure you I am fine."

She frowns, and then she shoots him a look. "This bandaging is too neat. You didn't do this."

Brilliant, Damien thinks helplessly, his heart pooling with bright, sparking love. "No," he says. "It would have been too difficult, of course, with only the one hand. Lord Arum was… generous enough to assist."

Lord Arum hisses under his breath at the mention, his frill raising and his face turned decidedly away from the both of them, now, hidden by the folds.

"He was, huh?" Rilla says, and her amusement manages to push through the layer of exhaustion that hangs upon her. Amusement, and a clear note of fondness, as well. "Well…" she pauses, gently turning Damien's hand in her own, biting her lip. "I… my hands are a little… shaky, at the moment. Maybe he'd wanna be generous again, just for a second?"

Arum freezes, and then his frill presses to his neck and he glances towards the pair of them with a look of alarm.

"Wh- what do you mean? What do you want?"

Rilla ducks her head, and then she glances up at the monster and Damien knows what she means, even if Arum does not.

Damien feels, perhaps, that he should be… concerned, at the very least. Disgusted, perhaps. But…

"Do you… do you know how to braid, Lord Arum?" he asks, tilting his head, and Arum blinks, and then scowls.

"Of course I do. Don't ask foolish questions."

"Would you… perhaps… would you help me to braid Rilla's hair, again? With my hand…" Damien frowns gently at himself, and he fully expects the monster to snap, to laugh, to bolt.

Arum stares, his violet eyes wide and stunned, and then he drops his gaze, pulling his hands close to wring awkwardly in front of himself for a moment before he seems to become aware of what he is doing, and then without answering he- he crawls closer, bringing himself beside Damien and stubbornly not looking at Rilla as she smiles, breathing a soft laugh.

"Fine. Helpless little thing. Move aside, will you?"

Damien shifts, moving to sit beside Rilla instead, and then he gestures for Arum to take his place, and the monster does so with a graceless grumble. Rilla exhales, her eyes closing again as three of Arum's hands (the fourth, his broken wrist, apparently not quite dexterous enough for the task just yet) sink into Rilla's hair, parting and sectioning it off before he starts to weave an elegant braid slowly down.

Arum's shoulders are stiff, at first, but Rilla is quiet in front of him and the monster seems to ease into the pattern of the motions, eventually, and Damien is quiet as well as he watches, the movements of Arum's scaled hands almost hypnotic in their rhythmic consistency.

Rilla falls asleep before he is halfway done. Damien thinks that Arum notices that this has happened as well, considering the way that his motions grow slower and more careful as his claws carefully twine her hair together. When he reaches the last few inches, Damien passes him the little leather band for him to tie at the bottom of the braid. Damien tilts his head to better see the rippling whole of it, a complex and beautiful weave, even if it was only done with three of the monster's four hands. Damien is unsure if he could replicate it with only his two. He finds himself wondering what sorts of complexities they could create if he and Arum were both to…

Arum is staring at the braid as well, and he lifts a hand as if to drift it down the softness of Rilla's hair, but he stops himself just before he makes contact. He pulls his hand back to his chest, clutching the scales just over his heart, and Damien feels his own heart skip, oddly.

Arum glances towards him then, his tongue flicking.

"What… ah… she has-" he pauses, hissing a low, concerned noise. "Amaryllis is sleeping on my legs, honeysuckle. What- what- what do I do?"

Damien barely manages to muffle his laugh so that it does not bubble bright and loud. He does not wish to wake her, if he can help it, but it is- ridiculous, utterly absurd, for Lord Arum to be so thoroughly trapped merely because he does not wish to wake Rilla. Damien has some degree of practice in this arena, however.

"Just be still for one moment, Lord Arum," Damien murmurs, and then he comes closer, eyeing the both of them and taking a moment to determine his approach. He leans down, slipping one arm beneath Rilla's knees, the other behind her back. It is impossible not to touch Lord Arum in this, too, since she is leaning back against the monster, and his scales are cool and strange against Damien's arm. Arum hisses low at the contact, and his chest is rumbling in a way that vibrates against Damien's skin. Damien tries not to notice. Tries not to feel the way the contact makes his stomach twist, the odd contrast of Rilla's gentle warmth in his arms beside Arum's coolness, and then he carefully, carefully lifts.

Rilla, safe in his arms, her head slumping to rest against his shoulder with her monster-woven braid rippling down her back, and Arum stares up at the both of them with his head tilted, his expression focused and wary, and Damien smiles without meaning to.

"Thank you," he murmurs, and Arum scowls but does not deflect this time, and Damien drops his gaze from the monster as he carefully carries Rilla to the bedroom.

When he reaches the doorway, however, he hesitates, and then he glances back towards Arum, still sat amongst the cushions by the table.

"Can… can you manage back to your room on your own?" Damien asks, after a pause, and Arum looks away.

"In a few minutes, perhaps," he mutters. "I believe the doctor put my legs to sleep along with herself."

Damien stifles another laugh, pressing his lips softly to Rilla's hair to hide his smile. He hesitates again, but then-

"When I have settled her… I will come help you to your feet again, at least," he murmurs.

Arum blinks, his thin lips parting in surprise, but Damien simply nods and carries Rilla into her room, before Arum can thank him. Before Damien can memorize that precise look, flustered surprise shaping Arum's inhuman face.

[->]

#elle's fanfic #the penumbra podcast #second citadel #rad bouquet #lizard kissin' tuesday #scattered on my shore #lord arum #sir damien #amaryllis of exile

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nessamaurice · 4 years

Text

Simple, Ch. 11 (Loki x F!Reader)

Masterlist

Summary: Tony and the Avengers are in desperate need of something like a “babysitter” to have an eye on Loki and teach him “how to human”. He decided to stay on Midgard over the dungeons of Asgard as punishment for his deeds in New York. That’s where you swoop in. A simple receptionist at the Avengers compound. You have to share an apartment in the compound with Loki and damn, he’s a really tough nut. With your open and kind character it seems that you are slowly cracking his shell. But suddenly things are getting twists that will change your life and your relationships there irreversibly.

Story rating: M

Chapter trigger warnings: PTSD/flash back, trauma

Words: 2845

Your whole body hurt incredibly as you opened your eyes. Terrified you saw that you were back at that awful lab, dozens of needles sticking deeply in your skin. You couldn't focus correctly and thus didn't saw what was happening right in front of you. You felt electrodes getting glued on your head and started screaming to the top of your lungs as the burning pain pierced into your brain.

"Y/N! Y/N, wake up! It's just a dream, it's alright!"

Carefully being shaken you slipped back into reality. As you opened your eyes you saw a very concerned Loki looking down on you, loose black locks framing his face. In that moment you realized you were still screaming and shut up the next second. Loki looked up from you like to someone else and said something but you were too drowsy to follow the actions. Tears were rolling down your temples and you were trembling. It was just so cold... Half asleep, half awake you turned on your side and curled up so tightly that you were just a little human ball, clasping your legs and pulling them up to your chest so that you could burry half your face between your knees. Shaking you tried to fall asleep again but it just didn't work; you knew that it wouldn't within seconds. Quietly you started to cry without knowing why exactly. You gasped as you felt hands at your shins. Loki had brought a soft, woolen blanket and tugged it neatly under your legs so that your front was completely covered, except for a small gap for your face so you could breathe. But your back was still uncovered so you wanted to roll around and pull the blanket over your shoulders as the mattress behind you dipped a bit. An arm wrapped around you under the blanket and pulled you slightly backwards to the warm body laying down behind you. Loki curled up to your back and held you.

"Don't worry, I'm by your side. You will not slip from my grip, nothing can happen to you. I'm with you. You are not alone."

***

You slowly awakened and the first thing your brain recognized was a familiar scent. Fresh linen and leather. You opened your eyes and saw an open book, held by big hands that were clearly not yours. You felt a chin lightly touching the top of your head. Then slowly the memory came back and you recalled your nightmare and how you got comforted into sleep again. Heat was rushing to your cheeks, being aware of the full body contact behind you while Loki slowly changed pages, not realizing you were awake. You stiffened completely, not knowing how to react. Loki noticed the change in your muscles and whispered your name.

"Are you awake?"

You awkwardly cleared your throat. "Ahem, yes. I'm sorry. How long have I slept?"

"It is now 10 am the next morning, so you slept a good amount of hours. What did you apologize for?" He spoke with a low voice; you felt the vibration of its sound where his chest touched your back.

You still didn't know how to move, so you stayed right there, totally stiff. But you had to admit, being so close to him was extremely calming. "That you had to climb here in with me. I'm pretty sure you're not really the cuddle type." You laughed nervously.

"You may be right, this is not something I would declare common for me. But I know what to do to calm down a traumatized person having something like a panic attack. And I’ve been in far more uncomfortable situations."

You could hear him smiling with the last sentence which just made you blush even more. It was so long ago since you’ve been close to somebody. To anybody. Your muscles began to relax a bit and the fact he didn't move away reassured you a bit.

"What are you reading?" You suddenly wanted to know, surprising yourself.

Loki closed the book with the finger he had on its cover. You immediately threw your hand against your forehead in shame.

"Oh my god. Where did you get this from? Why are you even reading it?"

"Your uncle brought some of your books from your room and I got bored. Not that watching you sleep isn't entertaining, but at some point I wanted to get my thoughts elsewhere. So I grabbed the first book from the stack and the title sounded truly interesting."

"Wait... what?" Now you turned to face him, "Watching me sleep is entertaining?" You imagined yourself snoring and drooling onto his arm and wanted to sink into the earth right away.

Ignoring your comment he just went on, seriously looking at the book, "Star Wars - The Phantom Menace. How could I resist? And, to my own surprise, it is not as bad as I expected your human literature to be. It clearly has lots of flaws regarding numerous techniques of writing and storytelling, but for such a young civilisation it could have been worse."

"You only say that because you haven't seen the movie."

Loki pulled his arm from beneath your head and pushed himself up on it, looking down at you.

"There's a movie from this?"

You turned around, now lying on your back, with a surprised expression.

"You know what movies are?"

All he did was giving you pouty look before he elegantly swung off the bed.

"I better get you something to eat before you get too impudent."

You watched him as he strode out of the room. You caught yourself biting on your lower lip and directly scolded yourself. You explained it with the hunger you felt in your stomach and not with any other kind of... hunger. He wasn’t even your typical “type of prey”. But you had to admit you felt calmer when he was around. He had some kind of aura that made you feel… understood. Acknowledged. Safe. You stroked over a shaved part of your head to distract you. It already turned scrubby, except for the parts where the electrodes were stuck to your head, leaving bald circles. You looked down at your arms, at the slowly healing cuts. You could recall how you got each single one of them, you would never forget that. You felt the burning of every single wound, you could locate them in your mind. Not only your skin would stay scarred for the rest of your life, your mind would never be the same again, too. You were marked, inside and out. Always to be identified as a victim of Hydra. Not only a victim, but a tool as well. You hurt others just to keep yourself a little less unharmed. You penetrated their minds, their feelings and covered them with your own, forced them to feel differently than they naturally would. You looked down at your hands and suddenly got the intense urge to peel off the skin of your palms. Just that moment the glass door of the medical room you were in opened and Loki entered with a tablet loaded with the most different things for breakfast. You quickly rose your head and felt like you've been caught doing something bad. You watched his face turn from a relaxed smile into a severely concerned expression.

"By the Allfathers, what happened?"

He paced the room towards you with just a few steps, put the tablet on the table next to your bed and sat down in front of you, taking your face gently into his big hands. You weren't able to meet his eyes.

"My dear, look at me. Come on. Speak with me.", he softly encouraged you.

Hesitantly you looked into his face. He wiped with his thumb over your cheek, that was when you realized you were crying.

"I... I am a monster." You choked on your sobbing voice. "They made me a monster! Look at these-" You raised your palms a bit and looked down on them "Everyone I touch will be like an open book to me, they will not be able to choose what I’m allowed to know. And even worse… they will be forced to feel what I feel. Their souls will be plastered over with my own emotions." You suddenly looked up to Loki. "They made me a mental rapist for the rest of my life!" Your eyes got lost looking around the room as you realized what you just said. "Oh my god..." You covered your mouth with your hands as you started to sob uncontrollably. Loki pulled you to his chest and held you tight.

"I am so sorry this happened to you. I know it is too early for you to accept this, but just let me tell you, you are no monster. For sure not. I know what I am talking about, believe me. ... Do you want me to get your uncle here? He was forced to leave for a mission and I promised to look after you, but if you prefer his company I am sure he-"

"No, don't. Don't leave. Please." You grabbed his shirt and held on it for dear life. You didn't want to be alone again. As soon as he would leave your side you knew the horrific memories and thoughts would come back immediately. "I'm so sorry" you wept into his chest.

"It's okay. Of course I'm staying. Do not apologize my dear." He pressed you a bit closer to him.

Loki looked over to the door and was surprised to see his brother coming along the glass front and just as he wanted to open the glass door he saw the scene and stopped mid-movement, obviously confused. Loki slightly shook his head and pointed to the side, meaning him to leave. He conjured an illusion of himself a bit further away in the corridor to speak to his brother without disturbing you.

"Hello, brother."

"Loki? What is going on? Why are you holding this crying woman? Who is she? What did you do?" Thor walked out of view towards his brother's illusion.

Loki rolled his eyes before he answered "That is Y/N. I am not the reason she is in this abysmal condition. She got kidnapped and tortured by that Hydra cult over a week ago. We managed to save her, but it took us a few days. They injured her body and her soul severely. It appeared that she has empathic powers and Hydra forced them to the surface, now she is able to feel other's feelings and even to alter them only by touching them with her hands. It is hard for her to cope with that."

"By the Allfathers, that are awful news. Does she need any support from our home?"

"I don't think that would be good. Midgardian souls are different, we don't know how the effects would be on the long term."

"Yes, you are right." Thor stopped for a moment and looked Loki deeply in the eyes. "And you are comforting her?" He raised his eyebrows. "I never thought you are able of being that sensitive."

Loki sighed, "Well, brother, unlike you, obviously, I can be perfectly sensible if I want to. And again, unlike you, I know what she feels like right now. I have been in familiar situations.“ He paused talking to Thor as he said some comforting words to you. „I have to leave now, if you would excuse me."

"Of course, Loki. Let me tell you that I am as surprised as I am impressed. I am truly happy that you found a person that brings this part of you to the daylight. Farewell for now, brother." Thor wanted to leave, but stopped. “Mother would have been really proud of you.” Then he gave him a short smile before he walked through the illusion, causing it to disappear.

Now his attention was fully yours again, though the words of his brother echoed in his head. But he had no time to let that sink in, not now. He pulled away a bit and touched your chin to move it upwards, making you face him.

"Y/N, if you feel comfortable with that, I want you to know that you can tell me anything. If one day you feel like you want to talk about what happened to you in there, know that I will always be there listening. I want to help you heal. I wanted to offer that to you earlier, but I backed away."

You looked him dead in the eye, wiped over your wet face and asked him a question he was visibly surprised by.

"Why? Why do you want that? Not that I am not thankful for that, but at first you were different towards me. Cold, distant, skeptical. Now you are so sweet and caring. I just don't understand that. ...Why?" You grabbed a tissue to clean your face while you watched him writhe on the inside. But you really wanted to know that- needed to know that. You really wanted to trust him, but that question became more and more present in your subconscious. After all he did, after all that happened to him, it seemed somehow counterintuitive. You expected him to be hardened after all that, and that it would take so much time and patience to get to his core. You watched his face carefully. He went from confusion to reluctance, brushing along temper but finally settled with surrender. He closed his eyes and sighed, searching for the right words to start with. He turned to directly face you.

"I knew you were different from the first moment I saw you. There was no... contempt, no prejudice in you. Just curiosity and maybe a bit of fear", he smiled as he said that, "Every human I met by now looked at me with this certain look. This look that mirrors how I view myself and it's like a confirmation of all the evil in me. But you... And as you moved in it appeared that you really wanted to help me. And you were so... compassionate. It didn't took me long to define why I like to be around you. You met my reservedness not with impatience but with forbearance. You let me know that you actually wanted to be there with me, not like you were forced or that you had to endure my company for some other advantage or reward. It felt like you counted me getting a bit more open as your reward. You really wanted me to feel comfortable with you and offered me so many options to get closer without becoming pushy. You gave me time to think and sort out my words when we spoke; something I never did, I always have been very quick with my tongue but that led me nowhere. It is new for me to think about how my words would affect others truly. And you took everything I said serious. All that gives you such a wonderful aura, an inner glow I feel very attracted to. I didn't mean to get so close to you in such a short time, that's not my way to act. But when I saw you there, being captured and obviously tortured, I knew I have to overcome my restraint and pride and be there for you, just like you deserved it. And I knew pretty well what you would need once we got you back here. I have been in familiar situations so often in my life and I know exactly what I would have needed back then but no one was really there for me; noone who would have been able to understand. And I pushed away the very few ones that tried to. I don't want you to feel like I did and thus endanger your beautiful soul to harden. I cannot allow this to happen. Well, and that is why I am willing to give you all the comfort and intimacy you need to cope with this dreadful situation you are in. I hope my honesty will help you to trust me. And, if you allow, let me emphasize my candour." By saying that he slowly took your hand in his, your palm up, and covered it with his other hand. You audibly gasped as his emotions rushed through you. Every word he said appeared to be true, you could feel everything, he wanted you to feel it. Being confronted with so much genuineness almost overstrained you. You could do nothing but stare in his blue-green eyes. It felt like an eternity but you could not manage to let go of his hands or to look away. You noticed yourself moving towards him without knowing why. You simply wanted to be closer to him. You felt so vulnerable right now and you wanted to feel safe again. His gaze was concentrated on your eye that wasn’t patched up and suddenly his emotions changed into thrill, almost electrifying you. Both of you were a complete mess but it felt so right.

Taglist: @it-jinxed-us , @humbledarkness, @lunawitch19, @redryderdesigns

#loki #Loki Laufeyson #loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki fiction #slow burn #loki slow burn #marvel fan fiction #marvel #ptsd #ptsd mention #fanfic simple #nessa maurice

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arigatouiris · 5 years

Text

out of my league // t.h — 14

Pairing: Tom Holland x Critic! Reader [I use female pronouns]

Warnings: swearing; fluff; angst; hurt/comfort; pining; a little bit of cliche because come on.

A/N: You guys are the best. Thank you for such kind comments, it’s made me happier than you could imagine. Thank you. So, this chapter is just tooth rotting fluff. And would you hate me if I said this was coming to an end soon? One more chapter and an epilogue left. Oops. xD

Also the writer mentioned here is fictional haha.

Also, if you want me to add you to the series taglist, just drop a note or comment! ^^

Word count: 2970

Series Masterlist

13 | 14 | 15

The script (y/n) was supposed to write was based off a series of three books, written by a writer who wasn’t too popular. As a matter of fact, (y/n) hadn’t ever heard of this writer—Theodore McLarsen, a strange name for a rather unheard of writer. When Harrison presented her with the books the next day, her heart leapt—it was finally and actually happening. For a moment, when he told her that she had to write a script for a show that Harrison was going to star in, it felt like a dream; a dream based off a conversation she had with Harrison. She called him that night and asked him repeatedly if he was just doing this to cheer her up. Harrison laughed and denied everything.

“Wouldn’t this make you feel worse?” He asked, chuckling, over call.

“I don’t know, the thought of it itself so...comforting.” (y/n) said, bashfully.

“Look, (y/n),” Harrison’s tone turned serious. “Tom suggested your name because he knows you’re good. I won’t lie to you and he won’t appreciate me telling you this but he has read every single one of your reviews. He’s not saying that you’re going to write an awesome script without having any idea that you might. This is not a ‘might’ or ‘may’ situation, Tom’s sure. And you know what? So am I. I’ve spoken to you, I’ve heard your opinions, you’re a brilliant writer, you just don’t know it yourself. Stop doubting yourself, love. All of this had to happen so that you could get here. I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this but hear me out,”

(y/n)’s heart leapt. “I am so proud of everything you’ve done and how far you’ve come.”

She would have broken down after what Harrison said, but she felt thankful. She didn’t want to cry, she wanted to show Harrison and Tom that they had faith in the right person.

“Thank you, Haz. Thank you so much.”

“Don’t thank me, thank the man you’re in love with.”

She knew from the tone that he was teasing. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“What kind of friend would I be if I did?”

(y/n) laughed, blushing.

“When do you plan on telling my mate that you love him?”

“Haz, I… I don’t think I will.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“You heard me. He’s… He’s an actor! And I’m just—”

“Please don’t give me this cliche he’s rich and I’m in rags tale, please. (y/n), for the love of life, can’t you see Tom feels the same?”

(y/n) froze. There was no way. Sure, they almost kissed but that was perhaps because she was feeling low and it was directed from her end.

Or was it?

“Harrison—”

“It’s not my thing to let you know, love. Talk to Tom. But, if you tell me that you can’t tell him how you feel because he’s an actor, that’s not fair to him or to you. More so for him because if you’re in love with him, he deserves to know.”

Harrison was right. It was always the case—we always held the right to withhold our feelings from someone, but there was also another point of view. If you loved someone for who they are, for being their cheerful self, then you love them for them; and this meant that they deserved to know that they were loved. The reason we hold back from letting the person know is because there’s a lot of expectations preventing us from making a move. (y/n) told herself that she held no such expectation, but the thing about expectations was this: it’s the trickiest thing about being human. You had them, and you’d never know until someone lets them down.

“Haz…” She didn’t have to tell him anything. Harrison knew his words had gone through.

“Go at your own pace, (y/n). But, I’d advise you to tell him. He won’t know from me, you can trust me.”

“Thank you. I’ll get to reading the books now.” (y/n) said, a happier smile rising on her face.

“Good. Make me look good.”

(y/n) rolled her eyes. “You’re such a div.”

That afternoon, the director gave her a call. He wanted to speak to Tom and Harrison’s recommendation for a script writer himself, and was pleased that it was a woman who was writing.

“Thank you for accepting in such short notice, though. Miss (l/n).”

“No, please. Call me (y/n).” She said, rather confidently.

“If I might ask, are you the critic who wrote the scandalous review for Birds of a Feather?”

It was like she did a turn at 180. Thinking back, if she hadn’t written that review, she wouldn’t be here, writing a script or attempting to. Meeting Tom and Harrison, befriending them, and now here—it was all possible because of that one review, the couple of weeks that turned her life upside down. Looking back, for some strange reason, she felt at ease; everything seemed to be falling into place, everything played a role in getting her here. Everything except Susannah.

“Miss?”

“I’m so sorry, yes. Yes. I wrote the review.” She said.

“Good thing you did too, someone needed to tell Jean that he was messing things up. The fame gets to ‘im in the end, it’s sad.” The director grumbled.

(y/n) smiled. “Do you want a writing sample to evaluate—”

“(y/n), of course not. There are writing samples of yours all over the internet. I like you and I want you to write the episodes. I’m sure you’ll do a great job.”

She counted the number of times she’d have to thank Tom for this. He wasn’t even here and he was changing her life, it was strange—this feeling that led her to believe she had known him all her life, it was a feeling that gave her a sense of familiarity with Tom that she didn’t share with anyone else. Just as the call ended, she breathed, before her eyes glanced over to the books on the table. She had just started reading them, feeling a tad bit ashamed for not knowing the writer before this, but was fully intending to make the most out of this experience.

This was the first time she was reading for a job and was not criticising the work. It felt odd, but familiar, familiar from the years and years of hidden desires that wanted her to do this instead of criticize.

Picking up the book, (y/n) sat down, turning page after page, reacting to each and every line like a regular reader would, picturing the character as Harrison, learning the narrative, visualizing it, creating it in her head. She didn’t realize that hours flew by like seconds, she was transported to a world where only she existed and she wasn’t reading; she was watching it, with her eyes and mind, the sounds within capturing her attention like a bird’s near water. This was what she was meant to do, this finally made sense.

It took her five hours to finish the first book; and seven hours after to finish the second. It felt to her on several occasions that the writer was writing this for her, the writer was grasping her hand and leading her to a spot, letting her know that she wasn’t the only one who felt the confusion that the protagonist feels, there were other characters in the book who were developed perfectly, a touch of mystery, sorrow where it needed to be, and this made the happy moments all the more meaningful.

Harrison would be perfect for this, she thought, wiping the tears off her eyes. She found herself typing a message for Tom, a long thank you message, revealing to him that she had finished reading the books and would start writing the script after a quick walk outside. London seemed welcoming in terms of its weather that day, and she wanted to make the most of it. It was a lazy Saturday morning, close to 11:30, and (y/n) had never felt as fresh.

Just as she sent the message and headed near the door, she heard a message beep. She stopped in her tracks and checked her own phone, but no message had come. She had just sent Tom a message, and just as the message was delivered, she heard the beep. She sent him another, a mere “Tom?” and she heard the beep again, gasping, as she stood in front of her door.

Her hands shook as she reached forward to the door knob, opening the door slowly, and revealing him standing there, awkwardly.

It felt like deja vu.

“Hi.” He said, pressing his lips together, and then breaking into a smile.

She felt like she would faint at that second if Tom hadn’t held her. She wanted to ask him a thousand things, she wanted to tell him she loved him, she wanted to tell him that she’s happier now, that the bad days are over and that he didn’t have to worry, but with that one hug, Tom learned everything.

Pulling away, Tom stared at her, before noticing she was fully dressed.

“Are you… Are you heading out?” He asked, his voice low.

She shook her head, “I was going to take a walk—”

“I know this nice coffee shop.” Tom suggested, grinning cheekily.

(y/n) chuckled, feeling a tad bit nostalgic. “Let’s go to this nice coffee shop then.”

And she felt at home when Tom took her hand in his.

Just as they reached the coffee shop, the waitress froze. She looked at Tom, who was not covered in any disguise, which confused (y/n) (who tried taking her hand out of his grasp several times in order to avoid being caught, but Tom didn’t let go). Tom smiled widely at the waitress, almost as if they were long lost friends, and suggested she’d take them both to a table, away from the crowd. She nodded meekly, poor thing, and led them to the very same table they sat at, all those months ago.

“You said—”

“Ma’am, can you bring us a caramel latte, and an americano with no sugar, please?” Tom asked, politely.

(y/n)’s heart skipped a beat.

“Tom,” She brought his attention toward her this time, his eyes falling on her, as he gazed at her like every girl wanted to be gazed at. “You said two months?”

“I know. Shoot ended early. Thought I’d surprise you.” He said, reaching forward for her hand.

She blushed, “Tom—”

“I have missed you.” He said, looking at her hand. “So much.”

“Tom, I’ve missed you.”

He looked at her now, and she knew where this conversation was going. She knew it in her heart that she could not stop it, she had no strength to stop it, neither did she want to. She turned her hand to the back of her palm and entwined his fingers with hers; the least she could do now was welcome it, with wide open arms, as she drank her black coffee.

“I’ve fought with myself for a while for this. I tried to resist it initially, because well, of who I am and I thought that everything an actor needed to do had to be this huge, extravagant thing—and that was pressuring me to lose sight of this, of this wonderful could-have-been. Everywhere I’ve gone, it was ‘Oh my god, it’s Tom Holland’ or ‘Bring it together for Tom Holland’ or something similar with a strangely massive amount of excitement, and it never was a simple wave of the hand and a hello or a hi with a smile I wanted to see on a face I wanted to be around. It has always been extravagant around me and I never, up until now, realized how much I missed the ordinary.”

(y/n) felt her heart sting at his words. She’d guessed it was hard being famous, but here was Tom Holland, more than famous. He had reached a point where he couldn’t even un-famous himself. Even if he tried.

“We think ordinary is never enough, but God do I want it.” He squeezed her hand in his, and then looked at her. She smiled at him, her eyes turning small at the corners.

Tom’s heart leapt. It’s the Emilia Clarke smile, he thought, No, it’s the (y/n) (l/n) smile.

“Some part of me wants to ruin this for you.” (y/n) whispered, chuckling.

“Oh? How could you possibly—”

“I love you so much, Tom Holland, I cannot believe I am actually saying this.”

Tom’s eyes widened, and he almost choked on air. Coughing a couple of times, he noticed from the corner of his eye how she was chuckling.

“You’re right. This spoiled everything.” She laughed more.

“I thought you were out of my league but—”

“You’re seriously stupid sometimes, you know that?” He scolded her, his face a dark red.

She observed as he tried to fan himself, shuffling around in his seat. She wanted to ask him if he was okay, but she enjoyed the scene.

“Um, do you want something to eat? It’s suddenly very, very hot in here.”

“The air conditioning is just fine, though.”

“I’m sweating.”

“Have you never been confessed to before?”

Tom was quiet now, not meeting her gaze.

“Thomas Stanley Holland.” She said his name, struggling not to laugh.

“You know my whole name.” Tom couldn’t hide his wide shy smile.

“You’re blushing ridiculously! Oh my God. It’s like High School—”

“Thousands of girls I’ve never met in my life have told me they love me. Not to mention the thirst tweets—”

“That doesn’t count.” (y/n) said, giggling.

“(y/n),” Tom turned to her, his face still read. She watched, and wondered if he’d actually say it. A moment later, he turned away, and covered his face in his hands, groaning.

“You ruined it—”

“Tom, I’m in love with you.”

“That’s not helping!”

(y/n) laughed, knowing his answer.

She took him to her house after the strange confession. Tom wasn’t even holding her hand, avoided talking to her, but his face was continuously red and he coughed at random moments. Simply to test if her suspicions were right, she grabbed his hand, causing him to jump, and felt how sweaty his palms were.

“Ew.” She muttered.

Tom rubbed his hands on his jeans and coughed some more. Once they reached her house, (y/n) took off her jacket and continued to tease him. She placed her jacket on the stand and giggled to herself, talking about how shy Tom was and how flustered he had become.

“It’s cute, though. I mean, I never took you for someone who—”

A moment later, time froze. Tom’s hands reached her face, his palm on either of her cheeks, and pressed his mouth to hers. Tom kissed her so deeply that for a moment, (y/n) didn't know who was breathing for who, but his mouth and tongue tasted like warm honey. (y/n) didn't know how long it lasted, but when he let go of her, she found that she was missing it already.

“Who’s flustered now?” He asked, whispering.

Her face was a cherry pink now. Tom smiled, before letting out a slow breath.

“Haz was right. You don’t need to know someone to like them. And (y/n), all I could do was love you. So I told myself I’d give in to it, to you, without trying to qualify or control anything. I’d surrender. I love you. I love every part of you, every thought and word... the entire complex, fascinating bundle of all the things you are. I want you with ten different kinds of need at once. I love all the seasons of you, the way you are now, the thought of how much more beautiful you'll be in the decades to come. I love you for being the answer to every question my heart could ask.”

And it seemed so easy, he thought. It seemed natural and right.

“And you’re a fool to think you were out of my league, when from the start it had always been you.”

It was too strong a moment. Tom just simply continued to look at (y/n), whose eyes were glued to his form. She reached forward and touched his face, smiling warmly at him.

He moved instinctively. (y/n)’s lips were soft against his, and a warmth enveloped him in a way he could not explain. He kissed her and the world fell away. It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. His hand rested below her ear, his thumb caressing her cheek as their breaths mingled. He ran his fingers down her spine, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them and she could feel the beating of his heart against her chest.

The kiss obliterated every thought. For the first time in forever, Tom’s mind was locked into the present. There was no worry about fame, or the press, or saying the right thing or bad publicity. The worries of the day evaporated like a dew drop before the morning sun. His usual mode of hurrying from one thing to the next, constantly thinking about what could go wrong, his anxiety, his stress were all suspended, he had no wish for the kiss to end. Drunk on endorphins, his only desire was to touch her, to move his hands under her smooth summer layers and feel her perfect softness.

Within nanoseconds, the soft caress has become more firm, he savoured her lips and the quickening of her breath that matched his own. A kiss like this was a beginning, a promise of much more to come.

Love.

It didn’t feel scary at all.

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justforbooks · 5 years

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"Led Zeppelin The Forum June 3, 1973

This is based on the fantastic AUD recording, expertly transferred from the JEMS Master - DAT (16/32) source. This is a wonderful audience source, documenting an incredible show.

Some feel this is Led Zeppelin's best performance of the 1973 North American tour.

Hey guys, if you're interested in imagining what it was like to be at this show, I highly encourage you to check out this post by Strider on the Led Zeppelin forum. It is easily the best account of a Zeppelin show I have ever read.

Let's get on the time machine...

Sunday June 3, 1973

I'm flying home from San Francisco to Orange County...a little wobbly after my Kezar Stadium trip, but feeling better the more fluids I drink and the closer I realize I am getting to the appointed hour of my third Led Zeppelin concert in four days.

This Led Zeppelin concert is a little different, however. Not only is this the last show of the first leg of the 1973 US tour, but the last LA show...and who knew when the next tour would be, so this would have to get me through whatever dry spell awaited. Most important of all...I was taking my girlfriend to the show; not only her first Led Zeppelin concert, but her first concert period. That I wanted her to enjoy it was an understatement.

My girlfriend's name was Trudy. She was slightly older than me...11 going on 12...while I wouldn't turn 11 until the next month in July. We met when we were on the same community rec swim team the summer of 72. She also liked baseball and played on the girl's softball team until it became too painful for her(this was before the days of high-tech sports bras). A tomboy, she was like Tatum O'Neal with boobs. Our first date was to an Angel game to see Nolan Ryan pitch.

*Quick digression: baseball games make wonderful first dates. It's not as crowded or noisy as football, basketball, hockey or auto races. And the leisurely pace allows for plenty of conversation time to get to know each other. And if you're lucky to get picked for the "Kiss-Cam", that gives you an excuse for a quick kiss.

Back to Trudy...she was great, except when I met her, her musical tastes ran to America, Bread and Seals & Crofts...the hardest band she liked was Three Dog Night. So it was a long process to get her to like Led Zeppelin, David Bowie, the Stones, Alice Cooper and my other faves. Some she never took to(Frank Zappa, Velvet Underground), but after a few months she finally got hooked into Zeppelin. Of course, it was mainly the softer stuff she liked...Stairway to Heaven, What Is and What Could Never Be, That's the Way. Thank You was her favourite LZ song. And when Houses of the Holy came out, she immediately fell in love with Rain Song. But little by little she came to appreciate the hard rocking songs as well.

All this was on my mind as I rested on the plane-ride home. You see, before I saw Led Zeppelin for the first time in 1972, I had NO IDEA what to expect from a Led Zeppelin concert. I had all four studio albums released at that time, but had yet to acquire any bootlegs. So yes, the effect was fairly shattering when finally seeing my first Zeppelin concert, June 25, 1972. By the time of the 1973 shows though, I had bought two Led Zeppelin bootleg double-albums: Live on Blueberry Hill, the September 4, 1970 Forum show; and Going to California, the Sept. 14 1971 Berkeley show, mislabeled as being at the Forum.

Those two boots, plus the memories of the 1972 shows, instilled in me the idea that the acoustic set was a regular part of a Led Zeppelin concert, and I raved to Trudy about the acoustic set...how they did Going to California and That's the Way, two of her faves. But now I had seen 2 of the 73 concerts, and neither one featured an acoustic set, not even one acoustic song...there didn't appear to be an acoustic guitar in the building. They had played Rain Song, so I knew Trudy would love that, but after building it up in her head, I was worried she would be disappointed if she didn't get an acoustic set. Perhaps, they were saving it for this last concert of the first leg...a special treat for LA. That was one fortunate outcome of Jimmy Page's finger injury: not only was Trudy now able to see the concert, but by moving the concert to June 3, my last Zeppelin memory of 1973 would be crystal clear, unlike the hazy one I had of the Kezar Stadium debauchery.

Shortly after 5pm, the plane descended into Orange County airspace, glistening swimming pools dotting the landscape, the brown smog bank of the Inland Empire off in the distance. There they were, my BB and Trudy, my sun-dappled girl, waiting for me as arranged. To save time, I gave him Trudy's address so he could pick her up before meeting me at the airport. Then we could just drive straight up the 405 to the LA Forum. So, after a brief wait for my luggage, there the three of us were in my BB's blue 1969 Chevy Malibu, him driving, and Trudy and I in the backseat. Making the long slog north on the 405, joining thousands of others making the drive from San Diego back to Los Angeles, I filled Trudy and the BB in on my San Francisco trip, not exactly revealing EVERYTHING. Trudy wasn't a party-stoner girl, and I didn't want her to get the wrong idea about me. The BB and I answered questions she had about the concert; she was excited when I told her that it was pretty certain that they would play Rain Song. But I also said that they hadn't played Thank You, and she looked bummed about that...but hey, I said, you never know what they'll play for sure. Maybe tonight they'll play it.

A quick pit stop for gas and a bite to eat at Tijuana Taco(don't ask...just slightly better than Taco Bell...they shut down later in the 70's when employees were caught selling drugs thru the drive-thru window), and we were back on the 405, past the Westminster Mall, past Seal Beach then Long Beach, until nearing LAX airport, and the giant Randy's Donut Donut marking the Manchester Blvd. exit. It must have been around 7pm, as we drove east on Manchester, past La Brea and Market, past the A-Frame International House of Pancakes on the left at Hillcrest, past the usual shady characters holding up "Need tickets" signs. This time we turned right on Prairie, then left into the Forum parking lot, the Forum Club awning up ahead. It was still plenty light outside, a pleasant June evening, and as usual for a rock concert, the parking lot was a bazaar of the bizarre. A panoply of colourful types everywhere you looked.

Thanks to my uncle's wife washing my clothes while sleeping off my trip in San Francisco, I was wearing my burgundy velvet hip-hugger bell-bottoms and yellow 1973 Zeppelin tour shirt. But I saw a bootleg parking lot shirt I liked and bought one for me and Trudy...total cost $4.

There was a long line to get in the Forum, so we headed to one of the special entrances for people with floor seats. Yeah, I had almost forgotten...after 4 previous Led Zeppelin concerts spent in loge or bleacher seating, I was finally going to be near the stage, 13 rows from the front, on the floor, looking at the stage head on. No side or obstructed views this time. I was already stoked...this sudden realization of where we would be sitting further stoked my fire. So eager with anticipation we fairly glided through the narrow tunnel into the Forum floor, past the massive soundboard/mixing desk towards the rear and past the rear sections of the floor, approaching the stage closer and closer until we came to our destination: Section B, Row 13. It did feel weird looking at our tickets and seeing the date May 30. The time once again said 8:00 pm...but we told Trudy that was more a "suggested" time than a firm commitment.

That allowed for plenty of time for concert prep...last-minute bathroom visits, stock up on snacks and coke and back to our seats with plenty of time to watch the roadies fine-tune the stage as the Doobie Brothers and Yes played over the sound system. Although the music wasn't nearly as loud as the concert would be, I gave Trudy the earplugs the BB had brought for her, as we didn't want her first concert to be too painful...I mean, Led Zeppelin were LOUD...VERY LOUD!

Being so close to the stage, you notice details you can't see from far away...the details of the amp setups...Jimmy's simple effects setup...Jones' keyboards and the white mellotron...Bonzo's orange Ludwig vistalites. In fact, I noticed that if you took away the gong and tympani, his drum kit was actually quite small compared to the gargantuan kits of Carl Palmer, Keith Moon and Ginger Baker. Just a bass drum, snare, one rack tom and two floor toms, that's it. Yet, in Bonham's talented hands, that kit sounded more MASSIVE than Carl, Keith and Ginger's kits combined.

Ooooh, there was the big mirror ball high above Bonzo's kit...I pointed it out to Trudy. She also noticed with some trepidation and awe the huge PA speaker stacks...courtesy of Showco. As roadies climbed roped rigging ladders to fix the various spotlights and whatnot, I sensed a different vibe in the Forum tonight from the Bonzo Birthday Party show. Yes, the audience for that show was excited...it was the first night and it was Bonzo's birthday, so we were hyped. But as shouts of "Led Zeppelin!" and "Rock and Roll!" and "Whole Lotta Love!" echoed around the arena, as frisbees and beach balls whizzed and bounced around, the anticipation and buzz of the audience seemed torqued to a higher degree. With the benefit of hindsight, I think I know why. First, the June 3 show was originally supposed to be the first show...and anyone who has been to multinight stands knows that the first night crowd often has the hard core fans. We were the "real" first night crowd, not the May 31 crowd. Second, that May 31 show was so amazing that obviously word-of-mouth spread. Folks heard how awesome the May 31 concert was, so everyone was at fever pitch for tonight's gig...both the people who were there May 31 and were expecting more of the same, and those who just heard about it and couldn't wait to experience it themselves. If you've ever been to a concert by your favourite band, you know the feelings you go through right before the band comes on: the butterflies in your stomach, the calculations in your mind at what the first song will be and what the setlist will entail. How you literally cannot breathe from excitement.

Well, take all that and multiply by 10 and you'll get an idea how feverish the crowd was for this Led

Zeppelin concert was...if someone had thrown raw meat into the crowd, it would have been devoured. Hell, I feared if one of the roadies had fallen into the crowd, he'd be torn limb from limb. The beast was getting hungry...we wanted Zeppelin. At any bit of lull from the sound system, any break from the music, a great hue and cry went up from the throng in anticipation of the band coming on stage. At long last however, after several false moments, sometime around 9ish, the Forum went dark as the house lights went down.

CUE PANDEMONIUM!!! I am serious. Sure, every Zeppelin concert I attended the crowd would greet the band loudly, as loud as any concerts I have seen. But the concert of June 3, 1973 was something else entirely...it was like RAPTURE! People stomping their feet, ecstatically screaming, firecrackers exploding...the only other time I experienced this frenzied a response was the June 21, 1977 show.

In the dark, periodically illuminated by flashes and lit lighters, we could make out the shapes of the band members making their way on stage. As the stomping and hollering from the crowd continued, Bonham gave a quick test of the drums and soon after, the Little Richard-tribute drum intro to Rock and Roll commenced the beginning of the show as the stage exploded to brightness as the stage lights came on the same time as the band kicked into the main riff of Rock and Roll.

Oh shit Dorothy, we're not in Kansas anymore. Being on the floor is a completely different deal. The loudness is even more LOUD...IN YOUR FACE...AND IN YOUR GUT!!! Especially Bonzo's kick drum and Jonesey's bass. I looked over at Trudy and thanked my lucky stars we had thought of bringing earplugs for Trudy...she had been gripping my hand since the Forum lights went down, but as I looked at her she smiled and signaled she was okay. Her eyes widened as she took in the scene in front of us, and I returned my gaze to the stage. From behind the kit, Bonzo looked like he was wearing the same pastel tanktop, or wifebeater, as before. John Paul Jones was wearing some multicoloured button-down shiny shirt with these fantastic flash silver bell bottoms. Simply extraordinary...he should've worn them for the MSG shows! Unfortunately, being close to the stage allowed me to see Jones' mustache more clearly...he just didn't look right with that mustache. Jimmy Page was wearing the same natty white double-breasted suit as he did at Kezar. With the black and white shoes. His hair looked healthy and fluffy, the coloured lights giving it different hued highlights throughout the night.

Then, there was Robert Plant. Golden God. Golden, flaxen hair flowing down past his shoulders, the lights amplifying the golden hue of his curly locks. Long, lean and tanned body encased in skintight flared blue jeans and a pinkish-red shirt, more masculine than his usual 1973 blousey-type tops, but with just enough femininity to give Plant that otherworldly, ethereal sexual charisma he, and only he among the 70's frontmen, had. No, not even David Bowie or Freddie Mercury had it...David was too drugged out and sickly thin and Freddie too campy with his "Al Pacino in Cruising" look. To top it off, Robert had a red flower(a rose?) stuffed down his pants, so that the flower was just over his belt buckle.

And because we were now looking straight ahead and up at the stage, and not down from afar as before at other shows, the band, particularly Jimmy and Robert since they were closest to the front, appeared 10 feet tall. Like they truly were gods descended from Mount Olympus to bestow upon us mere mortals their immortal musical alchemy. As Rock and Roll progressed, with Jimmy doing his signature Rock and Roll stagger step, Trudy and I were hopping up and down on our seats, standing on our seats the only way we could see over the grownups in front of us. After the guitar solo, when Jimmy did his little leap, Trudy and I jumped as well, as various girls around us squealed. That's another thing I noticed being down front...lots of teenage flesh in hotpants and platforms. But let's get back to the music...

Rock and Roll was at it's end, Bonham flailing away like Animal of the Muppets during the final drum flurry, which leads to the rousing fanfare into Jimmy's solo intro to Celebration Day, notes flashing fast and furious from his vintage Les Paul. THIS was one of the moments I was already anticipating, for the previous 2 Zeppelin concerts had proven how great, and underrated, a song Celebration Day was in concert.

Tonight was no different...as Jimmy's opening guitar shot rapid fire notes, and Robert intones the opening lines, the song builds to that slight hesitation as Robert sings "and she wonders pretty soon everybody's gonna KNOWWWW" and then Bonzo, Jones and Jimmy SLAM into the song in total force, and the impact is UN-FUCKING-REAL!!!

Try to picture this in your mind...Bonzo and Jones are laying down this MASSIVE volcanically-erupting groove, Jonesy's bass inhabiting your bones, while Bonzo's drums wallop your guts, all the while he's staring intently at Jimmy, his mouth popping open from time to time like he's chewing gum and his head jerking with each accent of the beat. Meanwhile, Jimmy is slinking around the stage, guitar slung low, while carving out that ridiculously sexy funky Celebration Day riff. It's not that there's anything wrong with Rock and Roll, although even then it sounded slower in concert than on record, with Robert's vocals not as manic as the studio version, but Celebration Day, for me, is when the enormity of the concert hit me. The song seemed faster and more high energy than Rock and Roll.

And it was somewhere during Celebration Day that I lost it. How can I explain it to you? There isn't a bootleg in the world that can replicate the sound, the experience. Jimmy's guitar is sounding like 100 chainsaws carving that riff into your head...the bass and drums are exploding into your spine causing you to spontaneously jerk and dance about. The overwhelming loudness of the sound envelops you, harmonic overtones, that no bootleg can pick up, merging to create new tones and notes, raising the hair on your arms and sending tingles up and down your spine. On top of the the force of the groove and the sound, is the visual impact of Robert and Jimmy swaggering, thrusting, dancing across the stage...their movements somtimes in tandem, sometimes on their own, yet still strangely in sympatico with each other; the yin and yang. As Robert's voice, by now warmed up from the rough Rock and Roll opening, wails over the musical onslaught, and Jimmy's guitar cuts like a knife sharper than Bryan Adams will ever know, Jimmy struts to the front of the stage and I half expect him to just keep walking off the stage into the air above us. That is when I just erupt in tears of joy. I couldn't help it...I'm with my girlfriend and the band is sounding so good and they are fucking rocking the stage like they OWN IT! None of this tentative squirreling about like some bands. And Celebration Day is KICKING SO MUCH ASS! I tell you, I was in a state of happiness, of TOTAL BLISS, that the waterworks just flowed and flowed. I hugged Trudy and gave my BB a high-five as CD came to an end much too soon...they could have kept that groove going for another 10 minutes as far as I was concerned. And they should have made Celebration Day a permanent part of the setlist from 1971 on, I'm my opinion.

No time for dillydallying, Jimmy immediately slides into the Bring It On Home riff after CD...and Robert promises all the ladies in the house he's going to make them sweat and groove, as the band lurches into the serpentine riff of Black Dog, the third all-out hard rocker in a row to open the show. I always preferred the Bring It On Home riff as an opener to Black Dog to the Out on the Tiles riff, and here's why. With the Bring it riff, the segue to Black Dog seemed smoother. Also, I didn't particularly want to hear the actual song Bring It On Home, by then having grown bored with the early blues covers like Bring It and You Shook Me, so I liked when they shifted into Black Dog. But Out on the Tiles is one of my favourite songs, especially after hearing it on the Live on Blueberry Hill bootleg. So everytime they would play that opening riff to Out on the Tiles, I would get excited they were going to play the whole song. So I actually would feel a twinge of disappointment when they would go into Black Dog instead. C'mon guys, just ONCE gimme Out on the Tiles!

Black Dog swaggers to a close, Jimmy bringing the song to an end with a blazing run, and just like that, the opening three song assault is over, and us fans have a chance to cheer and welcome the band back to LA, as Robert says good evening and goes into one of his plantations, none of which I recall. It's funny, but even more so than in the stands, people down front yell all sorts of stuff at the band, thinking they're so close the band will hear them and respond. Greetings, requests...some musical, some sexual...non sequiters, all manner of nonsense is shouted at the band as a whole and at individual members; Jimmy and Robert topping the list, natch.

Another thing you notice up front is all the stuff that gets thrown on stage that the roadies periodically have to clear off. Joints, wadded balls of paper(notes, I presume), cards, flowers, candy, popcorn, items of clothing(some intimate)...it's quite a sight and probably quite a haul by the end of the night. Fortunately, Trudy refrained from throwing any clothing.

Jimmy took this time to remove his jacket, revealing an orange-red striped button-down shirt with black cuffs that I don't think I've seen him wear before...or since. In fact, both Jimmy and Robert are wearing shirts that I've hardly seen pop up in photographs other than in photos of tonight's gig.

With jacket removed, and Robert's introduction over, the folky beginning of Over the Hills and Far Away begins, as Jimmy's sweet cherry red Les Paul tone lulls you into a state of mellowness, as Robert sings to his lady...then WHAM! The volume increases ten-fold, and again, one of those ingenious simple-sounding yet complex riffs grabs hold of you, while Bonzo lays down a beat that at first seems at odds with the riff, but gradually reveals itself to be a marvel of deep-in-the-pocket groove. In fact, OTHAFA is one of those songs that was fun to watch the band play in concert. Jimmy hunched over, jerking his body to the riff, while Bonzo and Jones watched each other, working over the changes as Jimmy solo'd stratospherically over the top. Robert by now would throw in his Acapulco Gold aside to knowing looks and laughs among the stoners in the audience.

After the song drew to its languorous close, Jimmy bathed in deep blue light, I checked with Trudy to make sure she was okay...that it wasn't too loud or if she needed to rest. Before the concert, we said that we would stay to the end, but if she needed to go to the rest room, I would escort her, and if she got tired, she could sit and if possible, nap in her seat. So far, she was A-OK, thumbs-up, all systems go! Which was fine by me, as we were coming to another highlight of the show for me: the Misty Mountain Hop/Since I've Been Loving You tandem, signaled by Jones removing his bass and walking over to our left and sitting down at his keyboards, face-forward to the crowd, while Jimmy switched from the red Les Paul w/ black pickups to his customary Les Paul Sunburst.

Hippie funk-groove, followed by the sweeping, cinematic English blues drama of SIBLY. As the band charged into Misty Mountain Hop, the vibe of the show kept elevating...so many people dancing and smiling and having a goodtime. Apparently enpugh people in the crowd had experienced getting hassled by the cops over rolling papers to the point that the entire Forum wanted to escape to the Misty Mountains. Once again, the sound is massive, as Jimmy Page's guitar is in your face. Robert is doing all his hippie dances and wiggles across the stage while Jones' funky Fender Rhodes gives the song its colour. But it is Bonham who really drives the song, his every beat of the drum a mighty wallop, with the most awesome snare sound I've yet to hear...crisp, deep and resonant. Fill after fill with perfect timing electrifies the song until the final riff explodes, as Jimmy hits a switch and the guitar increases 10-fold in intensity and Bonzo does what seems like one continuous, roiling fill until the band reaches the point where it suddenly STOPS!

Leaving Jimmy to bend and sway as his fingers traverse the neck of his guitar, notes flying left and right until he slows into those familar notes that shift the band into Since I've Been Loving You. As the crowd howls in delight, especially the blues fans and guitar players amongst us, many of the crowd also begins to sit down, and Trudy is one of them, so I sit down with her. We still have some of our coke left and as we quench our thirst, I ask how she is liking the show so far. "Too much...it's far out", she replies. I put my arm around her as we settle in our chairs and watch the drama unfolding on stage. SIBLY is one of those moments where Jimmy trancends mere musicianship. He's not merely playing guitar, but making the guitar speak, as if the guitar itself had a soul. Or put another way, it's as if Jimmy and his Les Paul were fused into one, as if the guitar was just another extension of his body.

One thing I noticed with Jimmy Page, especially during SIBLY, is that he adjusted his tone and volume knobs on his guitar more than anybody I'd ever seen. Some guitarists I saw wouldn't touch their knobs once during an entire concert. Whereas Jimmy was constantly fiddling with the knobs, fipping the toggle switch...anything to create the variety of tones and sounds that emanated from his guitar. Considering the simplicity of his effects(compare his stage setup in 1973 to today's array of stompboxes taped down in front of every guitarists stage monitor), it's amazing the wide variety of sounds he got out of his guitar.

Again, just to listen is not enough, nor are pictures sufficient to suggest the total charasmatic effect that Jimmy playing the guitar on stage renders on you. And I fear my words fail to accurately portray the devastating impact of Pagey with a guitar. It goes beyond the way Jimmy moves and dances on stage, which is already beyond compare. Not Keith Richards, not Chuck Berry, not Richie Blackmore, not Mick Ralphs. Certainly not Clapton or Iommi, both of whom stand still as statues, making a guitar grimace once in a while. Pete Townshend is the only contemporary who comes close, and his vibe is more "athletic" with his jumps and windmills. Jimmy's vibe is more sinuous and sexy. His ability to dance and swagger and weave across the stage, while his slender frame is weighed down by some of the heaviest guitars in the business, the solid-body Les Paul and the Gibson doubleneck, is incredible enough. The fact that he often skitters across on one foot is miraculous and warrants comparison to James Brown. You think I'm kidding? Well, I'm not...if only someone would have filmed Jimmy at a 1973 concert, just focusing on his feet, you would be talking about his footwork with awe. To see it up close was breathtaking. But what truly made Jimmy a guitar god and sexually charasmatic to everyone in the arena no matter their sex or sexual orientation was the way he danced with his guitar while his feet were dancing upon the stage. Start with the fact that nobody wore his guitar slung as low as Jimmy. NOBODY. Most guitarists had their guitars strapped pretty high, which is the best position for clean, fast playing: Steve Howe, Richie Blackmore, Frank Zappa, the Grateful Dead guys...all guys who strapped it high. Keith Richards and Pete Townshend had theirs a little lower than that, but still nowhere near as low as Jimmy. And I'm sure Jimmy sacrificed some speed and accuracy having his guitar so low...that can't have been good for his wrist and shoulder. But I'll be damned if in 1973 I could tell for he sure sounded fast and accurate enough to me. And that was while he was doing electric gyrations across the stage. When he deigned to stand still like during Rain Song, he sounded as clean as his studio performances. But Jimmy wasn't built to stand still...he used his body to transmit to the audience every electric charge he was feeling through the music. Every whiplash chord, every sinewy solo, transmuted his body. At any given moment, he would swing his guitar away from his body, or hold it aloft with his right arm extended upwards to form a "V". He would be hunched over dramatically studiously focused on the fretboard, or gracefully arched back, back nearly parallel to the ground, while pulling of a solo. Or there were those tender moments, often during SIBLY, when he would pull the guitar up gently in a nearly vertical position, as if he were cradling a baby or a woman, and coax the most beautiful tones out of his instrument. It was a pas de deux between man and guitar and it was mesmerizing, both aurally and visually, beyond compare.

It was Godhead...sheer and utter GODHEAD! But while I was transfixed by the moans and groans emitting from Jimmy's guitar, my girlfriend Trudy was enraptured by something equally as powerful and potent: Robert Plant. Six feet of tanned, blond, British sex-on-two-legs. For while Page's guitar was emoting its way through SIBLY, so was Plant doing his moaning and groaning, while doing his mic stand parry-and-thrusting...sometimes hanging on and gripping the mic so tightly, you thought he would crush it. As Plant and Page engaged in their signature banter, with each seeking to echo and underscore what the other was doing, until both vocal and guitar lines were intertwined, the slow-burn drama of the song began to build towards that crucial hypnotic part right after the guitar solo. When I turned to look at Trudy, she had a look on her face that suggested she was transfixed. Not exactly a 1000 yard stare, she was keenly focused on Mr. Plant, a broad smile creasing her face until later in the song, she was just frozen in open-mouth wonderment. You know that scene in The Song Remains the Same movie, where that beautiful hooded girl breaks into a smile during SIBLY, overcome by the power of the song? That's what it was like watching Trudy during SIBLY. I can't say if it was the best SIBLY I ever saw...I tend to be partial to the SIBLY's where JPJ uses the Hammond B3 organ. But it was plenty emotional and definitely up there with the best.

Now came the Houses of the Holy trilogy of mood: the gloomy winter of No Quarter; summery surge of The Song Remains the Same; and pastoral spring of the Rain Song.

As Jones remained at the keyboards, the fog rolled in off the stage as Jones sounded the opening notes. It was incredible from this vantage point. It seemed at times as if the whole band would be swallowed up by the bank of fog, the stage lights giving it a haunting glow. I don't see how Jimmy could find his wahwah pedal in all that smoke. Speaking of Jimmy, this is one of those songs from Houses of the Holy that, while sounding perfectly okay on record, took on an extra depth, energy and power in concert. Jimmy's riff especially gained depth in concert. On the record, it's suitably fuzzy and kind of jazzy...but it lacks heft. The riff sounds thi and barely there. But not in concert. Once Jimmy stomps on his Crybaby, the riff CRUSHES your skull and you find yourself alone in the snowy, wintery night, chased by the dogs of doom. The sound of the song is MASSIVE...yet you look on stage, and there's ONLY THREE GUYS making this simultaneously huge, yet subtle and colourfully varied sound. No backing tapes or backup musicians a la the Who or Queen. No other 4-piece (which basically was a trio instrumentally, with a vocalist), could equal Zeppelin's sound in 1973. Black Sabbath? HA! Nice try, but ultimately a one-trick pony, and not helped at all by a shoddy muddy sound system.

To watch Led Zeppelin in concert was to be reminded once again of the mathematical trueism: the sum is greater than the parts. While each member of Led Zeppelin was spectacularly proficient on his individual instrument, it was the spontaneous combustion when they got together, the sum total of their talents, the off-the-charts group chemistry they had that made Led Zeppelin special.

Let's face it...Led Zeppelin was playing the same notes, the same blues scales as many other bands. But their talent and sheer force of personality made it appear to the audience that we were hearing these sounds for the first time. They sounded fresh and new the way Zeppelin played them, while Grand Funk, Deep Purple, Uriah Heap, and Sabbath sounded old and stodgy after awhile.

It was during No Quarter, as the lights turned blue and the band worked into the jam groove, that you noticed another singular element about Led Zeppelin...it wasn't so much notes they played, but colours and emotion. Bands like Emerson Lake and Palmer and Deep Purple would show off their instrumental chops and I wouldn't feel anything other than an overwhelming urge to chop off Keith Emerson's hands or knock Richie Blackmore's scowl off his face. With Zeppelin, their jams created a mood, an emotion tied to the song and to some distant yearning in the listener. Time stopped and you felt transported.

Jimmy remembered the second part of the solo, unlike San Francisco, and it was during the latter part of the song that we got the first taste of Jimmy's Theremin, accenting the howls of the dogs of doom. Followed by Jimmy going crazy on the wahwah. As was usual by now on the 73 tour, the song engendered a standing ovation. Trudy and I, along with most of the crowd, had spent SIBLY and No Quarter sitting down, but now were on our feet roaring. And as Jonesy took his bows, and moved to put his Fender bass back on, and Jimmy strapped on his iconic Gibson EDS-1275 12- and 6-string double-neck guitar...red body with black pickguard, thank you very much...I knew we wouldn't be sitting down soon. For by now I knew it was too early for Stairway to Heaven. Besides, with Jones on bass, that meant it was time for the rush of sound that was The Song Remains the Same.

Robert was doing an introduction to the song, and I believe he mentioned Rolling Stone magazine sarcastically...which I think he also did at Kezar. It seems Rolling Stone compared Led Zeppelin unfavourably to Slade, which when you think about it sounds ludicrous. But then, that's where Rolling Stone's head was at at the time. I mean, Slade had some moments but to put them in the same league as Zeppelin was laughable.

So, 1-2-3-4-GO! And The Song Remains the Same blasts us in the face, Bonzo's galloping beats and JPJ's rubberband-man bouncing bass lines underpinning the chiming bells of Jimmy's 12-string guitar. It's such a warm, beautiful sound...those ringing, chiming bells; what a TONE!

Then again, there's the magical, indescribable sight of skinny Jimmy, huge doubleneck strapped to his thin frame, weaving and bobbing around the stage, somehow managing to avoid crashing into the drums or decapitating Plant with his guitar. The song is so joyous to hear and see performed, that I'm almost moved to tears of joy again. Trudy and I are boogieing on our seats, as is my BB. The smells of cannabis and hash are in the air, but whether it's because I've built up a resistance or what, I don't really feel affected by it. The groove of the song is IMMENSE and INFECTIOUS! And the camaraderie among the band is evident, with Robert, Jimmy, John and Bonzo exchanging winks and smiles like they were the coolest boy's club in the world. Watching them, I want in...I want to play guitar like Jimmy Page and start a band. That becomes fixed in my brain as the state of supreme happiness.

When Robert sings "California sunlight", I cannot help but beam with state pride...California's mentioned in a Led Zeppelin song! I also notice something else...I prefer Robert's vocals on this song in concert than the helium vocals on the record. The Song Remains the Same is hurtling along, pell-mell, taking the crowd along in its frenzy. Shit is flying through the air and we're all just along for the ride. The song at once sounds tight and together and about to come apart at the seams. It's like Bonzo said "alright, everybody go on the count of 3, and meet you at the finish!"

The song comes to its end so quickly that you barely get your breath back before the sweet, lilting sound of Jimmy on the 6-string rings in the opening of Rain Song, as the bright lights dim to blue. FYI, Jimmy looks gorgeously spectral in this light. Now, I knew Rain Song followed TSRTS, but Trudy didn't, so as I knew she liked the song, I couldn't wait to see her reaction when the song began. She gave my hand an extra tight squeeze, and as everybody was sitting down again, as I sat down she sat on my lap and gave me a hug and whispered "thank you" in my ear. Again, Robert's vocals were perfect...so tender and filled with sincere emotion. I know some people think he lost it after 1972, but on some songs he sang better than ever. Immigrant Song might have been beyond his reach at this point, but he nailed all the Houses of the Holy songs.

As Jimmy and Jones, who now was seated at his white Mellotron facing right towards Jimmy and Bonzo, began the langorous instrumental interlude after Robert's opening verses, Trudy turned to me and kissed me deeply...and we kept kissing...and kissing all the way through til when the song gets to the rocking middle part. Everybody who has been to a concert with their significant other has had a moment like that. It's a memory emblazoned on my brain and one I will never forget. Whenever I hear Rain Song, I think back to that kiss.

As Jimmy delicately finger picks the closing arpeggios, and Plant brings the song to a rousing finish with a final wail, we are on our feet again giving the band another well-deserved standing ovation. People, mostly the girls, are shouting endearments to the band, as piercing whistles echo through the arena and bics flicker and glow in the darkness. Jimmy takes a bow and nods to the audience before handing his doubleneck to Raymond, his Scottish guitar roadie. As Robert also acknowledges the crowd, and the multifaceted Jones once again switches instruments, Jimmy rolls up his right sleeve. For now it's time to really get to work.

As Jimmy straps on his trusty Les Paul, Robert gives an introduction about an oldie...then only a single spotlight on Jones as the doomladened notes of his bass sound the beginning of "Dazed and Confused", in 1973 still one of the most anticipated songs of the night. A whoosh of expectation rushes through the crowd, as Jimmy sounds the first opening squeal of his guitar, heralded by a flash of smoke and fire and deep dark red lights. As Jimmy manipulates the sound of his guitar via his wahwah and and bending the strings behind the tuning peg, the mood turns positively evil. Is this the SAME BAND that just moments ago had transported us to a serene English meadow?

Okay, I have to confess I didn't like the way Robert sang Dazed and Confused in 1973...and 75 as well. Too much unnecessary squealing and changing the lyrics. Saying "I wanna make love to you little girl 25...25...25" over and over was annoying. It's a hoary blues cliche. Wished he would've stayed with the original "will your tongue wag so much when I send you the bill".

But the opening verses pass quickly enough, and 1973 is the last year where Jimmy really hits the vibrato during the chorus riff. Now it's on through the new segment developed for 1973, the fast solo and riffing bit leading into the "San Francisco" segment. I looked over at Trudy and she was still hanging in there. The band was cooking until suddenly it stopped and Jimmy shifted gears and began picking out the most beautifully melancholy melody I've ever heard. The genius of this band to just nonchalantly spring into a riff that other bands would kill for. As we all know by now, that riff was later used as part of "Achilles Last Stand", which I suppose is one reason why Dazed was dropped after 1975...although the band could've just dropped the "San Francisco/Woodstock" segment.

But as much as I love "Achilles", I feel that riff was most effective in the live Dazed and Confused's. It

felt more naked and vulnerable...more haunting. As Jimmy played the riff, and Jones and Bonzo figured out when to come in with the beat, Robert sang the lyrics to "San Francisco", the Scott McKenzie song I barely remembered from Monterey Pop. Then as Jimmy leaned on his wahwah and played that phasing sawing riff, Robert added his spectral moans courtesy of his echoplex.

Before you knew it, Jimmy was headed towards his wall of amps, and the moment everybody was looking forward to was at hand...Jimmy had the cello bow in his hand.

At first, as Jimmy applied the heavily rosined bow strings to his guitar, Jones and Bonzo gave light accompaniment, but soon they stopped as the stage darkened with the lights only on Jimmy. Now the bow segment began in earnest, as the most unearthly, loud, resonating howl emerged from the depths of hell. Then, as he began the part where he slaps, or whips the bow against the pickups, and pointing the bow in the direction the sound was reflecting, people began to lose their minds. The lights flashed and changed colour with every slap of the bow...blue, red, yellow, green, orange...as Jimmy pointed left, right, front, back with his bow, bow strings shredding, directing the sound around the arena. Then, the coup des grâce..the lights begin flashing rapidfire as shapes flicker in the background as Jimmy whips his guitar mercilessly, bow strings breaking and flailing everywhere, people in the front row trying to grasp the falling strands. It is one of the most indelible concert moments I've ever seen and heard. By this time Jimmy seemed 10-feet tall, and held complete command of all of us. But he was just beginning.

As he began bowing a spooky, scary-movie motif, I looked at Trudy and saw that she was sitting down, holding her hands over her ears, even with her earplugs already in...this was too much for her to take at her first concert. But like a trouper, she endured it with no complaint, unlike some other girls I took to concerts. One thing people often forget about the bow segment, is that it wasn't just about Jimmy. Depending on how inspired he felt, Robert would also contribute to the sound-orgy by adding his echoplexed melismic moans and howls to Jimmy's bow screeches. With the lightshow getting weirder and weirder, with trippy shapes and shadows projected onto Jimmy Page, the mood of the whole piece attained a level of evil dread that Black Sabbath could only dream of reaching. Every time I saw Black Sabbath, I could never take their attempts to be dark and evil seriously...mainly because Ozzy was such a ridiculous frontman. He was like a hyperactive frog.

As the bow segment reached it's climax, and Jimmy unleashed the hounds of hell, the sound began to drive you mad...you can't imagine how loud and shrill it was. Nor the white noise harmonic overtones that added to the texture of the sound. By now, Jimmy was frantically rubbing his fingers up and down the strings from the neck of his guitar to the pickups, while sawing his bow, with barely any strings left. With his hand rubbing more violently, I feared he was going to slice his hand on the strings. Bonzo joined in the final unholy climax of noise, and as Jimmy threw the bow away, the band got ready to gallop into the marathon jam, with Bonzo, Jones, and Jimmy hitting a few preparatory power chords before launching into the first fast guitar solo section familiar from the album version. From here the song becomes KINETIC personified. Behind the drums, Bonzo is hammering away at a racehorse pace, head snapping at the beat, each strike of the kick drum knocking you for a loop. Meanwhile, Jones is rolling through that endlessly looping bassline at inhuman speed, using just his fingers...NO PICK! Then there's Jimmy, strafing the audience with blitzkrieg runs up and down the neck of his guitar...how his guitar is still in tune after the violent lovemaking he gave it during the bow segment is beyond me. And don't forget Robert...he's not taking a break during this jam, either. Whether engaging in call-and-responses with Jimmy, or boogieing along to the music, Robert was a lion on the prowl.

As the band worked through the different changes, Jimmy, Bonham and Jones watching and listening to each other for the various cues, the incredible stamina of the band hit me with the force of a Bonham beat. Here we were, nearing the 90 minute mark, and while most bands would just be wrapping up their shows by now, Led Zeppelin were just getting started, savagely attacking their instruments with godlike intensity. The Rolling Stones would already be in their limos heading out of the Forum parking lot.

But Led Zeppelin asked no quarter...and they gave no quarter. When you entered a Led Zeppelin concert, you were entering a test of extreme stamina and emotions. Led Zeppelin was body music to the extreme, but it was also music for the head and psyche. After a Zeppelin concert, not only would your body feel pummeled, but your psyche, emotions and senses felt like they'd been put through the wringer. It was total immersion.

The boys were winging their way through the various twists and turns of the Dazed and Confused jam, Jimmy and Bonzo taking delight in prodding each other. My girlfriend had decided to take it all in sitting down...the storm of sound that is Dazed and Confused was a bit much for her. Baby steps I thought to myself...everything in good time. By now, sweat was flying off Jimmy's hair everytime he whipped around. I wouldn't be surprised if the people in the front row got sprinkled with a bit of holy sweat. As Jimmy navigated the twists and turns and dips and dives of the jam, he pulled out all the stops. Electro-stagger steps...laybacks...whirls and twirls...chicken dances. He was everything you want a guitar-hero to be...and his boundless energy was stunning to behold.

1973 was the last year I truly enjoyed Dazed and Confused from start to finish. In 1975, while I liked parts of Dazed, I found the energy of the piece as a whole, flagged at times...sometimes even coming to a complete halt. In 1973, the energy was NON-STOP! Like I said, it was a ocean of sound, a storm of sensory overload battering the senses. A complete contrast, say, to the jam in No Quarter. No Quarter was more a study in the use of space in a jam, Jonesey's piano, Jimmy's guitar, and Bonham's drums working off each other's tangents. Dazed and Confused was more about exploring every riff's possibility for themes and variations. That's why there's enough good riffs in Dazed and Confused to create 6 or 7 new songs.

Then, as if that wasn't enough, as the band comes to the end of the song, where any normal band would hurry to the finish, Led Zeppelin find one last spark of inspiration and take the audience on one last stratospheric jam...Bonzo and Jones engaging in a funky, bouncy round-and-round groove, while Jimmy goes in wahwah hyperspace. Just when you think the song couldn't last any longer, you're engrossed and groovin' to this spacey jam and you think to yourself that you wouldn't mind the jam going on for a while. Several minutes later, Bonzo's flying fists of fury are flailing around his kit at supersonic speed, and 30-some-odd minutes later, Dazed and Confused comes to an end. The band and audience both seem half- euphoric and half-exhausted. Jimmy smilingly accepts the hosannas of the rabid crowd. Again, the intensity and vibe of the crowd tonight seems 10 times the previous shows, which in turn seems to be inspiring the band to greater heights.

More Plantations follow, as Jimmy once again straps on the Gibson doubleneck, and Jones sits again at the Mellotron. I can't remember exactly when during the concert Plant made these remarks, but I know he mentioned Jimmy's hand injury and how he had been soaking it in a bucket of ice-cold water ever since the injury. He also said something to the effect of "you shouldn't be here tonight and we should be in England", in reference to the May 30 show being rescheduled for June 3.

Robert Plant's relaxed remarks and calm control of the stage revealed another reason why Plant was such a singular presence in the 70's. Apart from his sexual charisma and primal rock voice, it was refreshing to have a frontman from England that you could understand when he talked between songs. I couldn't understand half of what Mick Jagger or Ozzy Osbourne were talking about when they bantered between songs. Of course, it didn't help that they were yelling half the time. Which brings me to another plus about Plant...he wasn't a hype-meister who condescended to the crowd. Robert could talk and joke with the crowd with a quiet confidence, a relaxed nature that made a show feel intimate even though there were 18,000 other people in the room. And if he wanted quiet, he wasn't afraid to issue a curt "shut up a tic" to the crowd. Most frontmen so want to be liked that they're afraid of saying anything that would piss off the audience. But the quality I most admired in Robert was his refusal to be a hype-meister and phony. Mick Jagger and Ozzy Osbourne being two examples of the above. Mick and Ozzy found it necessary to constantly harangue the audience to make some noise and go crazy, always yelling, Yelling, YELLING at the audience. It's like they didn't trust the music to excite us, they had to whip us up in a frenzy like they were working a circus sideshow. It became annoying after a while. Sorry Mick and Ozzy, I don't always have to be jumping up and down and waving my hands in the air to have a good time. Sometimes I just want to be still and concentrate on the music. They are like the precursors to today's rap hype-men. Robert trusted Led Zeppelin's music to do the talking. He didn't need to scream the cliché "Are you ready to rock, Cleveland?" or the equally hoary "make some noise!"

Plus, the guy was gorgeous with the most amazing head of hair in rock history. I put it to you that no other rock frontman could have worn those flowery, feminine blouses that Plant wore, and still retain the masculine sexuality that Plant did. And Plant was sly enough, and confident enough in his masculinity, to allow the feminine, androgynous side to shine through, too. He was a sexual beacon for all.

But he wasn't the only one...and that is yet another reason Led Zeppelin had such a devastating impact on people, not just musically but sexually as well. For in addition to the blond Viking god, Robert, you had the yin to his yang, the dark, mysterious, ethereal Jimmy Page.

The next song showed this duality off to terrific effect. As Jimmy played one of the most instantly recognizable song intros ever, his guitar was momentarily drowned out by the huge roar of the crowd. Almost a year and a half since LZ IV's release and Stairway to Heaven had assumed anthem status. The blue lights sparkled off Jimmy's doubleneck, and reflected off the sweat on his face and in his hair. As Robert sang the opening lines, another roar erupted from the crowd, before everyone sat down to take in the song. This is where the band showed their understanding of pacing, as they knew after the half-hour of Dazed and Confused, the crowd would need a respite to regroup before building the audience's excitement back up again to carry over into Moby Dick. Stairway to Heaven was the perfect song choice.

Meanwhile Trudy had recovered from the Dazed and Confused onslaught, and liking Stairway to Heaven, her attention perked up...especially the way Robert Plant was glowing before her. Let me explain. While the majority of the stage was bathed in a cool blue light, golden spotlights shone on Robert from behind. So while his chest glistened with sweat in the mystic blue light, the spotlight behind him gave his hair a giant golden halo effect. I looked over at Trudy and once again, she had THAT LOOK. She had been zapped by the Golden God. And the effect was heightened by the fact that Robert stood mostly still while singing the first few verses of Stairway, so that when Robert looked our way, Trudy could imagine he was singing straight to her. Coupled with Jimmy standing to the side, blue light casting an ethereal shimmer on him, both Robert and Jimmy appeared to be a couple of Sylvan Sylphs, visiting our world to spread a little musical majick.

Bonzo soon added a little earthy reality as he came in with the beat, his snare sounding resoundingly through the Forum. Then, as the stage lights brightened to a white heat, it was time for Jimmy's fanfare, his doubleneck held aloft, vertically upright, fretboards parallel to his body. Then, THE SOLO! By now, it was de rigueur that every Stairway solo was different, which in my opinion, was a lot of pressure for Jimmy to put on himself. I mean, think of the strain and stress of having to come up with a different solo every night. But as I mentioned before, they asked no quarter, they gave no quarter. By the solo, most of us had risen to our feet again, and watched with elation as Jimmy tangoed with his doubleneck one last time for the night, wringing every last bit of emotion from the neck of his guitar. Come the final hard rocking part, and I think Plant stunned a few of us with the intensity of his attack on the final lyrics...he was holding nothing back. This was a band that still played Stairway to Heaven like they MEANT it. Needless to say, Plant's gentle reading of the final line triggered a massive wave of love as lighters were lit and more flowers thrown on stage and waves and waves of cheers descended upon the band as the lights hitting the mirror ball high above the arena threw 1000's of fractured shards of light spinning around the darkened Forum. Another memorable moment.

Now it was time for Bonham's showcase, Moby Dick, and it is a sign of the times that people still cheered a drum solo back then. But Trudy needed a pit stop, and as I had already seen 2 Moby Dick's this tour already(although I only remembered the Forum one), I didn't mind escorting her to the women's restroom and getting her a coke. Apparently we weren't the only ones making a pit stop at that time...as the line for the restrooms and snacks were huge. Judging by the length of the women's line, women have less of a tolerance for drum solos than men. The BB joined us, and while

waiting for Trudy to emerge from the bathroom,

we compared tonight's show so far with Bonzo's

Birthday show the previous Thursday while we hit

the men's room. I thought it was going even better

than Thursday's concert. He wasn't sure. We both

agreed the crowd seemed even more geeked up

than Thursday...more geeked up than any concert

crowd we had seen. FINALLY Trudy emerged from her restroom hell, and we headed to the snack bar line, where BB was already waiting for us, having gone ahead while I waited for Trudy. After nearly 20 minutes or so, we had drained our bladders and gotten some more coke to fill them up again. We were ready for the final stretch of the show..

As we made our way back to our seats, we saw the last bit of Moby Dick, as Robert shouted "John Bonham! John Henry Bonham! 25 years old" while Bonham stood up and tipped his hand to the crowd. Of course, Bonham's drum solo was so loud, that even though we were in line outside, we could still HEAR Bonzo even if we couldn't SEE him.

Meanwhile, there had been a few sartorial changes while Bonzo was making like Animal from the Muppets. Somehow, the red flowers in Plant's pants now were attached to Bonham's drumkit, and Plant had planted new flowers in his crotch. And Jimmy had ditched his sweaty orange-red shirt in exchange for a black zippered windbreaker jacket, with the zipper undone nearly all the way.

Bonham went into the 1973-style intro for Heartbreaker, and as Jimmy's wondrous 1973 tone carved its way like a scythe across the Forum as those buzz-saw riffs strutted like a tiger in heat, the band's intent became clear. It now became clear why the band dumped the acoustic set for the 1973 US tour.

As the 1973 US tour would be their longest and largest yet...more cities, more dates, larger venues...the band probably realized that they would attract a lot of casual and first-time fans on this tour. With the increased focus on Public Relations, there would also be increased media scrutiny. It seems, if you look at the setlist, and the way certain songs were linked together, that the band wanted to streamline their set for maximum impact. No more long gaps tuning up, or setting up acoustic guitars and stools. They kept the marathons the hard core fans loved (Dazed and Confused and Moby Dick), while adding enough of the eclectic and soft material to make up for the loss of the acoustic set(Rain Song, No Quarter, OTHAFA). And look at all the linkages, which cut way down on song intro time, not to mention equipment changes:

1. Rock and Roll>Celebration Day>Black Dog

2. Misty Mountain Hop>Since I've Been Loving You

3. The Song Remains the Same>Rain Song

4. Heartbreaker>Whole Lotta Love

Another consideration that may have led to the dropping of the acoustic set, is the reality that the ability of mics to pick up acoustic guitars in an arena setting with high quality was hit-and-miss in the early 70's. The band might have said let's wait until microphone technology improves before dealing with the hassles of miking acoustic guitars in a humid basketball arena. Just a hunch.

Whatever the reason, the 1973 setlist was a model of pacing and variety delivered for maximum impact.

Right off the bat, three quick all-out hard rockers: R & R, Celebration Day, and Black Dog.

Then, two more rockers that are slightly more eclectic: OTHAFA and Misty Mtn Hop.

Then a long stretch of new songs and old showcasing a variety of moods and tempos and solo showcases: SIBLY, No Quarter, TSRTS, Rain Song, D & C, Stairway, and Moby Dick.

Finally, the ramp back up to high energy rockers to send the crowd out on a high: Heartbreaker, WLL, The Ocean, Communication Breakdown.

Back to Heartbreaker...Bonzo is a friggen' marvel in this song; more than 2 hours of playing and right after completing a huge drum solo that would have exhausted most men, and John Henry is STILL delivering crisp fill after fill and hitting the beat hard. Jimmy is moving and grooving as only he can, and as he tempts and teases us during the wicked guitar solo, leaning out over the lip of the stage as he bends the strings behind the nut, it's hard to believe that he just recently injured his hand. You'd never know it the way Jimmy is blazing on guitar tonight. After I saw the Bonzo Birthday Party concert, I made a mental comparison between that show and the 1972 shows, and for the most part I felt the songs played in 73 were just as good, if not better than the same songs played in 72. The two major exceptions were Heartbreaker and Whole Lotta Love. I thought both those songs were played better in 72 than 73. And while tonight's Heartbreaker was better than May 31, I still didn't like the way it cut off the end to go into Whole

Lotta Love.

Whole Lotta Love started more smoothly than on May 31, more crisp and immediately in the groove. Watching Jimmy take a turn at the backing vocals was always a treat. But the real treat lay ahead during the Theremin segment. 1973 is when the

Theremin segment came into its own. They ditched

the bongo and organ underpinnings from the

past, and finally got down and funky, with Bonham and Jones laying down a mean groove, while Page and Plant did battle with each other. Most of the time they would lead into the Theremin segment with a bit of The Crunge or some James Brown groove. But tonight they dove right into the Theremin segment, with Jones and Bonzo establishing the beat, as Plant asked where that confounding bridge was..."Has anybody seen the bridge?" But the main event occured when Jimmy cranked up his Theremin and Gizmotron, which I think were run through his Orange Amps. In one corner you had Plant at the left, his echoplexed orgasmic moans and cries of love whirling around the Forum as he pirouetted around the mic stand. Then in the right corner stood Jimmy, the Grand Wizard of Sound, directing with his elaborate hand movements bolts of whooshing and whirring sound to do battle with Plants orgiastic wails. It was like a Battle Royale...and once again, another indelible concert memory was imprinted on my psyche. There Jimmy was, hands arcing this way and that as he slid and stalked across the stage, his arms and hands directing the eerie electronic sounds this way and that. Truly remarkable...what a showman Jimmy is.

This theremin duel seemed to last a little longer than most...as if they were having one last bit of fun before the tour break. The crazy sounds were whirling around your head, buzzing your brain while Bonzo and Jones were making everybody get their groove on. After about 5 minutes of delirium, Jimmy cranked his guitar up again and launched into the famous WLL solo. One more verse and chorus and Plant unleashed one of his epic "Wanna whole lotta LOOOOOOOOOVE!"

Now the other night, they only did Boogie Mama, which kind of disappointed me, being used to the 25-minute Whole Lotta Loves with the wacky medleys. So right away I was stoked, as when Plant would normally begin his "Last night" spiel, he instead said "I'm going down", and the band followed suit, Jimmy nailing that staccato riff. YES! This what I wanted...something different and spontaneous. I was holding Trudy's hand and we were swinging our arms back and forth. A couple more verses and a guitar solo, then the band is crunching out the I'm A Man riff, then it's The Hunter...awesome, as this is one of my favourite parts of How Many More Times! Finally the band lets Robert tell us about his mama and his papa, too. This boy's reached the age of 24 and he wants to BOO-BOO-BOO-BOO-BOO-BOO-BOOGIE! When Jimmy starts that Boogie Mama riff, the anticipation and excitement builds until the whole band joins in and the Forum explodes with joy, as the infectious tune has the crowd happy and boogieing. Robert is shaking it one time for Elvis...well, actually he's shaking it a helluva lot more times than once. While Robert is shaking his bum, Jimmy is reeling off solo after solo, as once again the band's energy and stamina is a marvel. Just like that Robert intones "Woman...woman...woman", and we're back to finish Whole Lotta Love. "Waaaaayyyy down insiiiiide..." As Robert heads to the finale, I make sure Trudy can see as I don't want her to miss this...we have our arms around each other. The band hits those two power chords as Plant gathers himself for that epic "LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE!"

Bonham starts his rat-a-tat fill as the lights briefly flash and dim until right at the moment Jimmy comes in with the WLL riff and BLAM BLAM BLAM! Three fireballs explode behind the stage, the heat of the fire warming our faces! Trudy freaks out at the explosions...she wasn't expecting THAT, hahaha. Oh, but there's more pyro to come...as Jimmy plays the wahwah variation of the riff, Bonzo's gong is prepared with the lighter fluid soaked wraps. All hell breaks loose then as Jones and Jimmy are slashing away at their instruments, Plant is howling above the din, and Bonzo bashes away at his Gong of Fire, flames surrounding Bonham as the whole thing becomes a sight-and-sound bonanza, crescendoing deliriously to the finish. The crowd is a sea of madness...we've been whipped into a frenzy and the band hasn't even left the stage before cries of "MORE!" ring out. Now some bands will only wait 30 seconds to a minute before coming back out for the encore. Led Zeppelin is different, natch. They make sure the audience is serious about wanting an encore, making us clap and scream and stomp deliriously for almost 5 minutes before the band makes it's way on stage. There's been more stuff thrown on stage in the interim.

Now, one way the 1973 Oceans were better than the 1972s, was that in 73 you got the Bonham spoken-word intro, which was always a treat. Bonham also sang harmony with Plant on the la la la part. The Ocean is a song for the fans, and the fans eat it up. It's snappy riff and monster beat lends itself to a happy vibe. It's a giant party in the Forum as people are clapping and dancing up a storm! Trudy and I have got our second wind and are dancing as energetically as we were earlier in the night, 2 and a half hours ago. Now, having had the Houses of the Holy album for 2 months, I had already memorized most of the lyrics, so I knew The Ocean by heart. On the May 31 show, I thought perhaps Plant switched lyrics during The Ocean, but I wasn't sure. So tonight as the band played The Ocean, I silently sang along and sure enough, Robert switched the 2nd and 3rd verses! Of course, I was later to discover he had a habit of transposing lyrics to other songs: Kashmir, TSRTS, No Quarter, Sick Again, Trampled Underfoot. The Ocean is such a killer song, though, I didn't really care about Robert's lyrical switch. Once again, as I watched Jimmy uncork another one of his rubberband-leg dances and the obvious relish with which the band was playing the tune, I think this is such a perfect encore song...one for the fans. In hindsight, I wish they hadn't dropped it from the set so quick...it would have made a better encore song in 1975 than Black Dog. Same in 77.

The Ocean is so infectious and sweeps you up into

its party wake so easily that it's over much too

quickly. And just like that the band is off again,

while this crowd is not going to settle for one

encore. I'm still kind of hoping, since this is the last night of the leg, that we'll get a blow-out of the likes of the June 25, 1972 show, with multiple

encores. But as the setlist was exactly the same on

May 31 and June 2, and so far tonight as well, I

wasn't getting my hopes up.

A few more minutes of hooting and hollering and back come the guys for a second encore. I listened to my "Three Days After" bootleg so many times in the 70's and 80's, that I can still recall exactly what Robert said before the starting the song: "This is something we don't seem to have trouble with...". And Jimmy warms up the Les Paul, then rockets into Communication Breakdown, an early precursor to speed metal, and already faster and heavier than Black Sabbath's Paranoid. The song unleashes a flurry of headbanging in the Forum, your humble narrator included. Until after the solo, when the band switches gears effortlessly from metal to funk, as the band extrapolates on the O'Jays "It's Your Thing" groove, with Jimmy weaving an incredible snake-like riff in and around the beat. What a conjurer of riffs...what a snakecharmer Jimmy is!

The band quickly ramps back to finish Communication Breakdown after the funky interlude. And afterwards, I'm expecting the band to take their bows again and say their goodbyes and disappear off stage. But WAIT! They're making no move to leave the stage...are we, the final night's audience, who have already proven to be one of the loudest and intense, going to get a special treat? YOU BETCHA! I have to bite my lip to contain my excitement as Jonesy sits behind his Hammond B3 organ. Robert then says, "We'd like to say something else." Jones then starts playing his organ solo, and I am so beside myself, I'm practically levitating. For while she knew Rain Song would be played, as I told her, I also said they had not played Thank You. But knowing that Jones organ solo lead into Thank You, I began to get goose bumps from excitement. Since Trudy didn't know this, I decided not to tell her so it would be a surprise. As Jones executed a sweet gospel-inflected solo, leading to the final fade into silence, as Jimmy prepared to enter, I was literally bursting. Then came those delicate opening chords to Thank You, before Jones and Bonzo entered and Jimmy cranked the volume on his guitar and the riff exploded as a cheer went up. I looked at Trudy and she looked so happy and so awestruck at the same time...we immediately began to kiss, standing on our seats in the middle of the crowd with the song enveloping us. Now, if you've heard the Three Days After boot, you know that after the initial cheer when Thank You begins, 30 seconds later an even larger cheer occurs. Something obviously happened. But what? That is what people have been asking me for years...and I tell 'em, I don't have a clue. For while that was going on, Trudy and I had locked lips and were holding our bodies tight against each other as we let the warm sound of the song cocoon us. So I don't know what caused that sudden crowd eruption...maybe a stage diver? Someone threw a giant joint on stage? A streaker? Maybe Silver Rider climbed up on stage and gave Jimmy a kiss?

All I know is that once again, I was in a state of absolute bliss, such extreme happiness, that I thoought I was having an out of body experience. Here I was, 11 years old, with a sweet girlfriend, whose tongue was doing loop-de-loos in my mouth...AND I already had 5 LED ZEPPELIN concerts under my belt. I knew that no matter what darkness the future held for me, the memory of this night would sustain me through any tough times.

And it did...and still does to this day.

Frankly, Thank You was a blur that night...was it as good as 72 or earlier versions? I don't know. It sounded pretty good to Trudy and me that night! All I know is that we got to hear one of the last Thank Yous ever...definitely the LAST THANK YOU IN L.A.!

Again, Thank You seemed such a perfect encore song, you wonder why it wasn't played as an encore all the time. Thank You over, we held out hope for another encore, so after the band bowed and said good night and goodbye, we stuck around just in case. But really, how could the band top that...Thank You was the perfect song to go out on.

We waited for the house lights to come up, so we weren't stumbling in the dark. Now it's one thing to leave the Forum from the stands, whereby you exit through the concourse and soon you're outside in the fresh air. But on the floor, once the lights come up, you're hit in the face with the craziness...all around you on the floor are hats, glasses, various shoes, ticket stubs, t-shirts left behind, a tambourine, trash of all shapes and sizes, spilled coke and beer. The detritus left behind at a concert is truly staggering. As we left our seats and headed for the tunnel that led out to the parking lot, I noticed a group of fans lingering at the front of the stage talking to the security guys...perhaps trying to talk their way backstage. Today, people try to get the roadies to hand them a setlist or a stray drumstick, but Zeppelin never used printed setlists.

Walking through the spilled drinks on the floor was one thing, but when we hit the tunnel...PEEUW! As loud shouts of "ZEPPELIN!" and "Fuck Yeah!" and "ROCK AND ROLL!" and "WOO HOO!" sounded through the corridor, the overwhelming stench of stale beer and sweat hit us in the narrow tunnel. What a blessed relief to finally make it outside in the crisp June night air.

After orienting ourselves, we found BB's Chevy Malibu, and joined the line of cars exiting the parking lot. Sure, it's a bit of a wait...but totally worth it. I feel sorry for those that left early to beat the traffic and missed Thank You.

Trudy and I are still in a state of bliss...we fairly floated out of the Forum. In my excited state and the glow of L-O-V-E suffusing me, I declare that that was the best concert I've ever seen. Trudy is too overwhelmed by it all to say much. The BB decides to treat us to a post-show nosh, and we hit the classic A-Frame IHOP down the street from the Forum on Manchester. While Trudy and I peruse the menu, BB makes a call to Trudy's mom to let her know the situation...we're having a post-show meal and then we'll head home. Trudy and I decide to share an order of strawberry pancakes with whip cream. And hot chocolate. They taste pretty good...but then, pretty much all food tastes good after midnight when you've been at a concert all night. Trudy can't wait to tell her friends and sister about the concert...she's finally in a state where she can talk about the show. She thought it was wild and made me promise to take her to see Zeppelin again the next time they played LA. She didn't care for Dazed and Confused though...that was too much for her. She said she literally got scared during the bow segment...it was hurting her ears and freaked her out. The BB said he thought the show was better than May 31, but that the 72 Forum was best overall...he missed the acoustic set.

Our hunger sated, we headed home, south on the 405, Trudy asleep with her head on my lap, as BB drove. I ruminated over all my favourite bands and concerts I had seen...the Stones, Dylan, Beatles, Pink Floyd, Marvin Gaye, David Bowie, Jethro Tull, Black Sabbath, Deep Purple, Yes, ELP, Elvis Presley, Roberta Flack, Joni Mitchell. It was now 1973...ten years from when the Beatles burst on the scene. A full decade. And in 1973, Led Zeppelin seemed to be the supreme summation of all the influences that came before that led to the developing of hard rock and also represent the possibilities for hard rock to transcend its influences and barriers. No other band did what they did...with the variety and power that they did it with. Not that other bands weren't good...the Stones, Floyd, Yes, Jethro Tull...all had something to recommend them. But when I measured them against Led Zeppelin, they all came up short...and I'm not just referring to the length of their concerts.

Seeing Led Zeppelin confirmed to me that while my eclectic taste would allow me to listen to and love a wide range of bands...even bands with no guitars and drum machines...it would always be hard rock, or at least Zeppelin-style hard rock that would be my primary taste. And it would be the electric guitar that represented the sound of rock and roll. And Jimmy Page was THE MAN in 1973, when it came to the electric guitar.

1973 was the year Led Zeppelin ascended Mount Olympus. Houses of the Holy returned them to #1 on the Billboard chart. Their 1973 European and US tours were mega-successful. They broke the Beatles long-standing attendance record and caused hysteria with nearly every concert. Word-of-mouth spread like wildfire. They could even afford to hire their own plane...the Starship. If in 1971, Stairway to Heaven made them superstars, by the end of the 73 tour Led Zeppelin had gone from superstars to rock gods.

In a rare case of the reality not only matching, but exceeding the marketing hype, Led Zeppelin in concert delivered the goods, and then some.

Led Zeppelin: The effect truly was SHATTERING.

Postscript...one of the after-effects of the concert was that Trudy became obsessed with Robert Plant...and with long, blond hair. I didn't have blond hair. Shortly after my birthday, she left me for some surfer with blond locks.

She came back to me two weeks later because he was a lousy kisser.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

#JUST FOR BOOKS

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hisuperb · 6 years

Text

Interview - 2D Star Vol.11

Big thanks to @yukimuzic for the scans. If you were to use and/or repost this page, please ask her first.

Q. It’s Hi!Superb's first appearance in MY★STAR, isn’t it~ First of all, please introduce yourselves.

LEO: Yes, so I’ll go first! I’m Leo! Hi!Superb’s leader, the positive king from Naniwa!

RYO: Wait a minute! Isn’t your rank a bit high?! (lol)

LEO: From now on, instead of positive thinking, I thought I’d go with “positive king“. (lol) Since I’m from Kansai, I’m doing it to make anything look funny! RYO, you’re up next!

RYO: Everyone, it’s a pleasure to meet you! I’m the natural malicious puppy ✰ Hi!Superb’s lively RYO!! There’s no mistake that if you support me, it’ll make you happy forever! I’ll be in your care!!

LEO: That’s a lot of english there! Whatcha say, SION?

SION: (laughs with a gentle smile)

RYO: I thought it’d be okay to say that with feelings (lol). Next! Let’s go, OMI-kun!

OMI: Hello, Hi!Superb’s OMI here.

RYO: .... Eh-, that’s all!?

OMI: Since I’m introducing myself.

LEO: As usual, OMI-chan is so serious~ (lol). But, let's talk a little bit more!

OMI: There are many things that are said to change, but I’m not aware of having any.

RYO: The things I don’t understand are OMI-kun’s good points, I must be a weirdo!

LEO: And now, MAGU-chan!

MAGURA: Yees! Hello, MAGURA here. I’m the youngest, but I’m relied on and depended on a lot.

RYO: Cute MAGU-chan!

MAGURA: I’m not just cute, I also have a manly side, so watch closely, okay? ♪ Next up, SION!

SION: Hello, everyone. I’m SION. I think it was the fans who removed my veil, so take care of me?

Q. About three months have passed since your debut stage, what is the impression you have of each other?

RYO: Hmm. I think OMI-kun’s weirdness has passed the standard definition!

OMI: ......

RYO: OMI-kun, you’re scary, SCARY!

SION: OMI-kun, glaring is no good, haha.

LEO: For example, what kind of things are you referring to?

RYO: Hmm, like, rare moments that make you go “Eh-, at a time like this?!“ For example, recently, after recording, everyone was “Good, let’s go home~“ and as we left the studio he started eating a lunch box (lol). It surprised me, like “Now!? Rirght now!?“

SION: OMI-kun goes at his own pace.

OMI: Well, SION, I think that you have a quite unique personality, though.

SION: Is that so?

LEO: While you talk, you suddenly start yapping in english, give me a break (lol).

SION: So, does having the same strange aura mean that OMI-kun and I are fellows?

OMI: No, it’s totally different. Stop it.

RYO: Here we go again~! The bashful OMI-kun ☆

OMI: Am not. I’m tootally not shy.

Q. You really get along, huh?

LEO: That’s right. Even on stage we talk eagerly. (lol) As you can see from the flow of the conversation just now, OMI-chan has established a unique world.

MAGURA: Even though there are only 10 minutes left until the stand-by, OMI-kun checks the steps by himself.

RYO: Today too, I was wondering where did he run off, but once he came back he was all sweaty (lol). “Huh!? Did you just come back from a sauna!?”, said Leader to poke fun at him. (lol)

MAGURA: Leader’s comedy acts are always running high, haha.

SION: That’s true!

LEO: Huh? Before I knew it, it’s my turn? (lol)

RYO: Even when Leader is the MC, he sets up his silly booby traps! He’s really reliable! OMI-kun and Leader have totally different personalities, but when they’re standing together on stage they show a really reliable side of them; it gets us all fired up and make us want to work hard!

MAGURA: LEO-kun’s leadership is really something. He pulls us together.

RYO: That's not an aggressive sensation, it’s natural. If I were a girl, I would definitely fall for a guy that has Leader’s qualities~!

SION: But if it’s about being natural that we’re talking about, aren’t you also pretty straightforward, RYO-kun?

LEO: His switch is always on after all. Especially the tension when there’s a meal in front of him is remarkable. (lol)

RYO: I like catering, that’s all!!

MAGURA: Indeed, haha. In front of a catering, RYO-kun’s tension is at its MAX. I think it’s really cute when that happens.

RYO: Eh!?

SION: There’s no mistake, since Hi!Superb’s cute one says so.

RYO: ! Ah, thanks!!

LEO: Also, when I’m the MC you take the lead telling me I gotta be lively during our scenes and enhance the mood, so I’m always saved by that.

RYO: I was praised by Leader! Yaay!

LEO: However, there are also moments when you rush things up, so there’s room for improvement, haha.

RYO: !!

OMI: Because you push your way through as if you’re in a bulfight. I’d be happy if you could calm down a little.

RYO: Uwaaaah~~ I was body-slammed~~ (cries).

SION: I think that having a challenging spirit is amazing.

RYO: Thank you, SION!

A question from Leader that’ll cause the youngest members to be in a pinch.

LEO: To MAGURA and SION in particular, if you were to work with someone from Hi!Superb, who would you choose?

MAGURA: Hmm, let’s see...

LEO: It’s okay if it’s just from your current impressions!

RYO: No, no, I’m scared!

SION: Ehh, It’s troubling because I want to be with everyone.

RYO: Well then! When I went out to eat with SION before, I was told that "I feel so comfortable with RYO-kun!"

SION: I wonder if I really did say that, haha.

LEO: So, is SION saying he’s fine doing things together with RYO?

OMI: Somehow, the pressure here is amazing.

MAGURA: I really want to try being together with everyone, so it's difficult to answer..... But, I'm sure that here “I want to be with you all” is the right answer, right?

RYO: Stop make this look like it’s business! (cries)

LEO: Speaking of MAGU-chan, he has a refined ability to perceive and watch closely his surroundings, haha. Before, during Hi!Superb’s program Hi!SuPunch, I ate something very spicy, but when I was in agony MAGU-chan was the very first that brought me water.

RYO: Although they’re younger than me, I think they’re really reliable. During lives, it’s odd how I often go to the youngers’ (to MAGURA & SION) side, maybe it’s becose I sense safety from them.

LEO: You really love MAGU-chan, RYO!

RYO: True, sometimes I mistake him for a girl! (lol) But when I look at his abdominal muscles, "Ah..... I get it, after all he’s a man" I say, disappointed. (lol)

OMI: That’s obvious.

RYO: Here’s the straight man, OMI-kun getting colder and colder!

OMI: Stop! Don’t stick close to me!

MAGURA: RYO-kun...

SION: Yeah, and a bit of a M.

LEO: SION, what's your impression on MAGURA?

SION: Well... We’re the same age and we get along. It’s kind of like... if you get too close, he’ll disappear, as if there is a hole in one’s heart?

MAGURA: Such a thing, you’re formidable, SION. A natural charisma.

Q. Although the debut single “Turn Into Love” was released on May 30, please tell us about the most important part of the tune title.

LEO: The image and the songs are filled with all the charms that us, Hi!Superb, have now. It's a fascinating song, I think that you can enjoy this single even more if you do it together with us.

MAGURA: The parts of the lyrics, “We’re here now because we could overcome it”, “Shine on our tomorrow“, have this kind of “We’re keeping an eye on the future so we’ll work hard!” feeling. I'd be glad if you noticed not only the performance, but also the rest.

RYO: It's a song filled with the refreshingness of 5 people working altogether for their dream and giving their 10000% in performances!

OMI: It's the song that symbolizes us. From now on, whenever we show off this song, I think that it will keep evolving rapidly. A fascinating song suitable for a debut, so please pay attention at the live and have fun.

RYO: I think it’s a very exciting song! I will do my utmost for the performance, so I hope you enjoy it when I’ll perform during the live. In the lyrics it says “Let’s believe in a world that we drew together”, but it’s filled with thoughts like “It’ll come true with all those who support you!”. I’ll be very happy if everyone can hear it with such feelings!

SION: “Turn Into Love” means “Come to be Love*”. Those who know us and those who don’t, I hope that if you listen to this song your love for Hi!Superb will deepen. It's our important debut song. I think it became a good beginning. In other words, amazing!

MAGURA: It’s our splendid debut song! I think that more songs will see the light from now on, but I think that this became the iconic song of Hi!Superb.

Q. “Turn Into Love” has a MV, but what are the points worthy of note?

MAGURA: There are a lot of lip synch scenes, but each personality comes out amazingly. By all means, find out each of our personalities.

LEO: The lightning tone scene at the beginning leaves a strong impression.

RYO: Yep, yep! Me too, my switch turns on when listening to the thunder at the beginning!

MAGURA: RYO-kun’s lively switch?

OMI: It sounds different when it comes to it.

SION: Suddenly comical, haha.

LEO: But, it may be true that that sound surely contains feelings. At that moment, it really feels like from one we become five.

SION: Usually everyone separes this way, but in this MV a lot of sex appeal comes out.

Q. Thank you very much. Is there anything you would like to challenge yourself with in the future?

MAGURA: Since SION can speak english and chinese, it’d be nice to have a place to use that skill.

RYO: Sounds nice! I want to go overseas!!

OMI: How simple-minded, but I sure want to challenge myself and perform overseas as soon as possible.

LEO: Since our motto is to challenge anything, I'd also like the 5 of us to star in play someday.

RYO: Ah--!! That’s nice too! I wanna do that too! And I'd like to be on the cover page of a magazine! MY★STAR stuff, I’ll be in your care!!

SION: OMI-kun and MAGU-chan already said it earlier, but we shouldn’t stop in Japan; we’ll start up activities overseas and live the american dream (※Editorial note: It was a very good pronunciation....!)

OMI: There’s a part in Turn Into Love that says “To a world we have yet to see”, but I think that the future we can't even imagine is waiting down the road. A play, activities overseas too, precisely because we’re not known I want to challenge myself to see what I can do.

RYO: How nice! Like, basketball!?

OMI: .... What?

MAGURA: Ah, I’ll make the teams.

RYO: As expected, I think that it’s good for the 5 of us to sweat over one spor...

OMI: Leader, the final words to you.

LEO: Eh-!! (lol)

Q. By all means, please give us a final message!

LEO: Understood (lol). Hi!Superb is a group of which charm lies in performances and team work. Said charm can be seen in lives, no matter how many times I say it!! So, anyway, come see us first. If you think you were deceived, I’ll say it one more time! There’s also the MV attached to the special edition CD released in May, so I think you can enjoy it more if you see the images and listen to the songs, that’ll make us happier than anything. But even without preparations, since we’re making a stage that you can enjoy, I’ll say it again, please do come and see us Hi!Superb.

ALL: By all means~!

_________________________________________________

*Sion actually says “Turn Into Loveの意味は愛に変わるです”. “愛に変わる” means “Turn Into Love”, but in order not to sound redundant, it was changed to something with a similar meaning.

#hi!superb #Interviews

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bright-molina · 6 years

Text

Wonderwall (1)

Call me crazy. But what can I say? With so much royalty here on Auradon life is bound to get interesting. And now that our beloved King Ben has brought so many VK’s over we’re in for a real treat. Who better to bring you all the fresh news than me?

Our topic today? Well it’s only what everyone has been talking about for ages. Cotillion. Let’s see what our favorite AK’s and VK’s are up to, shall we?

Part 1 featuring: fem!reader (daughter of Elsa), Harry Hook, Evie, Jay

A/N I’m excited for this guys! This combines two of my favorite things: Descendants and Gossip Girl. It was requested by my literal fav @blog-lady-vi forever ago and I’m excited for it! I don’t know why I kind of assumed Auradon Prep was situated like Hogwarts with years 1-7 starting at age 11 but let’s just go with it. I also don’t know why I think of Harry as being lowkey preppy once he settles in to Auradon Prep but again, let’s go with it.

Let me know what y’all think! (Also check out the parallels I made here)

Cotillion season has come around again guys and gals! Now I am loving seeing all of you freaking out over dates and preparations and all but do you know my favorite part about balls? The drama that comes with it...

All your years at Auradon Prep you had only looked forward to one thing. And that one thing was your very last Cotillion. Everything else paled in comparison. It was something special you had been dreaming of since you were a little girl. Ever since you found out that it would not only mark the end of your years at Auradon Prep but also your transition from princess to Queen of Arendelle.

You were smiling as you flipped through the scrapbook you kept with you. It was filled with everything you wanted for your dream Cotillion and this was the exact moment you were waiting for. You were snapped out of your trance with a knock sounding at your door.

“Evie I’ve told you. You know you can just come in whenever-” You stopped when you swung the door open and found out it wasn’t Evie. Your face fell and you let out a huff. “What do you want?”

“What, I can’t come see how my favorite princess is doing?”

You walked away from the door with a roll of your eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to be picking up unsuspecting fifth years or something?”

“Now, princess, why would I go see them when I have you right here?” Harry smirked wildly from where he was leaning in the doorway. He watched as you shut the scrapbook before turning to look at him again.

“Leave, Harry. Now” You told him, not faltering in the slightest. He, however, saw it more as a suggestion than an order.

“What’s this?” He ignored you and waltzed over to the table where your scrapbook was sitting. He had just flipped it open to the first page when you snatched it right off the table.

“None of your business” You snapped with a glare. The two of you were staring at each other, you with annoyed fury in your eyes and him with a smirk on his lips. That was how it always went with the two of you.

That’s how it had been for the past year ever since he came to Auradon from the Isle. Sure, the two of you had your fair share of moments so to speak but you had Jay. And maybe what you had with Jay wasn’t true love but still, you did love him. In a way. After all your relationship was nothing if not complicated. In short it could be described as on again/off again but you two always came back.

“Knock knock!”

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

“Hey,” A smile grew on your face as you greeted said person with a hug and a kiss, one that was apparently much to long for the other people in the room.

“Break it up you two, there’s work to be done” Evie rolled her eyes but her smile gave her away. She was the only one who knew how you really felt, she always had been so much smarter than people gave her credit for. But she never spoke a word of it, after all if you were still happy who was she to tell you how to live your life?

That was what she told herself anyway. On the inside though all she wanted was for you to be truly happy. To not have to rely on some facade that you had convinced yourself was working when it was becoming noticeable that it wasn’t.

“What are you doing here?” The smile on Jay’s face didn’t fade when he turned to Harry. The word ‘friend’ was just a bit of a stretch but ever since they started rooming together (under Ben’s orders) they had become closer. It was to the point where on occasion they actually hung out sometimes. No one was more surprised than you had been.

“Oh nothing,” Harry shrugged absentmindedly. “Dropping off some work since the dearest princess decided to ditch yesterday”

“I wonder why that was” Evie smirked just the slightest bit. She had been the one who caught you and Jay sneaking through the halls. You rolled your eyes playfully before turning your full attention to where Evie had set up her things.

You didn’t even notice when Harry left. Or when he snatched a page right out of your scrapbook.

Uh oh. Looks like there’s trouble running amok in Auradon. Rumor has it our very own Evie was the victim of a break in. Now I know what you’ll all say “that can’t be right, Mal has protective spells all around their dorm.” But alas, it happened. If you ask me it was time the so-called lady of the court got taken down a peg. After all, we can’t always get what we want. Right, Mal?

“What do you mean my dress was the only one stolen!” You shouted as you paced the floor of your room.

“Calm down,” Evie rolled her eyes at you making you sigh. You mumbled a quick apology and went back to pacing. It was no secret you weren’t necessarily a favorite around school. You had been at one point but one thing led to another and eventually you stopped trying to please people. They didn’t like that. You had Evie now though, her and just a couple others.

“Did I tell you the florist lost my corsage?” You said, finally stopping and taking a seat on your bed with a tired look on your face. “There’s a wedding this weekend and all the peonies have been bought out. Our car has been rented out to someone else and I just got a call about a cancelled hotel room”

Evie could see how upset you were despite how well you had gotten at concealing emotions. And so she decided you needed a win. “Well lucky for you I already have something new in the works for you” There was a glint in her eyes and you could tell she was excited for it. “It’s a surprise though so I will be back next week with an almost finished product”

“Have I ever told you how much I adore you?” You smiled at Evie without hesitation. She smiled back and the two of you laughed together.

“Yes you have”

Jay had been staring at Harry for the last half hour. He couldn’t help the intrusive thoughts. Jay wasn’t stupid by any means, of course he knew that Harry was always the one you turned to when you broke up. Not only that but Harry had let it slip one night that he did in fact have some sort of feelings for you. He may or may not have been a bit drunk.

“Can I help ya?” Harry was getting tired of the staring.

“No thanks,” Jay mumbled before sitting up straight a few seconds later. “It’s just nothing’s really been going right”

Harry couldn’t help rolling his eyes. But still, he paused his movie and turned to face his roommate.

“How so?” He couldn’t care less but he had a feeling Jay wasn’t about to drop it anytime soon.

“Stolen dress, cancelled rooms, misplaced flowers. The usual,” Jay shrugged absentmindedly but then his eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything would you?”

Harry knew exactly what Jay meant. “For the last time, no one actually means anything they say when they’re drunk. You of all people should know” He winced at the sound of those words leaving his mouth. Even Harry Hook himself could admit that that was a low blow. Needless to say it was a sore subject. Alcohol had been banned from their room. That ban didn’t last long though.

But every word that had just spilled from Harry’s mouth was also a lie. He had meant every word he said that night. That was why what he was about to say pained him.

“Look,” He forced himself to look at the tv again, it was the only way to not give himself away completely. “Y/N is yours. I get it”

Jay believed him. “Okay”

#thoughts anyone?#harry hook #evie #jay #descendants #descendants 2 #disney descendants #harry hook x reader #things i write #wonderwall

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autoirishlitdiscourses · 3 years

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Discourse of Wednesday, 19 May 2021

You have a happy holiday break! I'm sorry I didn't anticipate at the third stanza; and picked for went picking; was hanged; and didn't take it you're referring to the YouTube video from the professor send out are considered to meet downtown at a coffee shop on Sunday or Monday would work for the Croppies 6 p. If you have questions about these things might be to ask you, provided that each of the better ways to do it through GOLD. Got it! Choose either of the things that interest you can better achieve an even better, and how the poem's rhythm and tension than they probably would have liked generally lost points for discussion to motivate me to print and scan and email your grade I'd just like to be sure you know when I need the class and led them through some very good work here. I'm glad to be leveraged carefully. This page copyright 2013 by Mooney. You have some very perceptive. If you have questions, OK?

Really good delivery; you may have noticed that the semi-competent mouth-breathing campus technical administrators decided to use silence effectively in your paper depends on where you found it there and did this without being so long to get an add code I've actually never had this problem, as well. Here's a breakdown on your main payoff—then restructure your paper are yours and which are quite strong. Remember that one thing that leaves me feeling unsatisfied about your nervousness can help you to each section and from me later that day, and I'll schedule a room, but you'll be master here? I suspect that you were on track throughout your time. My mapping from percentages to letter grades/to papers, so you need me to hold two people who decide they want to deal with and critique?

I assure you that I have is to say that I do not have started reading Godot yet if they're cuing off of his lecture pace rather than the assignment write-up midterm is tomorrow at 10 p. But I think that the exceptions are more relaxed and have some very, very good job this week has basically evaporated I'll put you at C. Doing this effectively if the maximum possible discussion credit if you go back to you, you'll want to recite and discuss this particular grad-school-length paper.

Here is what you want to put these two texts and what it means and how you can let me know if you want to dig into the final itself midterm, recitation, and you've also demonstrated that you're working with: what are your criteria for determining what the larger context of your argument, but the usage in literature in English X-rays, which is more that the best person to ask the College of Letters & Science, at. At the same time, to be their advocate so that the writer has a pork kidney for breakfast, writes odes on hawthorns, having specific points in the future. You picked a longer-than-required selection and delivered it in then. I taught them during my office hours and am happy to talk about this, I think, would be to resolve the primary course text s with which the soldiers crowned Jesus in the storyline.

In a lot going on. Hi! You might also get you a five-digit code, which is what you intend to respond to a specific claim in your section is optional next week the writing process, but forget which one. You may have required a bit more practice but your writing is generally taken to mean by passionate, insightful, moving delivery and wait for an O'Casey recitation. Thank you. Section participation. That is to blame to It seems _______________ is to pick them up today, but I think that you have any questions, OK? An excellent job an impassioned and fluid, impassioned delivery of Lucky's discourse here, and then looking at their level of familiarity with the exception of many poems that we did not read it this way.

He said in the formula below, I would say the smartest way to think about Fluther's point of criticism made by the rules is generally a better one that he read would be helpful in the term very unlikely even a perfect job, but there are also some editing problems here—it's just that I set the bar for anyone to assume that I think this could be read, and you display an excellent opportunity to do this as the student writes in her discussion of the essay. Again, well-structured manner; integrated historical scholarship with excellent close readings by a piece of writing a first-decade artworks because Ulysses has and did a very close to convenient and painless as possible; if you do not grade you have to schedule a time in a genuinely serious and unavoidable emergency family death, serious injury, natural disaster, etc. More importantly, though, and b it avoids analysis in an earlier discussion, but I don't know that I have you down for McCabe. Make sure you carefully evaluate whose viewpoint we're getting Bloom's thoughts about it anyway, but if you can't make it, because I'm leaving town for the quarter, in another pattern.

Looks like everything's working now. You picked a difficult and complicated thing to do with the poem by Patrick Kavanagh Patrick Kavanagh Patrick Kavanagh, Innocence Wherever you are perfectly capable of being paid to serve as fully and clearly as it turns out that you are perfectly capable of learning to use the standard deviation was 11. Pullet p. I really enjoyed having you in lecture 22 Oct: The Lovers 1928; probably others that don't change the way that is not fantastic, but I'm also happy to give you a five-digit student ID codes, for instance. Of course, let me know and I'll see you on the exam! I just sent you about the text, and you demonstrate a very good job of tracing some important thematic elements. So, the condition that I hope you have sophisticated and deserve to represent them even better quality, and is often incompatible with trying to say about what you're getting out of his travel on the section website. Another way to meet. Standing in front of the entire thing; perusing the index might pay off. If you haven't yet made a huge number of questions and frame them. That's fine and I'll have to be as successful as you revise that draft. One of the Catholic doctrines on temptation, which is a move that would be different if tie operated differently. If we're getting Gertie's thoughts are usually businesslike, or the student really wants to have to pander to my office this afternoon and have too many emails shortly before each paper is well-structured manner; integrated historical scholarship with excellent close readings by the time limit you've sketched an outline with more specificity before a presentation. I also said this in terms of which I think that the paper just barely pulls you over the Thanksgiving holiday. She twentythree. For one thing that may not be able to give you a copy of The Butcher Boy; you adapted to the aspects of the text in question before lecture is over tomorrow, you're welcome to refine your ideas, not blonde, hair. Go above and beyond the length requirements. So you can point people to talk about what it means to have a thesis yet or didn't when you know that you're perfectly capable of being responses to suffering. You've got a really strong essay in a timely fashion in order to pass. There are any changes made I will still expect you to prioritize and get you feedback as quickly as possible when you were trying to satisfy an essential element from the in-depth examination—I've marked some places. Grading Rubric for Analytical Papers I expect that you should nominate them! You relate the various strands you're tracing to each other. Here's a breakdown on your recitation tomorrow. You added the before night in section this quarter! 4% of your material you emphasize I think that what your overall logico-narrative that is, or in the play, it would help you to place at the beginning of section, but in your writing stage. Covers general guidelines for participating in course texts, and recall problems.

I felt like you were absent we talked earlier today, but think explicitly about what specifically has changed by the email servers that the professor's miss three sections and you had a B his grade based on the time of the Gabler course edition. /Excellent delivery, and quite engaging, and yes the grade definitions—GauchoSpace does not meet basic standards for a ten-digit student ID codes, for instance his sculpture is perhaps one of three groups and the Stars to Downton Abbey for a job and knee surgery. What do you analyze your points because it assumes that alternate options have been an easy task, you/must/email me and make sure that you haven't found it on just a tiny hair under B. If, after all, this is.

Just let me know when you don't feel comfortable talking to me in an even more specifically in your future work. It will need to buy yourself some breathing room. If you're interested in this particular question, which is probably most easily found on the day before Thanksgiving. That's been reflected in the Ulysses lectures which, given Ulysses, 7. Good luck on the most part though it might have been, both because it assumes that alternate options have been more students who often come in late and/or have a good sense of the two revolutions, separated by 127 years? Your Grade Is Calculated in Excruciating Detail. Making a wise topic to topic is acceptable what it meant to be as successful as you finish preparing would be a hard skill to learn and I hope that they only discussed a single person. Thank you for doing a large number of points. I'm still trying to say, a professor in our society means that a potentially productive ways to approach the question of how they did that than leave it.

What I suspect that much of this, and that not doing so by 10 p. I can just post what you've sent; just start writing. I'll see you in section during Thanksgiving week instead of scaling back what you're doing it is, in relation to do this and anyone asks you specific questions that are not allowed to pass beyond merely reciting twelve lines, but you are also possibilities for other ways to put this would result in an analysis of things well here: you need to have you as quickly as spaces show up on posting links to the poem and connect it to one or more people see some aspect of Plough into relief. You did a good selection, gave what was overall a very graceful job of walking a rather difficult, and everything looks really good question, but to aim to do. Let me know what you really mop up on time. I'm happy to do this as written, would be helpful. Other unforeseeable, catastrophic events that they will have an excellent holiday weekend this quarter, and I'll see you then. I cannot fully explain to anyone else, because it mirrors the hyper-aware emotional state that Bloom ponders Roentgen rays in the outside world.

Nevertheless, the average score would be to think about your evaluative criteria, which at least represents itself as a result of a small observation: I will count that as part of the poem's sense of the woman herself cannot effectively protect herself from the closing of the handout linked above was prepared for a text, and campus will be there on time will result in a room tomorrow in SH 1415. How to Get An A paper, and so it is likely to be expressed in your hand.

You might think productively about, and dropped that in as soon as I pop back to you until you've sat down and start writing in order to be directly to the people who makes regular substantial contributions in a solid job here, although the multiple starts ate up time that you'll have a low A on an English minor, etc. Thanks for your argument, but it's often helpful to look for cues that this is unfortunate because they haven't impacted your grade, you two after another group for several reasons, too is it that's interesting about the text of the poems you choose and owned it. Passages for close reading of Ulysses that we didn't read: the twelfth line.

Eavan Boland, or if you arrange a time to reschedule. All in all, from very short IDs, and some of the text, and producing some of my previous students have jobs and sports and family emergencies and about his paper in my opinion, to come to that but it's more or less a third of a text, but is perhaps not, too.

You were clearly a bit too quickly, and to engage in your delivery was a productive discussion. I'm sorry to take this into account when grading your paper to be over. Again, I do not use GauchoSpace to calculate grades, preferring to leave your luggage in my margin notes in some of your future writing assignments. Well done on this you connected it effectively to comments and passages from The Butcher Boy; Stephen Dedalus's rather morbid and misogynist fixation on the surface.

#Irish literature #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Python #Markov chains

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max-sparrow · 7 years

Text

The Drought of Souls

I was passing through a small town. The sun was setting and I was going 75 mph. I wanted to get to the hotel before late night, get a few hours of sleep, and with luck, tomorrow I would arrive on time at my families reunion party. Was I really eager to get to my family reunion? Absolutely not. I detested my family and they detested me. I supposed it is only fair. However, I did have a good reason to go. My aunt Mary had just passed away and I was told she left a substantial amount of money in the will for me. Mary had married an oil tycoon that died at an early age. She was already swimming in luxurious clothes and gaudy jewelry when she met her second husband and he too was well off- although his specifics, I am not sure of. She remarried around the time I separated from my family and traveled away from Louisiana and its nightmarish hell bent weather. Nevertheless, her second husband died and now, well- now she was dead- and I was going to collect my part of the family fortune.

My eyes were getting heavy, and I see a sign for a small cafe. I was just going to stop in for a little bit of coffee. I was driving in the middle of nowhere, and I knew it was the last opportunity I had to get some caffeine. The stretch of road I was coming to was one lonely soul, and I needed to keep my weary eyes alert.

I stepped out of my car and grimace. The days I had spent growing up in Louisiana were returning at an excessive pace. I pulled out a cigarette and leaned against my car for a moment as I took a drag. I had been driving all day, and my whole body ached.

I took another drag of the cigarette and place it out as I entered the cafe. There was one person seated in the dimly lite room that wreaked of coffee and cigarettes.

There was a cash register but nobody around. “Hello?” I cry out as I look around me. The gentlemen seated in the corner continued to read his paper and was either too engulfed in an article or too uninterested to even glance at me. Suddenly a bulletin board caught my eyes. There was tac’s bearing newspaper articles that had been ripped from their pages. There must have been three dozen articles of missing people and animals.

“Well, that is Louisiana for you. Southern Charm,” I said with a certain sarcasm.

“May I help you?” I was startled by a bonny man who came from the back He looked at me with curiosity, and I swayed my attention from the bulletin board to his aged face. You could tell he was a smoker by his leathered skin and rotten teeth. Looking into his eyes made me consider letting go of my cigarette habits, but the keyword was- consider. I would certainly die as a rebellious smoker.

“Coffee, sir,” I say to the man. He is silent as he fetches a cup and walks over to the coffee pot. I sit down on the stool and tap my fingers anxiously.

“Where are you going?” The man asked, and once more, I noticed his deep sense of curiosity about me.

“Down highway 34 and to the Holiday Inn.”

“I reckon you shouldn’t,” says the man as he pours the coffee. He places the top on it.

“Why do you say that?” I asked inquisitively.

“You saw the bulletin board,” He said as he handed me my coffee, but he did not look up into my curious blue eyes.

“People disappear when that sun goes down past the sugar cane fields. At first, it was just animals from nearby farms, but then people started to disappear. There used to be a community of farmers not far down the road, but almost all of them have vanished or moved away. Gone- Like they were never there,” he says in a wretched crackling voice. I frown as he pulls out a cigarette. I did not particularly want to watch him smoke- it was hard enough watching him as he was.

“Well, I use to live in Louisiana. I am heading towards the hotel about- three- four hours away. I am sure I can handle myself.”

“I would not do it,” repeats the man but this time he shook his head and took a drag from his cigarette. “They call Highway 34 the drought of Souls. Did not pick the name- just the name it kinda got.”

“That is quite imaginative,” I say.

“You’re an arrogant fellow- not the first of your type I have seen come through this cafe. You’re city educated- book learnings and all. I warned them just like I warned you. Some of them get through okay, but some of them are never heard from again.”

I was beginning to get uncomfortable and began to understand why his cafe was in habituated by one man who showed absolutely no interest in socializing. I paid for the coffee, thanked the man for his advice, and got back in my car.

This is what I could not stand about Louisiana. Aside from the smell of chemical plants, the swamps that harbored nothing but rodents, and the weather that was normally humid and hot- I hated how close minded everybody was. As I thought about this I arrived at the conclusion that the man was as close-minded as he was crazy. “The people of Louisiana love Republicans, crazy stories, and good food. Yet, returning to the car I realized that just about summed up most of the population here. It was as if time had moved on, while the rest of America was moving on swiftly. I sipped my coffee and turned on the radio. There were no radio towers nearby and so I plugged my iPhone in and turned up the speakers.

“God I did not want to see my family,” I think to myself, and this sorrow has me reaching for my cigarettes. In fact, I inquired if a lawyer could interact on my behalf and have the money delivered to me through him, but everybody insisted that I come. I was a writer for a small newspaper in North Carolina. Yes, I thought about flying, but I never took to the skies like my family did. My family loved traveling over seas and going on new adventures when I found ample amounts of excitement right here in America. Something about flying left me moderately unsettled. No, 9/11 did not help, and the whole process was so elaborate that I was quite comfortable driving my Toyota Camry down the road. It would be worthwhile. The sum of money I was going to receive would be in the millions- or at least- that was the rumor.

I was sailing down the highway and I had pushed the car to its limit at 85 mph when a loud pop could be heard and my car began to spin. Although it happened in a matter of seconds, it felt like time stood still as the car finally came to a stop. I let out a nervous gasp, until that moment- as the car came to a halt. I had popped a tire. “Great,” I say out loud. “Just fucking great!” I get out of the car as I fumbled for a cigarette. I walked around to the back end of the car and shake my head in frustration as I glare down at an entirely flat tire. I stood there for only seconds when a blunt object hit the back of my head.

I awoke slowly as my eyes lifted to a man who was gazing back at me. He spits his dip into a can. I have always hated when people dip. I thought it to be a sickly habit, and I realize there is some irony from this because I smoke. The man looked into my eyes as I regained continuousness. I was light headed and it took me several minutes before I noticed I was tied down to a wheel chair.

“What the fuck happened to me- my car- the tire,” I remembered it all, and I looked back into the green eyes of the country hick bum. He smiled at me.

“Ya always takes folks a few minutes to remember,” he says with a grin that displayed several rotten teeth.

“What is going on?” I asked, and you could hear the fear in my every word as it drained out of me like a slow oil leak.

“I have never had one at your age. You have excellent skin, and those eyes of yours are so blue,” he said smiling. “You will make a spectacular specimen. Lucky your smoking hasn’t messed up that beautiful face of yours.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked with arched eyebrows and with the growing realization that I was in deep trouble.

The man rubbed his hands through my hair, and then spit into a can. “Open that mouth.”

“Nice teeth- nice hair- wearing good clothes- you ain’t the normal types in this part,” says he. He had a droopy chin that complimented his equally droopy eyes, and a straw hat sat upon what was a balding head. He was not a big man, and although I did not know where I was, I knew I could not be far from the highway. There was no way this man could have carried me very far. Then again, I had no idea how long I had been passed out.

“Help!” I start screaming. “Help me! Somebody! Help!” I yelled at the top of my lungs while the man stood up and just shook his head, and gave an eerie grin.

“Boy nobody can hear you- nobody will hear your screams- not even God himself.”

“I have money,” I say as I begin to cry. “I am- I am – going -to – I am going to my aunt’s house for a lot of money. I will pay you whatever you want. Just let me go!” I was still screaming but you could hear the horror in my voice and tears trickled down my face like never before.

“Well, boy- let me show you what I got in store for you?” He said more than he asked- and I looked at his tooth rot as he smiled.

He got behind the wheel chair and pushed me into another room.

“I swear, I will pay you- whatever you want- I come from money.” It was true, I did come from money, and I would have paid anything to be released. I never did like horror movies, I did not like to be scared, but right now- I was living inside of one- a horror movie- a nightmare of grand proportion.

“Look around the room,” he said, and my mouth just hung as I looked around a huge room filled with- …. I looked at I was shocked. “You’re a-“

“That is right boy, I am a taxidermist, and this is where I display my finest pieces. You will go in here. Already picked out a spot for you.” He pointed over in the corner of the room.

I finished my statement a moment later, “No- I was gone say- you’re a monster.” My lucid comment was brief, and he did not like it.

The man slapped me across the face and grunted. “you’re lucky you’re so pretty- don’t want to mess up your figure but if you were not such a perfect specimen, I’d beat the shit out of ya- kid. This is my work. This is my life. These animals and people are immortal. You should be happy.

I looked around the room at what I saw. There were stuffed cats, dogs, animals of all types, but most of the room was filled with stuffed humans. It was a chilling sight, to say the least. It almost looked like the set on a stage. Two stuffed women sat on a couch, and both had a cup of tea in their hands. There was a piano where a stuffed man rested his fingers on the keys. It looked so real- but it was not. It was all fake. He had murdered all of these people. They were dead, despite his attempt to humanize them with lipstick and paint on their faces.

“Please, sir- I will give you money and all you got to do, is let me go. I won’t tell anybody about this.”

“I just cannot do that.” He said.

“You know people are looking for me,” I say as I try to pull myself together.

“Save your breath boy,” he says as he eyes me with curiosity and takes some dip out of a can and places it beneath his lip. “I have heard it all- you’re not my first- won’t be my last. Just think about it boy, I am making you immortal. That is the finest of all compliments a man can ever receive. You’re lucky I ain’t chargin’ you!”

“I do not want to be immortal,” I say in a hushed sob.

“Now before I can properly work on you I am gonna’ place you into a freezer. I want to preserve your features. So let’s take you to the freezer.” He pushed the wheelchair and the only sound was the squeak of the chair at first. I was silent and listened as he erupted in conversation again, “got some work to do, and your blood will solidify and you will be,” he pauses and says with a smile, “immortal.” As he neared me to the freezer he began to reminisce, “Nothing more fitting than immortality. Although I must admit, I do enjoy the whole process. Now some people would say removing the organs and guts is nasty, but I just love it, boy. I truly do. It’s a God given gift.” We came to a stop and unlatched the freezer with a key.

I cried as he wheeled me into a giant meat locker. There were other people frozen and body parts that he had obviously severed from other humans. For what reason- I would never know- and nor did I want to know.

“Sweat dreams boy,” He says, and he turned the freezer light off, leaving me tied hopelessly in the wheelchair. I heard a lock fasten and the lights went black. It was a blackness that no human could ever feel unless they were in my skin. It was hell’s darkness. The odor was toxic, and I was beginning to get cold.

“Nobody could help me now,” I repeated, “Not even God himself.” Those were my last words.

#scary #fiction #horror #Louisiana #disturbing #short story

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booksareawayoflife · 7 years

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The Chemist by Stephenie Meyer

‘In this gripping page-turner, an ex-agent on the run from her former employers must take one more case to clear her name and save her life. She used to work for the U.S. government, but very few people ever knew that. An expert in her field, she was one of the darkest secrets of an agency so clandestine it doesn’t even have a name. And when they decided she was a liability, they came for her without warning. Now she rarely stays in the same place or uses the same name for long. They’ve killed the one person she trusted, but something she knows still poses a threat. They want her dead, and soon. When her former handler offers her a way out, she realises it’s her only chance to erase the giant target on her back. But it means taking one last job for her ex-employers. To her horror, the information she acquires makes her situation even more dangerous. Resolving to meet the threat head-on, she prepares for the toughest fight of her life but finds herself falling for a man who can only complicate her likelihood of survival. As her choices are rapidly whittled down, she must apply her unique talents in ways she never dreamed of.’

Book Review: *Spoiler Alert* I bought this book because I am a massive fan of Stephenie Meyer. I love (and still love) the twilight series (the books, not the films ugh). It got me into reading when I was 11-years-old, so there will always be a special place in my heart for Stephenie Meyer. I like her writing style, and I always end up connecting with her characters. I first saw this book in Schiphol Airport in Amsterdam when I was there in December, and I wanted to get it but it was REALLY expensive. Like a lot more expensive than if I were to buy it in London. So I waited two months until I finally gave in to my temptation to buy it. I heard quite good reviews about it, and on Amazon it was like a third of the price compared to what I saw it in Amsterdam, so I HAD to buy it. I wasn’t entirely sure if I would like it, but I did. To be honest, I do like spy books so I should have expected to like it, but I think it was because I had no expectations going into this book, so I was pleasantly surprise at how good it was. But with that being said, there were some flaws.

This book is quite relationship based. I sort of understand what people mean when they say that Alex just sits back and let the men do her job. The book is more about the development of the romantic relationship between Alex and Daniel, but also the frenemy relationship between Alex and Kevin. The main characters do things for each other because of their relationships, and everything is relationship based. Even the bad guys have family motives. But there is also a lot of action scenes, don’t get me wrong. It’s just between the action scenes, there’s relationship goo.

I would say that you would need to read the first 100 pages before you are hooked. I intended to read the first hundred pages, and then go to bed. BUT I got so absorbed that it wasn’t until the action died down that I realised that I was on page 145. Crazy. I am just glad that I could afford going to bed at 4am. So it is not necessarily an easy read, because I did have to pace myself over three days to read it, but it was an enjoyable one. There was romance, action, and even some comedic bits. Now let’s talk about the characters.

I quite liked all the characters. I liked Alex/Juliana, Daniel and Kevin. I liked the twist that she was a spy, but with a chemistry background so that she could kill people with syringes, as well as guns. However, I question her actions when it comes to starting a relationship with Daniel. I understand that spies are also human beings and they need love and company, but a civilian? One that you tortured as well. I also question Daniel in this, because I don’t know about you guys, but I am not into people that torture me. Not that anybody actually has tortured me, but I wouldn’t be like, “Let’s kiss!”. Kevin has to be my favourite character. Just all the things he does is almost hilarious. I know that he is supposed to be a serious character because he is the rogue spy )the traditional kind), but I feel as if he always gave the comedic relief. I did like Daniel, but I also question his actions. I question the whole idea of him seeing Alex/Juliana and noticing her, when she was in disguise, and do what he has never done before and chat up a random stranger. Like it is all a bit of a coincidence. Meyer should have made it so the train like jostled, and Daniel bumped into Alex and then notice her. It would make it a bit more plausible, and a bit less up to chance. If Daniel noticed Alex after he bumped into her I would have been happy with him flirting, and talking to her.

These are characters, but they aren’t humans so I am going to dedicate a whole paragraph to the dogs in the book. I was actually surprised at how many dogs there are in this book. I was pleasantly surprised. I really loved Lola. I was really sad when she got hurt, and Alex had to boarder her in a shelter. I imagine that at the end of the book that Alex would go back for Lola, and Lola would be hers, but it is the only thing that isn’t cleared up. I wanted Lola to be with Alex until the end, and Lola be like vital to Alex’s survival, and then Lola survive and be with her until the end. I also liked Einstein. Not as much as Lola. Einstein was more of a guard dog, so I didn’t really bond with him. But I was glad that he survived the book, because a lot of fictional dogs died in the making of this book. Although the dogs that did die, didn’t have names and stuff, but I was still sad that Meyer made dogs die *crying*

In terms of death, I didn’t like Arnie and Carston’s death. I didn’t like Arnie’s because I felt like he deserved a better death. He should have died fighting, not assassinated whilst he was sleeping. And Daniel is a f**king idiot for thinking that being in hiding means that he can go to the local small town shops and buy food and a movie. Like seriously? Arnie’s death was Daniel’s fault and I feel like he should have felt guiltier. Arnie’s death should have been a bit more impactful too. As soon as he dies, I feel like he is forgotten about. Kevin should have been a bit more upset too. But then again, they are spies. With Carston, he didn’t deserve to die. Alright yes, he was the bad guy… to a certain extent. But he didn’t order the hit on Alex, and he was willing to die in the hopes that his child would return home safely, a child that Alex kidnapped. Yeah, okay, after Carston’s death no one would be looking for Alex, Daniel and Kevin but I just didn’t think that he deserved to go that way. He had a three-year-old child. Haha I am getting waaaay too invested with these characters.

Overall, I give this book a 8/10 or a 4/5. Whilst it was a good read, and I may re-read it in the future, it is lacking a special something for me to give it 5/5. Whilst it captured me in some parts, the whole book did not engross me. I was able to pace it. To me that means that it lacking some magic. If it was a great book, then I would not be able to put it down and I would forgo sleep to finish it. But what I did like about this book was it’s ending. For an “adult” book, it was pleasant to experience an happy ending, and you got to see what happened to the main characters. But you don’t find out what happens to the supporting characters. Whilst it is a short ending, it also gives way for your imagination to fill in the rest. I liked all the spy, and action bits and I did not mind the romance. I would recommend this book to anyone who is a Stephenie Meyer fan, and to people who like romance and happy endings. I don’t know if I would recommend it to people who like spy books, because to me… it just didn’t feel like a hardcore spy novel… even though it was. The focus on relationships make all the spy actions fade into the background, so I wouldn’t recommend it to spy book lovers unless they like that. I won’t be donating my book, and there is the possibility of me re-reading this book. Just not anytime soon. It was a good book. I was pleasantly surprised by it.

Love Lou xx

#the chemist #stephenie meyer #meyer #thriller #fiction #mystery #suspense #book #novel #books #book review #review #novel review #spoiler alert #good ending #book blog #spy #spy book #8 #spoilers

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5hfanfiction · 7 years

Text

I Needed You (5H/Camren/Laucy)

We’re both sitting on a couch in this room, empty coffee table in front of us. Across the room is a middle aged male sitting in a plush leather chair, his name is James. James is a marriage counselor, for a few months now we’ve been seeing James on a bi weekly basis. For the first couple of weeks it was just us staring at him, him waiting patiently for either one of us to speak. Neither of us would say a word, at one point I started to think what’s the point in all this? We’re making zero progress and frankly it’s becoming a waste of my time, I’m starting to come to grips with the fact that my marriage was no longer something that could be mended and then one day she finally spoke.

“We fight” “We don’t fight, you yell and then you leave” “I leave because…We don’t communicate” “We try to communicate you’re just on a completely different page” “Oh because I don’t do what you want?” “No, because you cheated..again.”

“That was a long time ago. We’re fine now.” She says to James I look her way, I scoff “We’re fine.”

•

“There has to be a deeper reason” I say as I’m standing up now pacing the room a bit “There isn’t I already told you. You know why” “What am I suppose to do with that?” “Trust me?” “I trusted you last time and look where it’s gotten us” I point to James “In three years, five years what if you change your mind again? You’ll regret it, because I’m not gonna be here waiting forever.” “I’m not going to change my mind-” “You’ve said all this before! How do you expect me to believe you?” “People make mistakes, I’m not perfect. I made a mistake!” “Why. Tell me why?”

•

“You’re with her all the time, do you really expect me to believe it’s only happened twice in all the years we’ve been together” “You’re just being ridiculous now. I don’t do everything with her plus she’s my best friend, she’s my person-” “I should be your person!” “Be my person. Be my person Lucy! Be my freakin’ person!” “Be MY person.” I whisper

•

James had us try this exercise where we just look at each other, we’re siting face to face and just concentrate on looking at each other. It works for about five minutes before I blink and direct my eyes towards anywhere but hers. I hear her sigh.

“You have to try” she says sounding defeated “I am trying” “We’re suppose to be concentrating on each other and breath. You’re not, your mind is somewhere else other than here.” “Oh so now you know my every thought and intention?” I snap “Don’t do that! Don’t act like you’re the sun and everything revolves around you cause it doesn't” She turns her body away from mine, then sighs deeply “We use to be able to look at each other and we just knew that everything would be ok. ” “I’m here, I’m right here Lauren. I’m trying. Please just look at me.” She turns to face me again “Ok, I’m looking at you” she says to me but in that moment I realize, I’m looking at her but I don’t see her. And it’s jabs like that that are slowly chipping away at my heart.

•

Lauren disengages eye contact this time and turns back around to face forward. “She has to stop holding a grudge, she’s never gonna let this go” she says to James “She has to see me for who I am and that I made a mistake that I’m trying to fix or else-” “Or else what?” “I don’t know!” “Would it kill you to just see things from my side? Maybe what I need is to have my feelings worthy of consideration, my feelings are worth something too that I’m worth more than how I’ve been treated” “It always comes back to this doesn’t it? That I cheated-” “No. It’s who you cheated with” I couldn’t help the sob that escaped “I’m just…I'm…I…” “Lucy, I’m so sorry” “You’re breaking my heart.”

•

Silence, all that is heard is the ticking of the clock on the wall in the big open office. We are both sitting on each side of the couch when suddenly I see James lean forward in his chair and close his notebook.

“I’m afraid our time is up.”

Lauren’s POV

I’ve been calling her for hours and she hasn’t answered any of my calls or texts. I’m really starting to get worried, what if she’s hurt? I’m getting ready to dial her number again when I hear the front door open.

“Luc, where have you been? I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for hours!”

“Relax, my phone died. Where’s Ava?”

“It’s 11, she’s in bed after crying all night wondering where you were! She thought she was gonna spend the day with you.”

She rubs at her temple and sighs as she sits across from me at the table “I know, I’m sorry. I got out of the shoot late and my phones been dead since this afternoon.”

“You look exhausted, where have you been Lucy?” I ask

“I was in a meeting with…Allison” she says

“Allison? Our lawyer Allison?”

“Yeah, she’s gonna draw up some papers for us to look over.”

“No, Lucy. No please, we said we were going to work through this and…and we have been. We’ve been going to counseling and we’ve been communicating better. Luc, please don’t do this.” I’m basically begging her, this isn’t how I thought this day would end

“Lauren you’re unhappy. I’m unhappy, we’ve been walking around in circles tip toeing around each other so Ava doesn’t notice anything is wrong but she notices Lauren. She’s asked me if we’re ok. That’s not something a child should be worried about. We need to do what’s in the best interest of our daughter.”

“We’re the best for our daughter. We’re her parents, her mothers. We need to stay together.”

“That’s the problem Lauren, we’re acting like everything is the same but it’s not. We’re acting like we’re still a happily married couple but we’re not, we're…..it’s like…we're…just friends.”

Camila’s POV

“Lauren hasn’t contacted me in a few weeks, do you think she’s really done?”

“Isn’t that what you wanted Mila?” Mani asks

“Yeah sure I got what I wanted, I don’t know I guess maybe …I just thought she’d fight for me.”

"Think of it this way Walz now you aren’t tied down by anyone you can go to the Met Gala with an amazing date and have the best night of your life!” Dinah says from the kitchen and as she walks into the living room with the pizza we ordered and beer

“Well…yeah..”Mani says as she stuffs a slice of pizza in her mouth

“What?” I ask

“Huh?…. What?.. Nothing?” Mani says

I look towards Ally who is trying to chug a beer in order to not be asked anything “Ally?”

“Camila…it’s really not that big of a deal…it’s a huge event…tons of people…you may not even see her.”

"She’s going? And nobody thought to tell me till now?”

“Again, tons of people you may not even see them.” Mani reiterates

“Them? She’s still with her?”

“Mila, they’re married. She’s trying to fix her marriage.” Ally says as she makes her way towards me and rubs soothing circles on my back as I’m letting her words sink in

“She chose her again….but I don’t think I’m ready to let her go.”

——-later that week at the Met Gala——-

The both of us got here just in time for the carpet to roll out. My date was non other than the beautiful actress Maia Mitchell. We walk the carpet together and head over to the interview side of the carpet separately.

“Camila, you look gorgeous how excited are you for tonight?” “Thank you! I’m very excited it’s a great event and we’re glad we were invited” “Can you tell me any secret inside scoop on the new song Lauren’s preforming tonight? We know you guys have collaborated in the studio not too long ago.” “Um” What? I think to myself, I knew Lauren was going to be here I didn’t know she was preforming. “Anything that comes from Lauren Jauregui is going to be amazing, so just be prepared!” I say which was more than satisfying for the interviewer.

I leave that section of the carpet and see some fans asking for pictures and autographs that I gladly make my way to.

“Hey sweetie” I see she has a ‘Camren’ phone case. These harmonizers never quit I laugh a little to myself “Camila do you think we could get a picture with you and Lauren?!” She asks and others hear and immediately agree “yeah please, can we get a Camren selfie!”

“That one might be up to Lauren guys” I giggle as I sign some posters and phone cases “What might be up to me?!” Her husky voice leaves me at a standstill, the crowd of fans go crazy with screams and hands and phone flying her way to get just a tiny glimpse of the Cuban goddess in front of them. It’s like this is all happening in slow motion for me, she turns to look at me and I decide to check her out shamelessly from top to bottom. She’s wearing a black skin tight dress with her hair in soft waves flowing down to her elbows, she’s let her hair grow again, I’ve always loved her long locks. “Um…uh, they…uh, they want a…” I stutter, I haven’t seen her in months and now here she is right in front of me. And she’s stunning.

“Can we get a group picture with the both of you Lauren pleaseeee” a fan asks bringing me back to reality

“Yeah of course babe, let’s do it!”

We both squeeze in with the group of fans and take a couple pictures. Paparazzi snapped a couple shots of us as well with the fans and some fans handed us their phones to get a different angle of the group as well. Overall I think it turned out great, when we were done security lead us to the end of the carpet and into backstage where we finally had a minute to ourselves.

“Thanks for that back there, the fans really enjoyed it.” I motioned behind us “Absolutely, it was fun.” She’s just looking at me now, ugh why is she so stunning “How have you been Camila?” She asks Camila? She hardly ever calls me that. “I’ve been good, ya know just writing a lot getting plenty of hours in the studio. You, how’s Ava?” “Great, I can’t wait to hear some of it, and she’s great thanks Ava and Lucy are keeping me pretty busy now a days with school, mommy daughter activities and also we’re getting ready to start planning her birthday” “Right! That’s in a few weeks right?” “Yes, June 7th. She wants to formally send out invitations so look out for yours” she says to me “Oh Lauren, its fine you don’t have to really with everything we’ve been through I wouldn’t want to impose.” “What do you mean? Of course you’re coming, your one of her favorite aunts. Listen no matter what happens between…us..I wouldn’t dream of keeping her away from you” “Thank you, that means a lot. And I don’t mean to pry and you definitely don’t have to tell me but…how are you and ..” I didn’t even have to finish she already knew what I was asking “We're….getting there again…we’re working on mending our relationship. It’s hard but…” I see her begin to struggle with her words so I cut her off “I’m sorry seriously don’t worry about it, I don’t need to know. I heard that you guys are trying to work it out and…I think it’s great, Lauren I really do. I’m happy for you, you know all I ever wanted was for you to be happy and …I just…” I started to get a little upset and I’m not sure why, we’re over. I initiated it for us to be over, so why am I feeling this way. She picked Lucy, she picked her wife again over me, shouldn’t that tell me something shouldn’t that deter me away from her. No, it doesn’t at all. It makes me want to point out to her how much we are meant to be together.But I don’t, I couldn’t do that to her, or her family. “I’m just happy that you are happy.” I end with “Thank you, that means a lot coming from you! I want the same things for you too, and we’re friends right?! We’re still gonna be around each other and our families and friends. I want you to experience everything that life has to offer with someone who is willing to put you first Camila.” She reaches out and we hug, no we don’t hug, we embrace each other almost as if it will be our last. Which in my mind it will be, things are going to change and honestly I’m not sure if I’m ready for that, but at the same time I have to be.

After we end our embrace and just take a second to look at each other, we get blindsided by flashing lights of the cameras and then not a second later Dinah,Ally, and Mani pull us into a group hug while we make our way deeper into backstage where the five of us are together in Lauren’s dressing room. “Are we all good?” Dinah asks looking at both Lauren and I “Yes” I say smiling as I’m looking at Laur and then around the rest of our circle of friends “We’re all good, we’re all healthy, and happy,and we’ve got nothing but good vibes.” I turn to Lauren “We’re really excited about your performance tonight thanks for even telling us” I playfully nudge her arm as do the other girls “but we’re really proud of you and can’t wait to hear it!” “It was meant to be a surprise but thank you guys!” She says bashfully

We all finish up our little pep talk with her and then as we are leaving her I notice Lucy walk in and I felt compelled to speak to her even if for a little bit. We haven’t had any contact what so ever since the barbecue and that’s when Lauren and I started…whatever. So hopefully she sees my attempt at talking to her as a way to make amends and not to cause anymore damage than I’ve already have.

“Lucy” I say “Yeah?” She responds “Listen I just want to say how sorry I am for everything that I’ve caused between you and Lauren and…everything. I want you to know we’ve stopped everything we’re just friends I don’t have any intentions and those were never my intentions to hurt you. I’m so sorry Lucy.” “You did cause a lot of issues in my marriage, but I appreciate you apologizing I really do.” She pauses for a second and just looks at Lauren, with nothing but adoration, passion, and mostly love. Love is all I see when she looks at her. I know because….because I look at her the same way. “Lauren wants you to be apart of her life, a part of our lives. Mine and Ava’s as a friend, aunt. I’m going to trust her because she means the world to me and she’s my family, she’s my everything.” She turns back to look at me “please don’t make me regret this Camila.”

She looks at me as if she’s begging me, begging me to not take the love of her life away. We both are in love with the same woman but the truth is Lauren’s only in love with one of us and it’s clear to me which one of us that is.

“No, I won’t it’s clear that she’s happy. You make her happy, and that’s all I ever really wanted for Lauren.” I say back to Lucy trying to give her all the reassurance I can.

“Thank you Camila.” She sends a smile my way. As I’m getting ready to leave I notice Dinah and Lauren are having a similar intimate conversation.

Lauren’s POV

“Lo, I’m so proud of you for this. For stepping up in your relationship. For being a great mother. For being an amazing person. I’m so proud of you.” Dinah says as she embraces me in a tight squeeze

“D, thank you. I’m happy” I say with a genuine smile and only one girl on my mind “I’m really happy and I’m glad we’re all here and that everyone is on board”

"Honestly I have no idea what song you’re preforming in a bit but if it’s anything like what you’ve been writing lately, it’ll be amazing!” She gushed “Sooo which one is it?!?”

"Dinah! It’s suppose to be a surprise!” I giggle as she’s still egging on for a song title. I look around to make sure nobody else is listening and then that’s when I catch Lucy looking at me and we share a loving stare and I feel I fall every time I see her. “How Would You Feel” I say as I turn back to Dinah

“Ahhhhh” she starts jumping up and down “That’s such a dope song!!! She’s gonna love it girl! Good luck out there!” Dinah gives me one last hug before she makes her exit from my dressing room.

As I watch Dinah leave I notice Lucy and Camila are talking. Those two girls were my world for as long as I can remember, but for as long as I can remember there’s always been one that’s made my heart beat a bit quicker and the butterflies in my stomach flutter for a bit longer. She’s the person who I’ve spent years confiding in, venting to, and loving. She’s been my rock for this crazy journey I call my life. She’s seen me through the highs and lows, when I’ve felt like I’m on top of the world and when I’ve felt like it’s all crumbling down. She’s been by my side through all of it.

– “Ladies and gentlemen please put your hands together for Lauren Jauregui!”

The stage opens and the solo spotlight slowly brightens up for myself and the black piano to come into view of the audience.

You are the one, girl And you know that it’s true I’m feeling younger every time that I’m alone with you We were sitting in a parked car Stealing kisses in the front yard We got questions we should not ask

But how would you feel If I told you loved you? It’s just something I want to do I’d be taking my time Spending my life falling deeper in love with you So tell me that you love me too

In the summer As the lilacs bloom Blood flows deeper than a river Every moment that I spend with you We were sat upon our best friends roof I had both of my arms ‘round you Watching the sunrise replace the moon

How would you feel If I told you I loved you? It’s just something that I want to do I’d be taking my time Spending my life falling deeper in love with you So tell me that you love me too

We were sitting in a parked car Stealing kisses in the front yard We got questions we should not ask

How would you feel If I told you loved you? It’s just something I want to do I’d be taking my time Spending my life falling deeper in love with you So tell me that you love me too Tell me that you love me too Tell me that you love me too

I take my earpiece out and blink to adjust to the spotlight on me and I see the full arena on their feet. I’m amazed and overjoyed, and the first persons eyes that I connect with are Camila’s, I smile at her then direct my vision to my wife who has tears glowing in her brown orbs. I wrote the song for her, in a time where I wasn’t sure if our relationship was something that could be fixed but I was sure of my feelings for her. I still am sure of my feelings for her, for my wife. I love her. I quickly wave to the crowd and then exit the stage to head to the dressing room and then enjoy the rest of the event. Leaving the stage and entering backstage I’m welcomed with applause and ‘congratulations ‘ which I gladly accept and thank, once inside my dressing room I’m waiting on my girl to come in and congratulate me personally-

“Lauren that was amazing!” I hear coming from the girl who just entered my room, though it’s not the voice I was expecting. “Camila? Thank you, um..sorry I wasn’t expecting you.” I say and she can hear the surprise evident in my voice. “I’m sorry I know, but…I just have to ask…um…that song…it was is beautiful.” She says and I’m about to answer because I know exactly what she’s trying to ask until my dressing room door opens again.

“Lauren, Lucy is being held up by some interviewers but she’s asking for you.” Jen my manager comes in and tells me. “I’ll be right out, thanks.” I say and then look back to Camila I’m about to answer her when she seemingly wants to take everything she said back “You know what, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have. You did amazing, great job. I’ll see you out there ok?” She says as she try’s to leave “ Camila, wait what are you trying to say?” She’s making no sense right now. “ Nothing, really I just wanted to congratulate you….it’s an amazing song…Lucy is really lucky to have you” is the last thing she says before she leaves. Once again when I feel like everything is going well and we’re on the same page, she comes and says things like that then just leaves. I don’t have much of a chance to think about it too much, knowing that Lucy is waiting for me I quickly change and make my way out to the event and find my wife.

I’ve made my way back to our table to enjoy the rest of the Met Gala evening, I’m at our table but don’t see Lucy and just end up catching up and thanking the other guests that are sat at our table, I pick up my champagne flute and take a sip of the strawberry champagne when I suddenly feel arms wrap around me from behind and someone whisper in my ear.

“I love you” I know that voice and a smile instantly graces my face. I get up and instantly wrap the women in my arms, almost as if we’re the only ones in the room and this moment is just ours. I tell her I love her too and she captures my lips in a searing kiss. We get a little lost until we hear a couple whistles and applause which makes Lucy giggle disconnecting our lips and ducking to hide her blush in my neck.

“Are you ready to go home?” I say to her after a little while into the event, she leans into me and just nods. We say our goodbyes to friends and guest on our way out. Once in our car we naturally cuddle each other in the backseat. “Luc, what did you think of the song?” I ask “It was amazing babe, really it was! I know you’ve been writing a lot but this song was absolutely beautiful!” She leans up and pecks my lips. “Well, I have a surprise for you once we get home” I say while playing with her fingers that are interlocked with mine and also absentmindedly playing with her wedding ring “You do!?!” She asks surprised knowing that we’re very close to home like literally less than five minutes. “Yes, really” I giggle “So I’m going to blindfold you ok” I say as I bring out a red blindfold and she nods happily and turns around so I can cover her eyes which she’s already closed. I secure the blindfold and then turn her around and see she has a dopey grin on her face and she starts giggling unable to hold in her excitement.

I love this girl, I think to myself. I kiss her lips “So you remember awhile ago…when you mentioned…when you mentioned that we were acting like just friends” I say as I lead her out of the car and through our house into our backyard. Lucy is blindfolded but I see her face falter at the less than happy memory of when we were in a bad place in our relationship. “Laur-” I gently pull off the blindfold and kiss her again “I’m not trying to bring up any bad memories but I’m trying to make a point, you remember that right?” I say “yes” she whispers. “Well, we’re not. We’re not friends.” My wife’s beautiful face shows confusion, I smile and just kiss her again and silently lead her to the chair in the backyard and sit her down. Directly across from her I had set up another chair with my guitar next to it. I take my place across from her and and pick up my guitar.

We’re not, no we’re not friends Nor have we ever been We just try to keep those secrets in a lie If they find out, will it all go wrong And heaven knows, no one wants it to So I could take the back road But your eyes will lead me straight back home And if you know me Like I know you You should love me You should know

Friends just sleep in another bed And friends don’t treat me like you do Well I know that there’s a limit to everything But my friends won’t love me like you No, my friends won’t love me like you

We’re not friends We could be anything if we tried To keep those secrets safe No one will find out If it all went wrong They’ll never know What we’ve been through So I can take the back road But your eyes will lead me straight back home And if you know me Like I know you You should love me You should know

Friends just sleep in another bed And friends don’t treat me like you do And I know that there’s a limit to everything But my friends won’t love me like you No, my friends won’t love me like you

But then again If we’re not friends Someone else might love you too Then again, if we’re not friends There’d be nothing I could do And that’s why friends should sleep in other beds And friends shouldn’t kiss me like you do And I know that there’s a limit to everything But my friends won’t love me like you No, my friends won’t love me like you do No, my friends will never love me like you

Once I finish the song I noticed that Lucy is kneeled down in front of me and wipes at my tears and I do the same for her. I put my guitar down and Lucy makes herself comfortable on my lap straddling me and just hugs me. We stay like that for awhile before she pulls away to just lock her hands at the back of my neck and mine around her waist and we kiss with such passion, I can see myself being this happy for the rest of my life her Lucy, my person, my best friend, my partner in crime, my wife, my everything.

“We’re not just friends” Lucy says and then giggles as she leans in again “I love you.”

A/N: I’m a fan of Greys Anatomy if y'all couldn’t tell 🙊. Ok so how are we feeling? One more part which I’m thinking will me a time hop so maybe a few years or so later on….just a thought, let me know what y'all think. Yeah?

#UPDATE #series #camren #laurmani #normila #requested #based on song #humour #romance fluff #submission #I Needed You

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