#also absolutely NO hate to georgian food like it was good

[medusozoic]

Things my thesis supervisor has done that I cant stop thinking about:

- saying georgian food was his favourite cuisine in all his travels. And he's been to a loooot of places

- texting back 'Yeap' after I asked him if he received my thesis

- telling me and my fieldwork partner that the only way to resolve our conflicts was a fight to the death

- letting me buy a kinder surprise egg on university money

- saying 'oh? Not on top?' (he's gay, knows I'm gay) after I dropped on a bottom bunk and I said 'nah not this time' and he started laughing and I was like 'WAIT HOLDUP'

- bringing too many rocks back from fieldwork so he had to pay 509€ extra for suitcases one of which was a plastic supermarket bag because all of our suitcases were already too heavy

Love him <3

[aizenat]

So, like, Kamala is kinda weird right? And not in her behavior, but, and maybe this is a projection, but the more I see of her, the less I think so, but in the way she genuinely seems to care. In these videos I’m watching to understand what this Palestinian vs Black American issue was about, there’s this one Black girl who keeps coming up who is, uh, let’s just say a little intense. Like, I didn’t disagree with her major points, but she’d go on these weird little tangents or make these remarks that just made me think “so you assume the worst in everyone huh?”

And I get it. We’ve been scorned by politicians our entire lives. So it’s hard to believe people in politics could be this genuine. This is why everyone, republicans and democrats alike, typically dislike Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, and other members of the “Squad” coalition. This is why Republicans have resorted to mocking Tim Walz for “weak sperm” (gross btw) because how do they attack a man who seems like a generally nice guy? It’s why Trump keeps peddling this lie that Kamala is ���more left” than Bernie (first of all, no she isn’t and second of all, did he forget all the polls saying how if Bernie won the nomination in 2016 he would have whooped your ass? People don’t hate Bernie the fuck lol).

They have to find evilness and shady behavior in their desire to, let’s see, help make housing and food more affordable, extend the child tax credit to support people wanting children, universal healthcare (as we’re the only developed nation to NOT have that despite being the richest; funny that) and to make the wealthy pay their fair share in taxes to unburden the working and middle class. You know, SHIT WE BEEN PUSHING FOR SINCE 2008!!!!!! Simple shit every American can get behind. And they want to do it because they see how ppl struggle and genuinely want to HELP.

Believe it or not, some people get into politics not just to collect a check and do nothing, or to get wealthy donor money, but really because they see how people are struggling and they want to HELP. And for the first time, politicians who truly want to help us are getting the spotlight, and we can’t trust it’s real. No, Walz has to be hiding something! Look he had a dui! What do you mean he tried to quit his teaching job in guilt because of it and the principal wouldn’t let him because he was too good of a man? What do you mean AOC wore holes through her heels knocking on peoples’ doors to hear them out and get elected? What do you mean Stacey Abrams lost a big governor race and instead of just bowing out, kept rallying people to vote through her organizations to the point that she turned Georgia blue in 2020, not only solidifying Biden’s win but showing how far one person can take grassroots politics (also, in 2011, she single handedly stopped Georgians from experiencing the highest tax increase in the state’s history)? Just to help people? What do you mean Kamala purposely went into spaces where Black people are underrepresented (prosecutor, attorney general, senator, VICE PRESIDENT, and now soon to be president) so she could transform the system from the inside instead of waiting for a violent revolution that is as likely to happen as the Christians’ long awaited rapture? What do you mean it’s possible to play the long game and enact change little by little? What do you mean you can be part of those systems and not get corrupted by it!???!!!!

This is why I hate stories with that ideology too btw; the idea that power corrupts absolutely. Because no it doesn’t. Some people do take the responsibility of power seriously. Biden did, which is why he stepped down. Kamala obviously does which is why she’s obviously listening to see the best way to help as many people as possible. Who knows what kind of president she’ll actually be, but the ones assuming she’s going to pull the carpet from underneath us and reveal herself to be the evil villain the whole time are really telling on themselves.

People’s problem with Kamala is she seems too good to be true. And so we have to find the cracks and chinks in the armor to prove it. Because we can’t just believe someone genuine could actually be our president. And idk what that means about the presidency that that’s how people feel now. It wasn’t always that way. It wasn’t that way with Obama. Wasn’t that way with JFK. Was it Nixon who ruined it? We can’t get past watergate lol?

It’s tiring having to convince people to stop assuming the worst. I’m so sick of the defeatist attitude towards politics. Nothing matters, no one cares, so we don’t care, and those in power are never held to a higher standard. We have to stop acting like abuse victims with politicians. Believe them when they say they’re going to do what they say they want to do (and that’s on both sides), and if they fuck up, hold them to the fire. If we gotta go back to beheading, then fine. But at least give these people a chance to prove us wrong. Or right.

Fuck, give them a fucking chance. And when you see one who seems genuine, instead of peddling conspiracy theories, take a breath and think maybe we finally managed to pick a good one. Because WE are the ones who pick these people. By voting or not voting, WE give these people their power. And yall really forgot about that. If they’re bad, we can pick a new one. And we can not vote for a bad one.

Kamala didn’t personally execute or process Biden’s policies. That man is her boss. She is not his policies or stances. She’s her own person, and so calling her genocidal, saying SHE’S somehow just as, if not more to blame for Palestine when two of the other MALE candidates of this election cycle have personally resided over administrations that supported and empowered Israel, is beyond disingenuous. If you scared, then just say that hoe, but enough is enough. I get being scared, but we gotta move forward regardless. And Kamala is the clear choice to take a bet on finally getting someone better in the Oval Office.

[m-does-reviews]

Bridgerton

Rating: 2.5/5 stars

S’s Rating: 2.5/5 Stars

Favourite character: Violet Bridgerton - Yes, the mum really took the cake with this one. She was self-assured and meddlesome and sweet (and oddly attractive for an older woman), plus her interactions with the other characters were definitely some of my favourite in the show as a whole. She’s also probably the least problematic characters (besides the literal children). 

S’s favourite character: Violet Bridgerton - Probably the most well rounded character in the show. All the decisions that the character makes fit well with their personality without compromising their likability and role.

General thoughts: It’s not rape if it’s your husband and you really, really want a baby, apparently. Also, what is with that absolute travesty of a hairstyle? 

If I were to rate this on pure enjoyment level, then it would probably be around a 3.5 (perhaps higher if I hadn’t been hate-watching it by the end and ended up loathing every interaction between Daphne and Simon simply because it never acknowledged the fact that she essentially raped him and instead tried to turn it all back around on Simon, and she got what she wanted in the end anyway). More realistically though, it was definitely only a 2.5. It had its moments, but for the most part it was trashy and cheesy, and though I do derive some enjoyment from the regency-era Gossip Girl that we were essentially treated to, it didn't necessarily do anything complex. I also have absolutely no idea what the appeal of a ten-minute long compilation of sex scenes between Daphne and Simon is - I'm not a fan of on-screen sex and I don't find it attractive or particularly arousing, or even all that interesting to watch. It just ends up being really awkward, and though I can appreciate some on-screen sex if it a confirming of the relationship, the sorts of gratuitous scenes we were getting just seemed kind of pointless and added nothing to the story besides it now being classed as 'steamy' and it being raunchier than a lot of other, similar shows. I do admit this may have more to do with personal tastes than anything else, but it still bothered me and left me generally cringing. Something I did like was the diversity of the cast. However, I do feel like if they were going to bring up this diversity in the show itself they should have really ran with it instead of a brief throwaway comment about how because the king married the queen, black people were now accepted in society. If they were going to raise the point then I wanted them to really run with it and show us how much has changed and what things used to be like and the injustices they may still face - a brief throwaway comment did not achieve this, and instead seemed kind of pointless. Putting that aside though, it was nice seeing more non-white actors/actresses on screen, especially in what is primarily a white regency romance show. In short, I don't really have much to say about this except that it was an exaggerated romance that played on a lot of tropes I'm familiar with through reading romance. Whilst the story itself wasn't anything spectacular, it was, for the most part, fun to watch, even if the characters had a tendency to be annoying, make bad decisions and generally screw up. It tried to handle issues (like pregnancy outside of marriage, alongside the racial diversity), but it didn't do it in any way that was particularly enlightening or interesting to watch and instead it ended up feeling superfluous to the actual story it was trying to tell and more done for the added drama (in the case of Marina in particular here). I couldn't get past the rape scene that was portrayed later in the season though, and this put a downer on my experience watching the show quite a bit, and I couldn't support Daphne and Simon's romance after that - which was a shame because it was the primary focus of this first season, and I usually can appreciate a good fake-relationship trope (which is definitely one of my favourites).

S’s thoughts: This is a very difficult show to rate. On the one hand, the story is incredibly predictable and many of the characters are one dimensional, with many of them feeling like their sole purpose is to move the plot forward at their designated time. Looking back it kind of astonishes me how little I know about a lot the characters. On the other hand, I could not stop watching the show and was enthralled in the plot for the majority of the runtime. It certainly helps that the situations and premise are extremely exaggerated so you don’t take things too seriously. This is complimented by the snappy and well though-out dialogue.

That being said, I’d be more inclined to give the show a 3 if it weren’t for a few standout issues. The show has strong themes of misogyny and the struggle of women, even those at the top of society. The issue is that the time period and setting does not compliment this very well. Let me explain: the time period is Georgian England, a time when slavery and class inequality run rampant throughout the world. The show however, also takes place in an alternate history where slavery and racism have been stamped out by the interracial marriage between Queen Charlotte and King George. To me this feels like an attempt to strip away racism as an issue of the time in order to focus on misogyny as the primary theme. This would make a lot more sense if class inequality was shown to also be less of an issue but instead it is presented and quickly swept under the rug as unimportant. This may seems overly nit-picky and pedantic but it gets at the core issue of the show where if you think about things for too long it starts to fall apart.  

Finally, the show is trash but fun trash. It is not meant to be analysed or poured over. It is the equivalent of junk food. It has problematic (I hate that word) moments, one dimensional characters, weak subplots like the gambling problem, a predictable story and weird themes. Nevertheless, if you want to turn your brain off, react to sassy dialogue and appreciate the period costumes this show is for you.

[swifty-fox]

Please tell me about 1920s Russian socioeconomic policy

PLEASE LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT 1920′s RUSSIAN SOCIOECONOMIC POLICY

 so 1920′s Russian socio-economic policy was in a few short words. entirely fucked.  Granted the issue goes farther back than 1920′s! basically up until then Russia had been functioning as a mostly closed society in that they rejected the industrial age of the mid to late 1800′s. They believed that they were superior as a country and did not want interference from other religions and cultures (the Great Schism took no prisoners) So essentially at the turn of the 20th century Russia was still almost in the middle ages (granted there was some technology leakage etc. it was more prevalent in upper society to be more modernized) BUT they still had peasants and serfs and people living as they had done hundreds if not thousands of years ago (something like 80% of Russians were impoverished and working as serfs ((that might only be white Russians there's like 32 ethnic Russian groups nobody likes to talk about)) ) 

cutting for length

so naturally people are like mad pissed about that right? they want to be part of the progression of the world they want to be educated and to travel and to have access to medicine and technology and all the benefits of ‘modern’ society. but Tsar Nikolai says no. This is a huge part of his downfall, his unwillingness to change (also vague antisemitism ((they used to conduct these things called Pogroms which was basically localized exterminations of Jewish people. it was fucked up and vastly condemned by a lot of people but the powers that be used the Jewish people as a scapegoat because uhhh 1800′s and 1900′s be like that)), being REALLY bad at war, Rasputin, excessive spending and wealth, a little spice of police brutality and a few massacres as well as aggressive heavy-handed tactics against terrorists. Great family man. Bad leader.) 

Anyways fast-forward through the Russian revolution that's a whole can of worms

Now we have a new government. not a better government but a NEW one with vastly different ideas of what they’re going to do. 

Another sidetrack, lets talk about Communist Theory for a sec. I’m going to go into Karl Marx’s original intention as Russian Communism is actually a twice bastardized idea of Communist (Lenin developed his theory of communism from people like Georgi Plekhanov and  Nikola Chernechevskey’s book What Is To Be Done?  who were also putting their own spin on Marxism) 

ANYWAYS. The basic idea of of Karl Marx’s Communist theory is that society will eventually, over the course of hundreds or thousands of years, develop through capitalism and unto a utopian world where we have no need for things live government or taxes or money. The concept here being over hundreds or thousands of years and NATURALLY.

The Bolsheviks (Led by Lenin) Looked at that and said mmmm no lets do it in like twenty years. 

it’s 1921 and Lenins NEW ECONOMIC POLICY (fondly nicknamed NEP) enters STAGE LEFT (get it) 

The basic idea of NEP was to blend capitalist (i.e a private market) with communist ideals (i. e. no market) and Fast-Track us to glorious utopian communism in not a few hundred years but in a few years! 

sounds doable right? 

the basic idea of NEP was that there would be limited private property that would ultimately be mostly owned by people that Lenin approved of (allies, benefactors, heroes of the glorious revolution for mother Russia and so on) There were things called prodravzyorstka  which was forced grain requisitions by the communist party for the good of the people  basically soldiers would come in and take most of the famers grain and left them to starve. There was also an imposed a tax on farmers that could be paid in -you guessed it!- more grain! NEP abolished that and instead allowed for a cash payout the harder that farmers worked. Productivity went up like 40% in the years following! Pretty great!!

It also incentivized and supported the formation of unions (they were communists remember, those bitches love unions) All in all it was....pretty decent? It wasn’t exactly communist as essentially it was just tax returns or the government buying grain from peasants rather than the peasants having to sell the grain themselves. Pretty great right! 

But it created an imbalance. Again, that Russia wanted to do was industrialized! they wanted to become modern but they didn't want to follow the way any other country did it and they wanted to do it in a fraction of the time! As the government and the ECONOMY began relying on the small farms for grains and vegetables and resources, the big factories and institutions that were privately owned were STRUGGLING!  as a result, they had to raise their prices to try to pay for themselves. But now those same farmers couldn't afford the industrial things they needed! like equipment for their farm tools and tractors or household goods. So now they have to raise THEIR food prices in response. It was a great way to inflate the economy after WII and the revolution. But obviously we all know where this is going. 

And then Boom. Lenin dies. The man had one too many strokes and croaks out in his country home without a successor named. The government is in chaos. Nobody knows what to do. Shortly before his death lenin wrote a (frankly quite funny) letter saying all his successors were fucking idiots and he hated them all.

In steps Stalin. If you think Lenin was bad...Stalin is a fucking bastard. The guy is even MORE antisemetic, brutal, corrupt, mysogynistic and RACIST. The man really hated the chinese. he also hated Georgians (the country not the state) which is pretty funny because he was Georgian. 

Anyways, he abolishes NEP and implements something called the Five Year Plan (NEP 2 for the jokesters out there) 

Stalin shifts the focus away from boosting agricultural development and focuses on rapid industrialiation in, you guessed it, FIVE YEARS. The stats on this plan are fucking insane man get this:

Staling wanted an 111% increase in coal production, 200% increase in iron production and 335% increase in electric power!!! in FIVE YEARS. 

(he also eliminated a class of people called “kulaks” which were richer farmers by turning the poor farmers against them. By elimate I mean they were murdered and their property distributed amongst the poorer farmers.)

I could go on and on about all the ways this failed, all the brutality, unethical and unsafe work enviroments, the continued programs, the amoutn of people who were murdered, the prison(slave) labor used, the rounding up and mass murder of anyone who spoke out against Stalin, the Five Year Plan or the russian government. This is really where the Soviet Union as we know it as westerners got its reputation. 

Also he caused TWO famines because he made all the farmers move into the city to be industry workers so they ddint have any food and didnt accept help from the Red Cross or other countries because MUHHH MOTHERLAND

but you know what it kiiinda worked? Capital increase was almost 160%, consumer goods increased by 87% and total output was up almost 120%!

But also it caused one of the worst famines in the western world with an estimated 6million (some people argue as many as 10million. We will never know the true number because it was mostly peasants and ethnic people suffering) people dying across the entire Soviet Union. Poeple were dying out on the streets in broad daylight, people were selling their dead children to be food. You can see pictures if you google it but they’re very graphic.

Generally, the Five-Year-Plan was lauded as a massive failure and a hotbed of absolutely disgusting human abuse and cruelty. And you knwow what Stalin said? He said nah it went well and implemented about FIVE MORE (theres been twelve in all but they exent up into the early 90′s) I wont touch on them as they were all pretty much iterations of Stalins original one and they all sucked.

Basically Russian Socioeconomic Policy is a hotbed of bad decisions, human rights violations and a LOT of interpersonal drama that i do not have the time to get into. (like the fucking DRAMA between Stalin and Nadezhda Krupskaya (lenins wife))

theres also a LOT more to it I just tried to condense like 40 years into one post so please feel free to go out and research your own! I used Peter Kenez’ “A History of the Soviet Union From the Beginning to its Legacy” while in class. It’s a little dry but effective 

theres also this book by my professor who is a DELIGHT https://www.amazon.com/Red-Arctic-Exploration-Soviet-1932-1939/dp/0195114361 and while I havent read it im sure its told with the same humor and zeal that he conducted his lectures 

also this bOOK THIS BOOK RIGHT HERE is SUCH a good read!

https://www.amazon.com/Vasily-Grossman-Soviet-Century-Alexandra-ebook/dp/B07P9HJMLM/ref=sr_1_4?dchild=1&keywords=the+soviet+century&qid=1589727805&sr=8-4 if you read any of them read this one! it examines the entire rise and fall of the communist party through the story of Grossman who was a jewish-russian writer and pretty famous in his own right though he died penniless and scorned. He’s got a couple movies based off his books out there two which were shelved for criticizing the party for decades! please read it i beg you

[heartbeatkitty]

Wooooo, I got tagged in an ask meme! Can’t remember the last time I did one of these. Thanks @passionate-reply!

Nickname: Mel

Real Name: Melanie

Zodiac: Sagittarius (this means absolutely nothing about me, I just happen to be born in December folks)

Fave Music and Groups: Mostly a lot of 80s post-punk, the gayer the better. Top 3 groups are XTC, Pet Shop Boys and The Smiths. Other faves include The Monochrome Set, Yazoo/Alison Moyet, Bronski Beat/The Communards, OMD, Soft Cell, Spoons, Martha and the Muffins...and I have a special fondness for a lot of American first-wave-of-new-wave acts, like Blondie, the B-52′s, the Go-Go’s, the Cars, and Talking Heads. 

Sports: I’m not especially sporty as such, but I do enjoy biking (at our office, you can book a little room with a bike and pedal as you work, and I do that every single day). I also enjoy volleyball whenever I get a chance, although as a bespectacled person, that’s not always the safest of sports, you feel me? :)

Other Blogs: @maidenauntsoftechno, which I haven’t updated in a while.

Get Asks?: Verrrry rarely. Mostly by porn blogs if I’m being honest

Blogs I Follow: 39

Tumblr Crush: @passionate-reply, @thegroovyarchives, @petshopboyss, @legendarypsb, @psb-smh

Lucky Number: Don’t have one

What Am I Wearing?: I am actually wearing a good outfit today! I’ve got on my favourite jeans (thrift-store, from a brand that apparently isn’t even being made any more D:), my English Settlement tee and my favourite green velvet moto jacket from Camden Market. Oh, London, I miss you.

Dream Vacation: I regularly dream about visiting the north of England. I did get to visit London and a couple of other surrounding cities and I have a special fondness for Swindon. It’s XTC-town, how could I not love it?

Dream Car: I’ll take a page out of Stephen Luscombe’s book for this one, “I hate cars”

Fave Food: Homemade Caesar salad, chicken wings, any kind of fish, and roasted vegetables.

Drink of Choice: Water (non-alcoholic), Georgian Bay Cranberry Gin Smash (alcoholic). Generally I like anything that’s just a little bit sweet. I’m also extremely picky about my coffee (it must be decaf, roasted locally and compatible with oat milk). 

Instrument: My voice, I’m a pretty good singer (with a somewhat limited contralto range - XTC songs fit it perfectly). I’m sure I could also pick back up the bass clarinet if I tried.

Language: English, French, and a teensy bit of ASL.

Celeb Crush: I’m hopelessly in love with Neil Tennant. And for some reason I find old Gary Numan suuuuuuper sexy. 

Random Fact: I fidget by popping my phone’s pop-socket in and out constantly.

I Tag: If you think this is fun, do it!

[mixingpumpkins]

Meme time!

Following my own Character Vibes Meme for the idiots currently playing D&D in my brain because why the fuck not.

Rules, short version: Write creative descriptions of each characters’ vibe, preferably using references to dumb memes. Try to show who they are without revealing anything about them. Try not to make relationships obvious. Arrange the list alphabetically and post. Ask your followers:

Can you tell which are the main characters and which are side characters?

Can you tell who’s related to who and how?

Which of these characters most interest you? Which ones do you want to know more about?

If anyone wants to comment, have at! Tagging: Literally anyone who wants to. I think pretty much everyone I follow writes / RPs / etc. so...

The only story context you get: Historical fantasy. Mid-late 1700s / Georgian era. Multiple continents. Absolutely not an exhaustive character list but this is plenty for one meme. These may or may not actually be their names. Also, I definitely broke my own rules several times and many of these may be more roasts than vibes. Good luck figuring out which. (List under the cut.)

Adelaide: Would sell the entire world to Satan for one corn chip. Would do even worse for more. Not selfish; it’s just that no one deserves better. Including her, apparently.

Alexander: Good priorities, questionable methods. Gives really good advice, provided it won’t lead you off his path for you. Kind and absolutely should be trusted, but also absolutely should not be trusted.

Benedict: Educated. Respected. Logical. Rolled a nat 20 on persuasion. Great combination in the wrong hands. Would steal your copy of “I Don’t Know How To Explain To You That You Should Care About Other People” and use it to eviscerate you. Slowly.

Bess: You know that moment in Order of the Phoenix where Umbridge sits in her stupid doily-filled room and puts like 5 spoonfuls of sugar in her tea and arranges the pencils on her desk into perfectly straight lines? Same energy.

Chauncey: Literally the Least Subtle “Confirmed Old Bachelor” in the history of Confirmed Old Bachelors. Haters? Don’t know her. Probably has a successful TikTok for tying cravats.

Clement: Has his shit on lock, and probably everyone else’s, too. Being rude to him is the equivalent of cussing out the people who make your food. You just… don’t. Really, don’t. 

Diana: Knows exactly what she wants and likely has 5,000 plans up her sleeve on how to get it. Named for a goddess and will be worshipped as such… even though that’s so tedious.

Dorcas: The living Internet Explorer meme 99% of the time - and the 1% she’s not is the one time you were really hoping she would be. Has never heard the phrase “snitches get stitches,” and it wouldn’t make sense in her experience, anyway. God, you wish it would.

Edward: Homebrew is life. Almost always frowning, but also very, very Chill™. Except about taxes. You will eat holy musket fire if you try to disturb his world with unfair taxes.

Elias: Usually the one in possession of the brain cell. Thank god. But may also be a Horse Girl in a future life. The one you should listen to, but somehow people rarely do.

Emeline: How the fuck does she know that? You know what, you don’t want to know. It’s amazing, even when the information she provides isn’t.

Fitz: Remarkably sane. No one knows how. No, really. How is he so normal? It’s almost suspicious. But you look at him, and you just can’t be. It makes sense, even though it makes no sense at all.

Frederick: Born too late for the Golden Age of Piracy, but that doesn’t stop him pretending. Charisma boost so high it’s annoying. Would absolutely fight and die for his wife and child, and probably will.

Georgine: High school superlative would be voted most likely to accidentally throw down The Tower or the Three of Swords while playing poker. Possibly single-handedly responsible for the invention of sweet tea before it was cool.

Godfrey: A Himbo in the making. Absolutely hates his name because it’s too big for him, but thankfully his heart more than fills the void his brain leaves behind.

Hannah: Would have spent 2020 quarantine churning out increasingly elaborate loaves of bread. Just wants some friends her own age but then remembers she’d probably be too busy to spend much time with them and would feel guilty about that so it’s best those friends don’t really exist.

Helena: The younger sister who becomes the Mom Friend dialed up to 11… if that Mom Friend’s bedside manner leaves a lot to be desired.

Henry: Just really loves his wife, okay? That’s his best friend. You go, best friend. He has the BEST best friend.

Hiram: 1/10, do not recommend. Has a way of making people forget he exists until he can be at his MOST aggravating… but his heart is in the right place. Lawful cranky. 

Jonathan: Male Frigga. Meaning: He’s essentially fridged for no goddamn reason other than to provide backstory for other characters. Almost shamelessly so. Sorry, Jonathan.

Katrina: The human equivalent of a sweet, empty-headed golden retriever. (Sings a lot better than one, though.)

Lawrence: That person you don’t really like who does some nice things every once in a while and you could almost see being friends with maybe… and then he does something that is Peak Privileged Rich White Boy and you remember that you hate his guts, actually.

Liza: Actual cinnamon roll. Too good, too pure. And way too good with cast iron. Could probably kill you, but wouldn’t - unless you wake the baby.

Lydia: Would absolutely rewrite her horoscope if she didn’t agree with it. Probably a Gemini.

Lucille: The ethereal photograph you take by moonlight to discover by day it’s that someone put a Bratz doll on a gravestone. But is it really? May the odds be ever in your favor.

Martha: Incredible. Amazing. Showstopping. No one’s quite sure how she does it. Happy with her lot in life and will crack skulls to try to ensure the same for those she cares about.

Mercy: WILL cut you if you disrespect her business, but no need, mostly. Runs the show and everyone knows it. Love language is good food. Unnaturally good. Just… eat and don’t ask.

Nathaniel: The human embodiment of the Hierophant tarot card. Okay, boomer.

Nessa: Get your disgusting bean water away from her. Leaf water only. #blessed #spoiled #gucci

Oliver: Just wants a nice respectable profession and a modest house and a cat, is that too much to ask? Yes? What about shoes? Please. His feet get cold easily.

Roger: Arrives to a fight five minutes late with Starbucks and a sword that is very pretty but functionally useless. It’s fine. He’ll be fine. He’s got twelve espresso shots in there.

Solomon: Just got here and is hating every second of it, but he tries. Actual disaster. Might also be karmically living in the universe’s chamber pot. Someone help him.

Theodosia: Has a long list of things that will see her making an excuse and shoving teacakes into her purse five minutes after she arrives. Quite possibly the founder of cancel culture.

Thomas: Appears most likely to be cannon fodder, so you try not to get attached. But you can’t help it. (Neither can anyone else.) And hey, he might surprise you.

William: Quiet and occasionally stupidly brave. Can no longer stand silver due to said bravery. Idiot. Good thing he likes the woods. Actual diamond in the ruff rough.

Windred: Might actually have died years ago. Thrives on the knowledge that no one wants to check, because that would be Rude, and they would never hear the end of it. And there are already Enough things for her to go on about if brought to her attention.

[agritecture]

Twin DeKalb brothers pay (in fresh veggies) to use home lawns

CONTENT SOURCED FROM MYAJC

Ah, front lawns. Symbol of home and nesting. Also, sweat-inducing, time-sucking money pits that make us look bad in front of the neighbors.

Which is why you might want to know about Georgia Tech-trained engineers and twin brothers Roger and Reggie Ramos of DeKalb County. They “pay” to use some of homeowners’ front lawns. The soft-spoken 34-year-old brothers kill the grass and convert the yards into money-making vegetable mini farms.

They handle the growing and harvesting, paying homeowners in $25 weekly allotments of vegetables and selling the bulk of what’s harvested to a local restaurant and at farmers markets.

Their business, Grow With The Flow LLC, works only in the Tucker area, but they say they want the idea to spread to become part of a cooperative with other would-be lawn/farm entrepreneurs. Lawnpreneurs?

The enterprise is akin to how vacation rental giant AirBnB allows homeowners to squeeze more life out of their spare bedrooms and unused basements. Which is really just part of a bigger hunger to find more uses for our non-productive assets. (I just wanted to sound all business-like.)

Got unused clothes? Consignment stores might give you cash/pennies for them. Going somewhere and have room to deliver something on the way? Atlanta-born Roadie has a system that helps you get paid for offering up space in your vehicle. Have a fire pit and extra land going unused out back? Online site Hipcamp helps you rent it out as a campsite.

Lawns offer a potentially big addition to the mix. There are 1.25 million acres of home lawns in Georgia alone, according to Clint Waltz, a University of Georgia extension specialist in turfgrass. Georgians spent $2.77 billion on their lawns just in 2006. Waltz said the total now is sure to be higher.

I told him about what the Ramos brothers are doing on just six yards in the Tucker area. (Homeowners have signed up to add seven more yards soon.)

“The turfy in me isn’t real wild about it,” Waltz said, “because it is taking grass out of the landscape.”

But he said he supports people doing what they want with their yards. Which, he told me, makes him not so much a fan of homeowners associations getting particular in dictating grass rules.

Yes, what the Ramos brothers are doing would freak out some HOA folks. Add lawns to the list of polarizing issues facing society.

I like a good lawn. In the past I pushed for a house with enough yard for me to play pick-up football games with the kids. But I can’t bring myself to pamper grass. If it’s vaguely green and not too far above the ankles, it looks fine to me, no matter how many horticultural varieties are in there.

But some of my best friends are yard manicurists. For them, mowing is meditation. Order is accomplishment.

Waltz told me he sees them all, from people with the fancy reel mowers to homeowners who “want to do the absolute minimum on a lawn they hate.”

A few years ago he and a UGA researcher studied planting winter-growing vegetables on top of lawnswith grasses that are dormant in cold weather. They called it the Edible Lawn.

But Waltz said he doesn’t think the idea of outright removing lawns and replacing them with vegetable gardens is going to catch on in a giant way. Lawns have sunk their roots too deep into single-family-home society, I guess.

None of this seems to dissuade the Ramos brothers.

They have other trends to give them confidence: the push for locally-grown and organic foods and the interest in micro farms.

They have only a quarter of an acre under cultivation so far. Yet they say their operation is almost break even and should be profitable enough to provide living wages to them and two planned hires once they hone their processes and start working the seven yards on the waiting list.

Surprising, right? Can they really make that much off of so little land?

The brothers got the idea for rented suburban yard gardens from a guy out of Canada who has operated a similar venture, Green City Acres, for years.

Roger walked me through some of the numbers, stressing that they expect to do at least four plantings a year on each plot. He said they carefully analyze everything from how long it takes them to harvest a crop on a given day to how much yield they have per row. I saw one garden where in a few rows they had planted arugula, mustard greens, bush beans, radishes, sweet peppers and beets. That still left plenty of lawn for the homeowner to mow.

Two neighbors walking by had only nice things to say about the operation.

“It’s wonderful,” said Mutsuko Johnson, who has purchased some of the Ramos’ products at a Tucker farmer’s market.

Still, her husband balked at the idea of tearing out their own struggling lawn and replacing it with a front-yard vegetable garden. They replaced the grass with planted flowers, instead.

(Reggie Ramos (left) and his twin brother, Roger Ramos, (right)) 

Homeowners like Amy Parsons and her husband initially signed up for a two-year stint in the program. They agreed to provide use of a portion of their lawn as well as some water. The brothers agreed not to grow anything illegal.

“I was a little bit nervous about offending any neighbors or freaking them out with this new garden experiment,” Parsons told me.

For six weeks, the brothers left “a big ugly tarp” on part of the yard to kill the grass below. That’s just the kind of thing that would attract an HOA. But there isn’t one for the neighborhood.

Still, Parsons told me she hasn’t heard any complaints. She shares fresh vegetables with neighbors. Walkers check on how things are growing. And her children like seeing the garden.

“Providing nourishment to people in our community is just so much more meaningful to us than the grass that we had to mow and spend fuel on and time on,” she said.

Sometimes, it’s not the grass that’s greener on the other side of the fence.

By Matt Kempner

CONTENT SOURCED FROM MYAJC

[jaeminlore]

Noble Gain and Loss // Kim Namjoon

-

the prompt: So, I’ve been thinking about this ever since the Blood Sweat & Tears MV came out… but could I request a BTS Georgian/Regency AU? Where you’re a person of nobility and Namjoon is your tutor (maybe helping prepare you for your debut?), and you two fall for each other, but it’s kind of a forbidden love, since you’re of different social classes? So I guess that would be fluff/romance with some angst?

words: 4578

category: lil bit of fluff + a load of angst

author note: this was so much fun to write! I did a lot of research for this and I found out that the regency period was happening while Korea wasn’t called the Korean Empire yet so that is why Korea is addressed as Joseon here! Also just a disclaimer, I may not be 100% historically accurate so please forgive any slip-ups.

– destinee

-

“Oomph,” a branch grazed your cheek as you climbed up a maple tree in the middle of the forest.

There was no way your adviser would find you here. After outrunning the woman who’s personality was as boring as her stringy hairstyle, you had made your way to the beautiful forest you loved to play in.

Now all you had to do was wait for an hour until she gave up the search.

Mrs. Tibet was a short, plump woman with little patience for the lady-in-waiting she was given the task of taking care of.

She had just announced a new tutor for you when you decided to make your daring escape.

How many tutors have you had, and made quit, because of your inability to never sit still?

The boring men and women who came into your life never quite appreciated your knack for adventure.

How could you learn the teachings of Plato when you could be sneaking into the servant’s quarters and stealing some of their delicious food? How could you think about proper etiquette when your love for running and climbing things gave you purple scars deemed “unladylike”?

There was no way you were going to spend another twelve hours with some boring teacher in a stuffy library. Never again.

You would stay in this tree and become a squirrel if you had to.

You had just been calculating how many acorns you would have to eat to survive, when you heard the unmistakable voice of your adviser.

“Lady Y/n! If you do not get down here this instant I will climb that tree myself and drag you down by your hair!”

You pressed the palm of your hand to your mouth to suppress your giggles. Mrs. Tibet was known for her short fuse, and you, in turn, were known for testing that fuse daily.

“Young lady, your new tutor is hear and you need to greet him.”

You peeked through the leaves. Your adviser stood on the forest floor with her hands on her hips. Beside her was a man who looked only a few years older than you. He was foreign, you could tell by the shape of his eyes. His hair was an unnatural blond color that didn’t match his dark eyebrows. You wondered what he had done to make it that way.

His attire was just like every tutor before him: plain black bottoms with a crisp white shirt. Your own attire was annoying and irritating. The dress you wore was heavy from the multiple layers, and your now-ripped stockings itched your legs. The corset your servant had put you in this morning felt as if it was crushing at least four of your ribs.

Jealousy bubbled in your heart as you wished to wear the clothes he was wearing.

“Y/n Y/l/n!”

You sighed at the serious tone in her voice and began to climb down the tree. Every time Mrs. Tibet used your first name and your surname, it was time to stop playing around.

Still, you didn’t have to surrender happily. You trudged over to the pair, purposely getting mud in the seams of your cloth boots.

The frown on Mrs. Tibet’s face was satisfying. You stood in front of the pair and curtsied clumsily. “Good day.”

“Y/n,” Mrs. Tibet’s voice held a warning in it’s tone. “This is Kim Namjoon. He’s a scholar from the Joseon Kingdom and you have been given a wonderful opportunity to study under his care.”

You looked at the man. Now only a few feet apart, you could see his embellished features. His dark brown eyes met your colored ones and he offered you a soft smile.

Clearing your throat, you remembered to keep up your facade. “I don’t want a tutor,” you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Y/n, Namjoon is one of the youngest scholars of our age. He studied philosophy and even taught himself English. You won’t get a better tutor anywhere else.”

Your lip curled in distaste. “You studied? For fun?”

Namjoon smiled toothily, “I love learning. I believe that knowledge is a gift and something to be appreciated.”

You snorted.

With a smirk, Namjoon addressed your rude outburst, “You think I’m wrong.”

“I know you’re wrong. Having a tutor is the most boring thing on this earth.”

“I’ll prove to you that it isn’t,” his smile had taken a turn to be labeled as annoying.

You stuck your chin in the air stubbornly and walked past him, back to your house to get cleaned up.

-

You weren’t a princess by any means. You were simply a Lady, because your father was a Lord under the king.

The job you had was to always be prim and proper to represent the fine women of England. You were to walk, talk, eat, sit, cry, laugh, dress, learn, and listen all in ways that were proper enough for a lady.

The ending goal was that you would be proper enough to gain the attention of another noble of wealth, so that both pedigree and greed would be satisfied.

The word proper was never in your vocabulary, however. So you showed up to your first lesson with Namjoon an hour late, hoping to make him angry.

You did this with all of your tutors. They would get tired of your misbehaving and eventually quit to teach a more cooperative student. It was a plan that had yet to fail.

Which is exactly why your smile faltered a bit to see Namjoon sitting quietly behind his desk, reading a book contently.

Your frown worsened, “I didn’t think you would still be here.”

Namjoon jumped at your voice, knocking over a candle and causing the edge of his book to light on fire. Using his hand, he snuffed the flames quickly before muttering, “Not again.”

Unable to contain it, you began laughing. “What do you mean •Not Again•? Does this happen often?”

Your tutor smiled in embarrassment. “I am really good at breaking things and knocking things over.”

“Maybe you could accidentally burn all of my books and then we could go outside.” You suggested.

Namjoon grinned at you, “Nice try, Y/n.” Then he grabbed a pile of books off of the desk. “But what if we go outside to do our lesson?”

“Really?” You rose your eyebrows and smiled widely.

“As long as you listen to my lesson, I don’t see why not.” Namjoon shrugged. You followed him as he walked out of the study and towards the door that led to the backyard.

Behind that door was your freedom. You could barely contain your excitement as you walked beside Namjoon.

“As long as you listen to me,” Namjoon said as he opened the door. The sunlight shone against your face as he continued, “If you get behind on your studies, we have to come back in this extremely stuffy room. We don’t want that, do we?”

“Of course not,” you assured him. “Now let’s go!”

Without thinking, you grabbed his large hand and pulled him into the warm weather.

“Woah!” Namjoon held tighter to his books as you pulled him closer to your favorite willow tree.

“Let’s study here.” You said happily.

Namjoon was coming to realize just how happy-go-lucky you were. It was going to be a chore to turn you into the lady your parents wanted you to be. A lady who would marry a man of wealth and power.

“Okay, today we’ll have to practice arithmetic.” Namjoon gave you an apologetic smile.

You sighed, looking over at the open field.

“If you get this lesson done you can stay out for an hour before our tea lesson.” Namjoon tempted you.

You agreed almost right away, lifting your skirts above your knees and sitting cross-legged onto the grass.

“You shouldn’t do that,” Namjoon scolded you. “A lady must keep her skirt below her ankles. She should also sit daintily with her ankles crossed.”

“Why?” you pulled out a blade of grass and poked a hole through it.

“Because it’s proper.”

“Why is it proper?”

“Because if you show above your knees you might encourage improper thoughts.”

“What if I don’t care?” You sent Namjoon a mischievous smirk.

“You have to care,” he insisted, although you noticed his ears turn a bright shade of red. “Your eighteenth birthday is coming up and you will be wed to a man of noble birth. You will be expected to be proper.”

You rolled your eyes, “Whatever.”

“Let’s just start our lesson.” Namjoon said to avoid any other arguments.

-

“I absolutely hate this,” you looked down at the dress you were wearing.

You were currently getting fitted for a new dress, while Namjoon simultaneously tried to read to you the works of William Wordsworth from behind the dressing screen.

Obviously you weren’t listening to him, as you kept complaining about your dress. “Why can’t I wear trousers like you?”

“Because you’re a lady, Y/n, we’ve been over this.”

The tailor tightened your corset at that moment, and you swore you saw stars. “We’ll have to put you on a lighter diet,” she mumbled to herself, pinching your skin lightly.

Namjoon continued to read some words you didn’t understand, yet you tried to focus on his voice. Maybe it would distract you from the constricted feeling in your abdomen.

Now, listening to his soothing voice, you picked up on the little accent he still had from home. Some of the words were harder for him to pronounce, yet he made no complaint.

It made you take a mental step back and shame yourself. Namjoon was far away from his home, in a new culture and a new language just to teach you.Of course, your parents were paying him the best, but what is money when you have a family back home who love and miss you?

“Namjoon, what is life like where you live?”

You waited for his answer as patiently as you could. “It’s similar to your England, except it’s influenced by Asian culture, obviously.” He said the last word to himself quietly, as if scolding himself, making you smile.

“I want details. What are the ladies like over there?”

“Oh,” Namjoon’s voice slowed from behind the screen, as if he was picking his next words carefully. “They are beautiful, of course. Most of them marry within the court or become a woman belonging to the king.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Why can’t we just decide what we want to be like the men?”

“Don’t speak like that!” Your tailor scolded you.

“She is allowed to ask whatever questions she wants in my lessons,” Namjoon said calmly from behind the screen. “It is my job to help her understand why she is doing what she is doing, after all.”

Your tailor scowled as you gave her a satisfied smile. Then you turned to the shadow behind the screen, “Thanks, Joonie.”

“Joonie?” he sounded offended.

“Yes.” You answered with confidence. “That’s you’re new nickname.”

“We’ll discuss your question after the fitting,” was all the Namjoon said.

The next hour was quiet, with you listening to Namjoon read. It was better that way, so that you could take the time to control your breathing. The corset was far too tight, but it was part of your daily clothes, and you had to get used to it.

“Done,” the tailor announced.

You looked down at the dress. It was a peach color, with lace and frills in modest places. Your… um… assets were on full display. The most uncomfortable feeling ran through your body. This wasn’t you. This wasn’t what you liked.

“How do you like it, Mr. Kim?” The tailor folded back the screen and Namjoon looked up from his book.

His eyes traced over you dress slowly before he looked at you.

“I think it’s beautiful,” he said, catching your uncertain gaze, “but it isn’t you.”

He waited for the tailor to exit the room before walking up to you. “You know you can’t choose your future.”

You narrowed your eyes, “I know you don’t really believe that.”

Namjoon diverted his eyes, “It doesn’t matter what I believe. I’m not teaching you my beliefs. I’m teaching you the beliefs of your people. Your society.”

“I wish you wouldn’t,” you noticed his eyes soften as you spoke with broken resolve. “I wish you would help me break out of these stupid requirements.”

“I’m sorry I can’t.” Namjoon reached out and touched your shoulder. “I wish I could. With all my heart I wish I could.”

-

“So I have to know how to talk to a man properly?” You rolled your eyes.

You were lying with your back against the grass.

Your tutor of three months only smiled. He was now used to your attitude. Every day you had never failed to try and get him to stop teaching you. To bug him for hours with unanswerable questions, and yet every day he decided to come back. He decided to teach you not only how to do things, but why it had to be done.

Eventually, you grew content with him as you tutor and friend.

Now the only thing you fought with him about was why you had to get married to someone you didn’t love. Ever since the day at the tailer’s, you had never stopped bugging Namjoon to help you find another purpose for your life.

He always patiently tried to explain that marriage wasn’t a privilege. It was a duty of noble men and women to get married to someone who could take them further in life. It was no longer something for people to do when they were in love.

“Your birthday banquet is three months away. If a man isn’t interested in you, you’re parents will choose someone for you. There will be many rich bachelors there and I know you would rather pick one than have your mother do it for you.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “Can’t I just become a tutor like you?”

Namjoon smiled widely, showing off his dimples. “You would teach other people the subjects you hate?”

“I don’t hate poetry,” you said. He was sitting beside you, watching your face as you spoke to him.

You looked at him, the sun shining behind his head, creating a halo of light. “You look ethereal.”

“Me?” Namjoon’s ears turned red. “No, I don’t.”

“Yeah, you do.” You sat up, not noticing that you and Namjoon were mere inches away.

He did however, and his eyes wandered over your face as you explained his sunny halo.

“Y/n…” he tried to interrupt you, his breath catching as you reached your hand up to touch his hair. You only noticed his discomfort when he grabbed your wrist.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, completely clueless.

Namjoon cleared his throat, “Let’s just get to the lesson.”

“Oh, okay.” You stood up carefully, watching your dress as you had learned.

You waited for him to get up as well. He offered you his arm and the two of you walked back into your large manor. One of the servants, Anna, stood in the kitchen, rolling out dough for some fruit pastries.

Namjoon pulled you away before you could sneak a spoonful of raspberry jam.

“We’re going to go learn our manners.” He said with a pointed look towards you.

You sighed, “Ah, yes, manners.”

Back in Namjoon’s study, he stood behind his desk and you sat in front of it. “Okay, now pretend I’m a boy you’re interested in and talk to me like we’ve practiced.”

You leaned your chin against your arm and droned in a bored tone, “Hello, Mr. Rich Man, has the night treated you well?”

Namjoon assumed his own character as the lord you were interested in. “It has, especially now that I’m talking to you.”

He grabbed your hand gently and kissed your knuckles.

You giggled in an over-exaggerated way, and Namjoon knew it. He tried to hide his smile as you covered your mouth with your hand, “Oh, you flatter me, Mr. Kim.”

The two of you seemed to recognize your mistake instantly. Usually, you called him “Rich Man,” but you had let his real name slip.

He cleared his throat and tried to keep the small talk going. “I only speak the truth.”

You bowed your head and groaned. “Do we have to do this? You speak so eloquently and you teach me so many deep thoughts. I hate seeing you speak shallow words like this.

“We have to, Y/n. It’s preparation.” Namjoon said ever-so-patiently.

“I don’t want to prepare.” You confessed. “Namjoon, I want to travel the world like you and learn about other cultures and other ways of life. You could teach me your language!”

Namjoom smiled sadly, “Y/n, you know you can’t.”

Without warning, you burst into tears. Immediately, Namjoon knelt down in front of you, handing you a handkerchief. You giggled through your tears as you dabbed under your eyes. The handkerchief was white and lacy, like that of a women’s.

“Your face will swell,” he warned.

“I don’t care,” you replied like you always did. Then you threw the handkerchief at him and used your hands to wipe your snot. “I’m not a lady. It’s too hard and I have no passion for it. You read me all of these stories about people who break away from their expected positions. Why can’t I be one of them?”

Namjoon used his thumb to wipe away your tears, “Because they’re just stories, Y/n.”

“I don’t want them to be stories.” You whispered.

“I know,” he said softly. “I’m sorry it can’t be that way for you.”

-

One month until your birthday banquet. One month for you to accept your fate.

The past month, Namjoon had been nice enough to make your lessons focus less on romance and more of philosophy. He taught you about current affairs and wars. He taught you about politics and economics. Anything that took your mind off of your unsettling future.

But he still had to teach you your lessons for the banquet. One of these was to teach you traditional ballroom dancing.

Which is why you stood in the middle of the ballroom in an itchy dress while Namjoon explained the basic steps of dancing to you.

“Have you got it?” he asked after he repeated the steps to you.

You looked away from the window, where you were staring at the rain that was falling outside.

“Yeah, I’ve got it.” You lied.

He knew you were lying. However, being used to it, he simply ignored it and walked in front of you.

You watched him as he grabbed your small hand in his big one. It was soft and warm and you unconsciously linked your fingers with his.

“Now what do I do?” You asked.

“Now, you rest your other hand on my shoulder.”

“Like this?”

“Mhm,” he hummed. Then he stepped closer to you and placed his hand on the small of your back.

“Now, we dance.” He whispered.

You followed his lead as he spoke the steps out loud. “One, two, three, four. One, two, three–”

He stepped on your foot and winced. “Sorry.”

You laughed, “You’re supposed to be teaching me, Joonie.”

“I’m sorry,” he chuckled, looking down at your feet. “You know I’m clumsy.”

“You’ve got to teach me this by the banquet!”

“I know, don’t worry.” Namjoon smiled down at you. “I’ve got you.”

Your heart stopped at those words, taking them seriously for a second. “Do you mean that?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

Namjoon pulled you sideways as the two of you completed the steps. He seemed to be completely distracted, as if he didn’t even hear his answer, “Of course I do.”

You smiled shyly. “Joonie?”

“Yeah?”

You looked at him, studying his face as you answered. “Will we still be friends after I get engaged?”

Namjoon stopped dancing abruptly. The two of you stumbled a bit, so he reached out and grabbed your waist to steady both of you before going back to his original position.

“What is it?” You studied his face. “What’s wrong?”

Namjoon’s eyes met yours, “You know we can’t. Once you have a fiancé, I’ll need go back home.”

Your gaze drifted down to his mouth. His deep voice had always mesmerized you. It could lull you to sleep. Except right now, it was extremely attractive. Perhaps you were staring for too long because all of a sudden Namjoon’s face was too close for comfort.

You looked up into his eyes, only to see him staring at your lips.

“But I want to,” you said quietly. His warm breath fanning your lips was distracting you way too much so all you could do was say what was on your mind. “I don’t want to be apart from you. You teach me so much and your my only friend. You take your time with me and always try to lessen the blow of all my annoying responsibilities. What if I don’t want to get married to some rich bachelor, Namjoon? What if I want to get married to you?”

Suddenly, his lips were on yours. He let go of your hand and grabbed your waist, pulling you flush against him. You grabbed his shoulders and lifted yourself onto your toes to try and reach him better.

His lips were soft and velvety, desperate in their effort to convey what he felt for you. Tears threatened to leak from your eyes as you held him closer, tighter. There was no other position you wanted to be in then right here, in Namjoon’s arms, with his lips caressing yours.

Blood rushed to your cheeks as you felt Namjoon begin to move away.

“Y/n…” he addressed you, his voice raspy and low. “You can’t say things like that. It makes me want to run away with you.”

“Would that be so wrong?” You asked, your lips brushing against his once more.

He sighed sadly, “It would be.”

With your forehead against his, you sighed. “I know, I know. But just for a moment, just a small minute, can we be in love unconditionally? Just for a moment. The rest of the dance, and then we can forget all about our true feelings.”

“For the rest of the dance,” Namjoon permitted. You knew he felt the same emotions as you, maybe even stronger. However, he was also in a trying position, since this was his job and you were only his student. He never should’ve let his heart guide the way he taught you.

Now you two were dancing, swaying left and right to the tune Namjoon hummed in your ear. He was holding you far too close for a simple dance partner, yet you clung to him like an anchor to the ocean floor.

If this was your first and last dance, it was going to be a good one.

-

One day until your birthday banquet. One day until your life would change forever.

You held onto the back of your bed post while three of your servants tightened your corset. You hadn’t had a proper meal in weeks just to fit into the blasted thing.

Still, you obediently let them dress you in your heavy, extravagant gown. Your head felt heavy as well, with curls pinned up this way and that. Your makeup was darker than usual, since more eyes would be on you.

Your future husband would be at the banquet. One of those men would be one you had to live with for the rest of your life. He would father your children, he would be the one you had to depend on.

There was only one problem: he wasn’t Namjoon.

After the dance lesson, the two of you tried to distance yourselves from each other. Nothing ever worked. Namjoon still made you laugh like no one else. You still held his hand when the two of you went for walks outside. He still found a way to kiss you under the light of the moon, when you were the only two awake.

You only fell more and more in love with the man you couldn’t have. In five short months he had taught you many things about responsibility and growing up. In five short months he had taught you how to love someone with all of your heart. It was obvious that you had to obey your parents and marry someone of a higher social status than a scholastic tutor. You understood that concept no matter how much you opposed it.

Once the banquet started, you were ordered to mingle with all of the guests and try to find someone you were compatible with.

In the end, a man named Robert seemed to be the only guy even close to intelligent.

When two of you danced, you couldn’t help but compare the feel of his shoulders, the gaze of his eyes, the smile on his face, to Namjoon.

The rest of the night you wore a frown on your face. When your parents announced your engagement to Lord Robert, silent tears fell from your eyes.

Your fiancé handed you a handkerchief, but he gave you no smart remarks like Namjoon would’ve. He didn’t hold your hand with a comforting squeeze every now and then like Namjoon always did when you were overwhelmed.

Because he wasn’t in love with you, and you weren’t in love with him. This was just a business deal to gain power and money. There was no such thing as love this day in age.

You should’ve known that.

-

“Congratulations on your engagement!” Mrs. Tibet gave you a wide smile the next day, as you walked down the hall to the dining room. “You will start lessons for the wedding soon. How to be a good wife and a good mother. Namjoon will be ready to give you these lessons, of course. Since he is your favorite tutor, your mother arranged for him to stay longer than originally planned.

You looked down. The very sound of his name made you want to run into his arms and escape this unholy world you were forced to live in. “That won’t be necessary,” you choked out. “I believe I should have a woman teach me how to do a woman’s job.”

“But, Miss Y/n, Namjoon has been the best at teaching you how to become a proper lady. Surely his knowledge applies to being a wife and a mother as well. He reads many books on every subject, why wouldn’t he be the best?”

“I can’t. I can’t have Namjoon as my tutor any more. Send him back to Joseon.” You said.

The sad look in your eyes must’ve translated well with Mrs. Tibet, for she only nodded her head. “Of course, Lady Y/n. As you wish.”

-

You didn’t see Namjoon off the day he left. You didn’t speak of him at all after that.

Although no one knew what had happened, many of the servants speculated the truth; that the rich maiden had fallen in love with a lowly tutor.

You had given your all to someone you couldn’t have, and now you were left empty and cold, unable to feel a love as pure as the one you had with Kim Namjoon ever again.

~the end~

[i-choose-the-danger]

All Work And No Play

Oh dear... this was the first fic like this ever that I wrote. ^_^ Lifelong Trekkie with an absolute soft spot for #McKirk friendship, and that goes for both TOS and new. :)

Title: All Work And No Play

Pairing: Kirk and McCoy friendship

Summary: I wrote this with the Pine/Urban pairing in mind. Kirk and McCoy have been roommates at Starfleet Academy for about a year. Leonard wants to study for his finals, but Jim wants to hang out and have fun. Jim decides to amuse himself by annoying his best friend, and Leonard teaches him what happens when you play with fire...

Leonard McCoy was in his dorm room sitting cross-legged on his bed, hunched over the PADD in his lap as he read over his notes for an upcoming final exam. Strike that, Leonard was trying to read... and failing miserably. His roommate, Jim Kirk, was making it difficult for him to concentrate. Jim was always a bundle of energy that couldn't be contained for very long and he was driving Leonard crazy to the point where the doctor was starting to wonder if it were at all possible to get his own room this late in the term.

At first, the distractions were subtle. Jim would be chewing his food open-mouthed like an animal, the crunching and slopping noises grating away at McCoy's nerves. Or Jim would be absent-mindedly tapping away in sync with a rhythm that was playing out in his head as he read through articles on his own PADD.

And then the distractions became far less subtle. There was the music, or what Jim referred to as music. Leonard thought it was just noise that had the same effect on his nerves as slamming his head into a wall. Leonard had managed to convince Jim to use headphones instead of blasting the music throughout their shared room, but the purpose of the device was lost on Jim as he sang along... loudly.

"Got arrested at the Mardi Gras for jumping on a float. My man MCA's got a beard like a billy goat. Oowah oowah is my disco call. MCA, hu-huh, I'm gettin' rope, y'all. Routines I bust, rhymes I write. And I'll be busting routines and rhymes all night..." Feeling that he was being watched, Jim stopped singing and slowly lifted his head, turning it to the right as he lowered the book he was flipping pages through. He saw Leonard staring at him with a look that could kill, one brow quirked so high that it nearly kissed his hairline. Jim pulled the small headphone bud from his right ear and tilted his head up towards McCoy. "'Sup?"

"Could you, I don't know, maybe STOP squawking so I can concentrate? I asked you to use those so that it would be quiet in here." Leonard spoke calmly, yet sternly.

"Oh. Was I... out loud? I'm sorry. I forgot you have a big exam coming up that 736353 hours of going over notes wasn't enough studying for," Jim replied, sarcasm heavy in his voice.

Jim was quickly growing restless. If only he could find a way to get Leonard to take a break. The older man had been locked away in their dorm for nearly a week straight with his nose stuck in his notes. Jim normally had no problem going out on his own or finding a woman of any species to spend the evening with, but things were different since he'd met McCoy. Kirk didn't have many people in his life he had ever considered friends, or close by any means. The connection he and McCoy had, he couldn't explain it. He just knew they were meant to be in each other's lives, for good. This was a friendship he never wanted to lose. Finals week was stressful enough on its own and Jim wanted to take their minds off things. This seemed like as good a moment as any for one of his new favorite pastimes - driving his best friend crazy.  

"Hey, Bones?" Silence. He stretched out on his back across his bed and looked at his roommate. "Bones." He watched as the doctor continued to ignore him and stare intently down at his notes. "Boooooooones..." Jim's lips twitched up into a smile as he saw McCoy's brow furrow. Jim found it oddly amusing discovering new ways to drive McCoy crazy. "Bones... Bones... Bones Bones Bones Bones Bones Bo-"

"WHAT!?" Leonard yelled, shaking his PADD in his hands and now staring at Jim with fully-open eyes. His patience was thinning to the point where if it were tangible it would be completely see-through.

"Whatcha doin'?" Jim asked with a wide grin.

"Trying very hard to refrain from dosing you with a tranquilizer that could knock you on your ass for a month." Leonard pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed silently. "Can't you go harass whatever girlfriend you have this week or something and let me at least finish this chapter?"

"Tranq me?! Hah... You wouldn't." Jim narrowed his bright blue eyes.

"Try me, kid. I'd knock you out before you knew what hit ya," his roommate replied, Georgian drawl coming through ever so slightly as it tended to do when he was stressing.

Never let it be said that Jim Kirk ever backed down from a challenge.

*crumple crumple crumple* *flick*

A balled-up piece of paper hit McCoy in the back of the head. He took a deep breath, exhaled slowly through his nose and shifted his focus back to his PADD. He heard Jim chuckle.

*crumple crumple crumple* *flick*

Another scrunched ball of paper hit the side of Leonard's head, fell to his leg, and bounced and onto the floor. He clenched his jaw, exhaled again through his nose and continued reading his notes. He refused to so much as make eye contact with Jim.

*crumple crumple crumple* *flick*

A third paper ball crashed into his ear. McCoy closed his eyes and ran a hand down over his face. He tried silently counting to ten to calm himself. He was not going to let Jim get to him this time. One... Two... Three... Four... Five... Six... Se-

*crumple crumple crumple* *flick*

The fourth ball connected with Leonard's temple.

"Damn it, man. That is IT!"

In one swift move, Leonard dropped his PADD at the foot of his bed, pushed himself up and lunged directly onto Jim's bed. Jim's eyes widened in horror and he tossed his book into the air, trying to scramble into an upright position to bolt out of the way. Leonard was too quick and landed right on top of him, straddling his hips. Leonard's hands reached to either side of Kirk's head, grasping onto the pillows around it. Jim held his hands up defensively and flinched. He'd never been afraid of Leonard before, but the wild look in the man's hazel eyes had him slightly panicked.

"Why. Must. You. Keep. Bothering. Me. When. I'm trying. To study?!" McCoy accented every word by smacking Jim in either side of his head with one of the pillows. He then whacked them against both sides of Jim's head a few more times for good measure.

"Jesus, you look like a madman." Jim was smiling widely to where his eyes were squinting as he dodged the repeated hits. "You've been studying all week. It's kind of sad. I want us to hang out, have some fun, laugh a little. You owe it to yourself to let go for a while. You're stressing yourself out. Look at you, a grown man attacking a poor defenseless kid with pillows. All this studying has taken a serious toll on your sanity. Come on now, you're crushing me with your big ass. Get up." Jim pushed his palms lightly against the doctor's knees, which were locked around his hips.

"Big ass? Watch it!" Leonard poked at Jim's side as he spoke and raised an eyebrow at his best friend's reaction. Jim had responded as if he'd just been electrocuted. And did he just... squeak? Kirk would deny it til his last breath, but he definitely squeaked.

They stared at each other for a moment in silence before the corners of McCoy's mouth turned up into an evil smile. That smile completely unnerved Jim and he didn't like the idea of what was most likely going to happen next. He didn't like it at all.

"B-Bones... no. L-let go." Jim tried to slide himself out from McCoy's grip by pushing against his knees again, but his wrists were quickly grabbed and easily clenched into one of the doctor's hands. Jim shivered. "Oh God. I'm sorry. You were right. You should study. I won't bother you. I promise."

Leonard had never heard Jim beg before. He noticed Jim's breathing was now shaky and his bright eyes were as wide as saucers with what looked to be fear.

"Why Jim, I've never seen you look this shaken up before. Somethin' wrong?" he asked in mock concern, continuing to hold Jim's wrists and smile down at him.

"Wrong? Of course not." On the contrary, something was very wrong. Jim's heart was pounding so heavily that he was amazed Leonard couldn't hear it beating. Jim had also rarely seen him smile like this, and it was freaking him out. "I just realize now how important your grades are to you and I feel bad for bothering you."  

"Oh like hell you do. Something tells me you're lyin' to me." McCoy leaned down so that his nose was only an inch from Kirk's own as he narrowed his eyes. "I really hate being lied to." He watched the color drain from Jim's face and felt him struggle to free himself. Jim wasn't going anywhere though. "I think... that I need to teach you a lesson."

The reaction was instantaneous. The second the fingers of Leonard's free hand latched onto Jim's ribs, the kid let out a yelp and started squirming. Jim's eyes were shut tight and his torso was jerking from side to side as he scrunched his features. His legs were kicking out as much as Leonard's weight on them would allow.

"Cut it out! Let go!" Jim was begging through gritted teeth, trying as hard as he could to keep himself from laughing. If Leonard couldn't get that reaction out of him, then he'd stop. At least Jim hoped that he would stop.

"Oh come on, Jim. Didn't you just say you wanted to laugh?" Leonard moved his fingers up Jim's side and continued spidering them along Jim's ribcage. Every poke, prod, and scratch resulted in Jim continuing to flop around like a fish out of water while small squeaks and gasps escaped him.

"Screw you!" Jim growled. His face was already blushing red from the combination of trying to hold in his laughter and the rising embarrassment he felt from his current predicament.

"Well if you're going to get nasty..." Leonard took Jim's wrists back into each hand and then pinned them both under his knees, leaving both of his own hands free. This caused Jim to struggle harder and almost succeed in bucking himself free. Almost. Leonard placed both of his hands in claw formation over Jim's ribcage and paused as Jim let out a terrified squeal. "Any last words, kid?"

"I don't suppose a heart-felt apology and an extremely desperate plea for my life would help at all." Kirk swallowed hard and tried to mentally brace himself. He was hating this. He was supposed to be good-naturedly driving McCoy crazy, not the other way around. His best friend was going to torture him. And possibly kill him, judging by the look in his eyes. This was bad. This was very very bad. Jim might have had a chance at survival if he were able to defend himself, but Leonard had him completely and securely pinned.

"Gee, I don't know. Let's hear what you've got," McCoy replied with a shrug. He quirked a brow up in anticipation of Jim's response and tilted his head slightly, pursing his lips into a knowing smirk.

"Okay... okay. I'm really really sorry that I - AHAHAHAHAHAHA! God dahahahahahamn it! No, waihaihaihait!" Kirk's apology was cut short by McCoy digging into his sides without warning. Jim could barely move pinned down as he was, but it didn't stop him from trying. Every time he attempted to talk reason with McCoy, the only sounds that left his mouth were mixtures of squeals, embarrassing giggles, and booming laughter. "Stahahap! I said I was sor-HAHAHAHAHA NO, NOT THERE! NO!" The doctor's thumbs were drilling into his hip bones and it was quickly driving him towards insanity. Jim bolted upright and tried to curl himself into a ball. "BONES! OhmyGodstopstopstopIcan'tholyshit NOHOHO!" He was ridiculously ticklish everywhere, but his hips were by far his worst spot. Jim couldn't function worth a damn if his hips were attacked. He fell back against the bed, arched his back, and tried desperately to yank his arms out from under McCoy's knees short of dislocating his shoulders from the sheer force. Jim growled through his laughter and made weak attempts to buck his roommate off of him. The more Leonard scribbled into his hips, the higher Jim's laugh sounded. "Shihihihihit. I can't! Ahahahaha! You've got to stop!"

"Good God, man. You must be the most ticklish person I've ever met." Leonard paused his assault for a moment to let Jim catch his breath. "I should just do this every time you bother me. It'd sure relieve a lot of the frustration you cause me."

"Jesus, no!" Jim spat out in between the large gulps of air he was inhaling. The thought of ever being in this position again made Jim's skin crawl. He dropped his head back against his crumpled pillows and let it fall to the side as he continued to take in air. "You can't do that. You'd kill me. And you'd be all alone and lonely."

"I'd have peace and quiet!" Leonard reached up and scratched at Jim's neck, laughing as the younger man tried to free his pinned arms to scrunch his shoulders and shield his sensitive neck. "Oh this is too good. I'm barely touching you!" Leonard reached behind himself and dug his fingers into the backsides of Jim's knees and was not disappointed in the high-pitched yelp that Jim let out. "You're right. I should have fun like this more often."

"This is NOT what I meaheheheant and you know it! Come on, you've mahahade your point!"

"All you had to do was let me study in peace. You have no one to blame but yourself." Leonard clawed his hands into the hollows of Jim's underarms and chuckled as Jim's arms clamped down with a vice-like grip. He let the tips of his fingers repeatedly graze against Jim's underarms and watched Jim continue to squirm underneath him.

"ACK! Sohohon of a bitch, come ON!" Jim begged. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take. As a result of the constant wiggling and struggling, his thin grey t-shirt had ridden halfway up his chest and his jeans were now riding low on his hips. His entire body went rigid and he stared wide-eyed at McCoy's fingers as they landed on the bare tanned skin of his stomach.

"Nonononoletmegopleasepleaseplease," Jim rambled out. He reflexively sucked in his stomach. And then he outright shrieked as those fingers slowly dragged across his skin. Jim was in ticklish agony. At this point, Jim had been laughing so loud and long that his voice had gone hoarse. His hair was damp with sweat and matted to his forehead. His cheeks were now bright red and wet with the tears that had escaped his eyes from laughing so hard. He no longer had the strength to put up a fight. "Didn't you take an oath to - ahahaha - do no harm?" he asked through his continued attempts to squirm away from Leonard's touches.

"Your heart rate is slightly elevated but nowhere near a dangerous level. Your breathing is a little rough, but manageable. From what I see, you're in no physical pain. I think the only thing wounded is your pride, and that'll heal just fine. Besides, this is what you wanted. I've stopped studying. I'm hanging out with you. I'm having fun. We're laughing. Well, you're laughing much more than I am." McCoy could see that his best friend was almost completely tired out, which is what he was working towards. A tired-out Jim was a quiet Jim who left him alone. Reaching up to go for Jim's neck again, he pulled back his hand quickly after Jim's teeth had connected with the flesh above his knuckles. "Ow! You bit me, you little brat! Now you've done it."

"Oh shit, I didn't mean to... Oh God, DON'T!" The doctor's thumbs were drilling into Jim's hipbones again and his fingers were curled around Jim's sides, repeatedly sending ticklish shockwaves through the poor kid's body. Jim only had the strength now to weakly giggle. He desperately bucked his hips from side to side in futile attempts to dislodge himself from McCoy's grip. He'd reached his breaking point. "I GIVE! I GIVE!" At that moment, Jim felt the sensations stop and he collapsed into his mattress breathing heavily.  

"Damned right, you give," Leonard told him. He released Jim's hands from under his knees and climbed off the bed, now standing over him with his arms folded. "That'll learn ya to mess with me."

Jim curled himself into a fetal position and rubbed his palms against his ribs and hips to try to rid himself of the tickly feelings that still sizzled deep within his nerves. Leonard just let out a low chuckle, shaking his head at the sight before him as he sat on the edge of his own bed.

"Oh my God," Jim choked out. He closed his eyes and crossed his arms over his face as he tried to catch his breath again. "That was the worst half hour of my life." He licked at his lips and swallowed hard. His muscles were still involuntarily twitching as he laid there. "I almost died. You almost killed me. I saw a white light."

Leonard had already situated himself comfortably back on his own bed and had gone back to reading through his notes. He looked over at Jim, who was still letting out residual giggles as he sprawled out on his bed.

"Don't be so dramatic," Leonard said as he looked back to the PADD in his lap. "It wasn't even five minutes. And you'll live... as long as you don't bother me again. The mighty Jim Kirk... begging for his life as he giggles like a toddler. Now I know how to keep you in line."

"Sleep with one eye open, old man. Payback's a bitch," Jim replied. His arms dropped down to his sides as his muscles started to relax. His eyelids fluttered shut and his breathing slowed down to a normal pace.

Leonard's body tensed up at Jim's words. The thought of Jim retaliating hadn't even crossed his mind. Leonard glanced back over at him and exhaled in relief. Jim had completely nodded out. That meant peace and quiet... for now.

[anneedmonds]

Hotel Review: The Newt In Somerset

It normally takes me about two years to get around to writing up my hotel reviews (it’s well over a year, I think, since I visited the Bedruthan in Cornwall and I still have the notes fresh in my mind, as though I visited yesterday!) but I’m trying to be more organised and proactive and – why not? – reactive and so TA-DAH! here we are with a post that’s actually fresh in my mind and not from my ever-growing backlog of drafts.

What an intro.

Still there?

Great. You don’t want to miss this one, especially if you enjoy the odd luxury weekend away somewhere rural but refined. Polished rural, I like to call it. It’s a thing. It’s all the bits of the countryside that people who are not from the countryside want to see, packaged up with deep, hot baths and fifty types of artisnal gin in the bar and a boot room stacked high with Hunter wellies. Hotels that are surrounded by gorgeous countryside, viewable through huge windows from a comfy chair, but that also have paths.

Because nobody would come to the real countryside, not for a luxury break. There’s nothing relaxing about a constant barrage of mud, psychopathic tractor drivers and wifi signal so weak and frustrating it makes you want to go at your own face with a cheese grater.

Obviously there are many good things about the countryside (clean air, slower pace of life, actual space), all I’m saying is that these country hotels (the good ones) manage to parcel up the country life experience so that you’d be forgiven for believing that anyone outside of the M25 spends most of the day either leaning against an AGA or throwing more logs on the fire. Rug on lap, dog at feet, glass of gin in hand and the firelight gently flickering as you read a romantic novel.

Anyway, the Newt In Somerset is the latest polished rural country house and by God do they do it well. This isn’t a hotel, it’s a destination – you could spend an entire day just going about the gardens, which are so splendid that non-guests actually pay to visit them. As a day trip.

They are magnificent, with acres of food-providing beds and orchards, wild areas, a deer park and a cutting edge, forward-thinking garden museum that you’d pay the entry price for alone.

So you have the gardens, which are an attraction in themselves, and then you have one of the most excellent spas in existence – so quiet, so instantly welcoming, so brilliantly designed – and a whole load of different places to eat and drink. Not in a “resort” sort of way, it’s not as though the place has themed restaurants popping up all over the shop, but you can climb up to the huge garden cafe that sits majestically on top op the lands, or you can have coffee in the greenhouse or dinner in the gloriously dark and sexy dining room…

The gym looks like the sort of gym very famous people would go to. I rarely mentions gyms, because WHY you would want to exercise on your relaxing break is beyond me, but this one is notable. The glass that fronts the entire building is formed from one sheet (the largest installed in the whole of Europe last year – geek fact) and it’s just spectacular. It’s no secret that I love a bit of elegant, streamlined modern architecture set against historic buildings and The Newt just do it so well.

It’s an absolute triumph in planning and design – like entering the world’s most perfect village, but if the village had been built by a perfectionist with unlimited budget. I can imagine it must have cost tens of millions of pounds. (The Daily Mail say 50 million, but hey. Pinch of salt, etc.)

And so to the main building, which is your classic Pride & Prejudice early Georgian affair, but with a cheeky little twist. In fact the twist happens before you even get through the door, because all of the woodwork (window frames, door frames) have been painted grey. It’s always a bit of a surprise when they’re not the usual off-white. Part of me hates it, that departure from the way things should be, but the other part of me admires the boldness. And it screams “we’ve done a shitload of work on this hotel – it’s basically a new build in an ancient shell!””

Which it is. The inside is immaculate, with huge panes of glass set against exposed stone walls (sound familiar? It’s like House Reno deja vu!) and bedroom walls and ceilings that are so flawlessly plastered you’d be hard pushed to tell you’re in an old house, until you go to the windows and see that they are the original sashes. The bedroom was borderline too clean for me, finish-wise – spots set into the ceiling, shining out through peepholes cut into the plasterboard, and pristine furniture, but on the other hand there’s no denying that this gives everything a really high-end feel. There’s no shabbiness – no worn leather armchair or frayed rug, none of your ubiquitous country house edge, but if there was then perhaps it would feel a little too much like the hotels that are already well established in providing a luxurious rural bolthole.

In short: go to The Newt if you’re after a countryside break. I can’t see how you’d regret it. Plenty to do, plenty to eat (and there’s a garden-to-fork philosophy, so a vast proportion of the ingredients have zero air miles and are just about as nice as you can get them) and bedrooms you’d happily live in. Make sure you do the spa and the garden museum and absolutely factor in a trip to nearby Bruton, which has the Hauser & Wirth gallery and is cute as a button. Within twenty minutes you have the market town Frome (the most “woke” town in the UK, apparently) and Wells, which is the UK’s smallest city but has an absolutely epic Cathedral. Or, you know, just lounge about at The Newt and drink their cider and eat snacks.

You can find more info on The Newt here – rooms start at £255 per night. No dogs allowed, which is also something that sets this hotel apart. Most country offerings are heaving with dogs, which is both lovely and at the same time annoying, depending on where you stand with dogs. The Newt do accept children, which is both lovely and at the same time – oh, you know the drill.

Watch my room tour at The Newt In Somerset on IGTV

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[spencerthorpe]

Elephants, rollercoasters and rockets: The Idealist visits Andrew Martin

Today’s Modern Hero is Martin Waller, founder of Andrew Martin International. We caught up with him at their very distinctive store in Walton Street, Kensington, to talk design, travel and inspiration and learn more about the eclectic and highly original Andrew Martin look.

your home tells a story of your life

One Stop Shop

Martin Waller, Founder of Andrew Martin International

IDEALIST: Martin — thanks so much for finding time to talk to us today. You’ve worked all over the world and have a number of stores and high profile clients. As fans of Walton Street, it strikes us that there’s nothing quite like shopping in London. Our shopping guides to other cities feature some great places, but our experience of Paris, say, or Madrid is that you don’t get such a concentration of designers in one street. Why do you think that is?

Martin: I think that’s true in a lot of places in the world. I actually think London is this– we have this kind of quirky, individual attitude to life and I think which is why our music industry is so successful and we’re good at those things. It’s because we hate to be told what to do.

IDEALIST: In The Idealist we feature quite a lot of interior designers and people renovating their own properties. Professional designers tell me that their buyers all want a unique look but that also they want something that tells a story about themselves. Typically people want a mix and match approach that tells a story, so they’ve got antique prints from when they got married in Italy, or let’s say they’ve got a dining table inherited from their parents. People want that kind of connection. Do you agree?

Martin: I absolutely agree. I mean your home tells a story of your life. The curious thing about fashion is people say they want individuality but everybody buys an Hermès Birkin bag. Or they all buy exactly the same Louis Vuitton thing. But in their home, that’s where they express who they are and I absolutely believe that is what being in the trade is all about. All designers are facilitators to help people tell their story.

Starting the Business

IDEALIST: So how did you get into the business?

Martin: Oh my God the question really is how do I get out! So I started in 1978 that’s a long while ago! When you’re 22 you really know everything there is to know. It’s only as you get older you find you know less and less and less and want to know more and more! So we started in Richmond and then we came here about 30 years ago.

IDEALIST: And what were you selling first?

Martin: There were always things for the home: lighting, cushions, textiles, interior designs stuff.

IDEALIST: And did you have a certain kind of customer in mind or a certain look initially or was it things that you loved?

Martin: No, things have evolved terrifically. In fact I was just writing the introduction– you know we publish this book every year called Interior Design so I was just writing the Foreword for this year and I was trying to find a word to describe our design era. We’ve had everything from midcentury to 1960s to Pop, but actually I’ve realised what we’ve been doing for the last 20 years didn’t have a label.

random shards of glass come into focus and create the overall pattern

Kaleidoscopic Designs

IDEALIST: Did you find something? Have you come up with a name?

Martin: Well the word I’d come up with is kaleidoscope. I’m sure when you did ancient Greek you’ll know the derivation of the kaleidoscope, you know about observation and beauty and shape and so on. And this idea that these random shards of glass come into focus and create the overall pattern.

Martin walks us through his latest International Design Review book which features interiors of the rich and famous from all over the world, including outstanding designers from Holland, China, South Africa, Poland and elsewhere and with spreads including Tommy Hilfiger’s New York pad on top of the old Plaza Building, the New York Yankees hospitality suite, and some amazing commercial and domestic interiors.

Martin is a tremendous history buff and reminds us that there’s nothing new about palatial interiors and awe-inspiring designs. At the peak of ancient Rome, there were something like 1.2 million people in Rome which fell to fewer than 40,000 and has only in the 20th century recovered to its Roman Empire heights. And the Dark Ages lasted for so long! A thousand years of pillaging hoards before the Renaissance!

Alongside the modern design pieces and some amazing original prints – for example of Fritz Lang’s Metropolis – the Walton Street store is to our eyes pretty unique in also selling original historical artefacts and antiquary from Roman and Egyptian times. They really are a site to behold and make a change from the midcentury design classics you see being hallowed elsewhere.

IDEALIST: Returning to the 21st Century, why do you think certain historical styles, such as High Victorian, or Georgian persist? I can see why someone with a Jacobean mansion would want to decorate it faithfully, but why are there certain looks that we seem to return to? Are there trendsetters that tell us how we should live?

Martin: Yes. I mean that’s such an interesting idea where trends emerge from and how trends become universal. They pop up in Japan and they pop up in America and Europe kind of all simultaneously. There is partly movies and magazines but trends were always there. You’re talking about Victorian houses and you can tell the difference between a Queen Anne house and a Georgian house. Even in things as big as that, you know the decade the house was built by looking at it, or likewise on the domestic scale with a teapot by its handle or its lid and its spout. There has always been this incredible fashion for the styling of things in everything.

Martin: The interesting thing is that some things haven’t changed at all like. Men still want to look like Cary Grant and girls want to look like Audrey Hepburn. These are figures from the 1950’s. This is 70 years ago. If you go 70 years back before then people dressed completely differently. But James Dean, jeans, t-shirt that’s the look people wear still wear today. Back in the 1970s, we all thought by now we would be wearing white jumpsuits and our food would come in pills. There was this TV programme: Tomorrow’s World. None of it happened, none of it happened. Even cars, what has happened to car design?

Distinctive Aesthetics

IDEALIST: I know. There’s nothing now like the Citroen DS, or Aston Martin is there. I can just about get excited if you’ve got a retro looking sports car, but in the main, once you’re getting into the bigger cars they’re all very samey. Even the new VW Beetle.

So give me a feel for your kind of customers. When they come here are they looking for single pieces or are they looking to renovate a whole home?

Martin: Well of course you can’t generalise. There are lots of people who just want to wander in and find some strange thing or just buy an unusual Guatemalan textile, cushions or retro poster. Naturally because we do lots of homes and major projects, we see people who have an empathy with our aesthetic or think we have an empathy with their aesthetic.

IDEALIST: So what would you say has been your most unusual thing that you’ve found that you wanted to sell, or your most unusual request?

Martin: Of things we’ve sold I have to show you… we built this rollercoaster with all these old vintage cars that I got from Blackpool Pleasure Beach that were made in the 20’s and 30’s … so that was a random thing to sell. I bought this elephant sculpture too — you need to see how big it was.

Explorers are the real superheroes of the planet and I share their passion for finding new experiences and meeting new people.

IDEALIST: You’ve got a thing for elephants haven’t you?

Martin: Yeah we have. I made it for a place in India and was placed half way across a swimming pool and half on the shore as it were so you could swim underneath it. Aeroplanes…I’ve sold plenty of aeroplanes over the years. Space, I built this thing we do a lot of work with movie studios and this was from Alien. We rebuilt the spaceship and everything.This is when I was going through the Porn and Peep Show phase with neon signs saying All You Can Eat and Five Cents An Hour. And this, with these machines you press a button and it told you whether you were a love machine or grumpy…

Martin shows us some other installations with ropes hanging from the ceiling, some rockets for a restaurant in Paris and some huge Atomic Age and Russian-style pieces.

Martin: … these were divers we sold these figures. This was a football table but it was for giants, here are the humans. So we sold those. They were amazing actually. They’re beautiful aren’t they? Absolutely beautiful. So we’ve sold plenty of strange things over the years. This was an amazing thing. This was the architect’s model for a rollercoaster that was actually meant to be built in New Zealand. I think it was built in the 1930’s. You put a ball up here and it just follows the track of the rollercoaster. It was such a beautiful thing.

Ambitions

IDEALIST: You’ve done so much and it’s so eclectic. Do you have an ambition that’s not yet been realized? 

Martin: Well next month I’m going to space conference in Norway and there are going to be three moonwalkers there including Buzz Aldrin. Exploration is a passion really so I think Buzz Aldrin and Neil Armstrong are the two greatest explorers of all time. Explorers are the real superheroes of the planet and I share their passion for finding new experiences and meeting new people.

To see a small selection of the Andrew Martin range, you can shop online at andrewmartin.co.uk. For the full experience, we recommend a trip to their store on London’s Walton Street where they have everything from neon-enhanced posters of Che Guevara to Egyptian and Roman artefacts to rockets, cockpits, sofas, cushions and accessories. It’s a real treasure trove.

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The post Elephants, rollercoasters and rockets: The Idealist visits Andrew Martin appeared first on The Idealist.

from The Idealist https://www.theidealist.com/elephants-rollercoasters-rockets-idealist-andrew-martin/ from The Idealist Magazine https://theidealistmagazine.tumblr.com/post/162424846043