Thorin Durin is on his way to Wellington, but not even the bucolic view out his window or the prospect of visiting his sister and nephews can lift him from his mood as the train stalls for sheep on the tracks. That is, until another train pulls to a stop next to his to reveal a gorgeous stranger just across the tracks. And when the man looks up and catches his eye with a smile— Thorin’s day gets more interesting.
where bilbo and thorin are both on trains that stop because of sheep and they spot each other across the train windows and hit it off, with bilbo writing messages on his notebook and holding it up to the window so thorin can see and thorin trying to hide behind his newspaper pretending to not sneak glances bc damn that man is cute
OoOHHHHNNNNNOOOO AND THEY FALL OUT OF TOUCH FOR A WEEK OR SO BUT THEN THEY SEE EACH OTHER AGAIN ACROSS TRAIN WINDOWS BECAUSE OF THE HEAVY SNOW AND THIS TIME THORINS PREPARED WITH HIS OWN NOTEPAD
oh gosh ohh
maybe thorins phone gets lost or fili and kili break it by trying to see if thorins phone will float in the sink
and he’s super dejected about it bc this means he cant text bilbo even when he does get a new phone he cant message him bc he doesnt know his number (and thorin doesnt have facebook bc ultimate technophobe)
and after two days of grumping he writes something down in a notepad, something that he would say to bilbo if he had his number and he just keeps doing it?? like he writes messages lik e “i’ll trade fili and kili for your nephew frodo” or “caught the train, no sheep on the tracks this time, no one used a notepad to flirt with me” or “i don’t even know what colour your eyes are. this is bothering me”
and he does it throughout that week and he realizes that he messages and thinks about bilbo a lot bc he has written a lot and when the train stops he cant help but look up hopefully and he sees bilbo doing the same thing and he sort of sits up straighter and !!! and he quickly turns to a new page and scrawls his new number in messy handwriting with “SORRY PHONE BROKE” in big letters beneath
and when bilbo comes round to thorin’s house he finds the notepad on thorins messy desk and he grins and writes replies beneath each message
They have the same suit, the same halved-rhombus theme… thing, the same disregard for human kind, and a creepy pointy thoothed smile. Try as you might, you will not convince me Berg Katze did not come from the same hell Neuro did. Mayhaps they are related. How horrifying.
Happy St. Patrick’s Day! Let’s celebrate with a giveaway of U2: Revolution.
Reblog or share this post and comment with your favorite U2 song. Make sure to tag @Qgeekbooks (Tumblr, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest). We’ll pick a winner to receive the book.
U2 is a band that is now known worldwide. But how did the Dublin-based rock band get it’s start in the US? U2: Revolution tells the story of the band’s big break at Island Records.
U2 “reflecting” on ahotel roof.
The Edge had visited the United States for a shortholiday, determined to buy a better electric guitar and settling
on the futuristic shard-shaped Gibson Explorer, his trademark
guitar for years to come. But the great leap forward in defining
a unique sound for U2 came from Bono who, impressed by the
Pink Floyd track “Sheep,” which features echo-delay guitar, prompted the Edge to buy a Memory Man analogue echo/delay unit. Where standard punk-rock guitar roared, the Edge plucked, but his single notes and terse chords would echo and reverberate to evoke both the far horizon and inner space.
Motivated more than ever now
they had a signature sound to
distinguish them from such post-punk guitar groups as Magazine, the Cure, XTC, and Siouxsie and the
Banshees, and the four cut an even
better demo tape in the hope of
drumming up record company interest.
In December 1978 U2 found themselves
supporting the Greedy Bastards at the Stardust
nightclub in Dublin. Fronted by the charismatic
Phil Lynott, one of Ireland’s few bona fide rock
stars, and including other members of Thin Lizzy,
along with two refugees from the Sex Pistols,
the Greedy Bastards were a good time rock ’n’
roll band that reveled in their all-boys-together
excess. While treated well by the headliner, U2
could not help but feel that bad behavior was not cool, and not for them. With Bono, the Edge, and
other Lypton Villagers increasingly under the
influence of a fundamentalist Christian Bible study
and prayer group called Shalom, U2 were not to be
tempted from the paths of righteousness.
Bono and the edge would eventually become U2’s accelerator to Adam and Larry’s brakes.
Bono was to be tested when, dismayed by
repeated rejections from record company A&R
(artists and repertoire) to whom they’d mailed
cassettes of their demo tapes, as winter set in at
the end of 1978 he decided to go to London for a week with his girlfriend, Ali Stewart, having
promised her father that her virtue would
remain intact, to try the personal touch with
influential music journalists. Though he made
UK music press contacts that would later bear
fruit, Bono felt U2 had little time to make a
breakthrough before his father insisted he get
a job or attend college.
Fortunately, at home in Ireland things began
to look up in May of 1979 when U2 played the first
of six consecutive Saturday afternoon concerts at
Dublin’s Dandelion Market underground car park.
Attracting a younger audience than would be allowed into venues serving alcohol, U2 honed their
stagecraft, with Bono incorporating theatrical
routines with cigarette lighters, projecting silhouettes through a bed sheet, and using other devices picked up from drama lessons he
and Gavin Friday had been taking.
Even though U2’s songs and
musicianship remained work in
progress, the shows became “capital
E Events,” in the parlance of Dublin’s
younger rock fans, as reflected in the
pages of Hot Press by its writer Bill
Graham and editor Niall Stokes, and on
RTE’s evening radio rock show hosted
by Dave Fanning. U2 had their detractors,
including youth gang the Black Catholics
who tried to disrupt their gigs, which stirred
controversy and fueled growing grassroots
excitement about the band.
What they still didn’t have was an
obvious hit song that might rapidly repay
any record company that took the chance
on them. The record deal they had with
CBS Ireland was renegotiated to finance the
release of U2’s debut three-track single, titled
“Three.” Released in September 1979 with
“Out of Control” on the A-side (as chosen by
listeners of Dave Fanning’s radio show), along
with “Stories for Boys” and “Boy/Girl” on the
flip, its small pressing run quickly sold out.
Though not a particularly musically auspicious
debut, the sleeve’s strong graphic black, white,
and red color scheme would be a recognizable
U2 visual trademark both early in their career
and again more recently.
Bono sees the light.
But as 1979 and the decade drew to a close,
an enthusiastic—but by no means huge—fan
base in the very small nation of Ireland would
not pay the bills. The Edge’s parents now made
it clear that it was time for him to attend college
and read for a science degree. But they came
through with a loan—as did the other parents,
even Bono’s skeptical father—to finance what
looked like a last throw of the dice to secure
that all-important major record deal: a tour of
London. The British capital, along with New
York and Los Angeles, was the world’s most important talent pool where the big record
companies fished for future stars.
Even before they boarded the plane to fly
across the Irish Sea, the mini-tour almost came
unstuck when the Edge sprained his left hand in
a minor road accident with Adam at the wheel,
and had to play through the pain in a cast.
Playing London’s New Wave circuit of club-sized
venues, U2 attracted respectable though hardly
world-beating crowds of the curious, helped by
a front cover feature in the UK music weekly
Record Mirror in November. However, none of the UK record company A&R personnel attracted
by the press buzz felt inclined to commit.
U2 returned to Dublin broke and disheartened, save for one, brilliantly cheeky idea. Long
before cell phones and the Internet, there was far
less instant, verifiable information flying about,
so you could write your own truth. Armed with
their Record Mirror cover story, as well as their
first in Hot Press and an almost clean sweep of
the paper’s readers’ poll that year, U2 spread the word that their London tour had been a
sensation, and they would now be booking a
homecoming victory lap in Ireland, culminating
in a show on February 26, 1980, at the National
Stadium in Dublin. Holding fewer than 3,000, it was hardly the Rose Bowl, but was
still where only the biggest acts
touring from overseas played.
Adam playing his Fender precision bass at a gig.
For a home-grown junior band,
booking the National Stadium was a
gamble that might have backfired;
not only did the band rise to the
occasion and play a great set with
families and friends in attendance as well
as a decent crowd, but also among that crowd
was the man who would grant U2’s most fervent
wish. A tall, genial product of England’s private school system—like so many others in the
company he worked for, Island Records, founded
by former Harrow schoolboy Chris Blackwell—
“Captain” Nick Stewart had been intrigued
by U2’s London shows but needed to be sure
before he could build a solid case for the company
to invest in a record contract. Under the impression that their playing Ireland’s National
Stadium meant they were already superstars
in their own backyard, he flew over to see them
again. Though this stadium show was rather
more modest than he’d expected, Stewart was
impressed by what he saw. On behalf of Island Records, and subject to key colleagues agreeing
with him, he offered U2 a contract.
Bouncing back to London to play the Sense of
Ireland festival, promoted by the Ireland Chamber of
Commerce as a showcase for new talent, along with
the likes of Berlin and the Virgin Prunes, on March
19, U2 did what they needed to do to convince Nick
Stewart’s Island colleagues to back his judgment.
Four days later, in the ladies’ restroom at London’s
Lyceum theatre, where Echo & the Bunnymen, the
Liverpool rock four-piece who would rival them in
the UK for the next few years, were headlining, U2
signed an international deal with Island Records.