#bernie s sharpe

[saltysideblog]

[shinyasahalo]

Top 100 AO3 Fem Ships (Aug. 21, 2024)

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[f1]

F1 engines will get louder when new rules arrive in 2026 Domenicali | 2026 F1 season

Formula 1 engine noise will increase when new regulations are introduced in 2026, the series’ CEO Stefano Domenicali has promised. The introduction of the current 1.6-litre V6 turbos, which replaced the previous 2.4-litre V8 normally aspirated engines in 2014, made grands prix quieter affairs. The reduction in volume came about due to the smaller size of the new engines, a sharp cut in the maximum rev limit plus the greater use of energy recovery through kinetic and thermal generators. F1 has agreed new engine regulations which will come into force for the 2026 season. Domenicali says these will bring back some of the lost noise. “The intention is to make sure in the new regulation the engine [noise] itself will be higher because that’s part of our emotion,” he told Australian radio station 3AW. “It is really what our fans want to hear and that’s the duty for us to commit to that.” The new rules agreed for 2026 will retain the current V6 turbos, increase the recovery of kinetic energy by the MGU-K but remove the thermal energy recovery system (MGU-H). Domenicali insisted there is no possibility of the series moving to much quieter electrical drivetrains as used in Formula E: “No, it’s very clear, no,” he said. “We need to have a different sound. It’s music for my ears. It’s true that we had the 12 cylinders, it was a different frequency, very loud. And then 10, eight, six – it’s not [going] again down. “It’s just the situation is different. Of course we need to be a hybrid, we’re going to hybrid for the future.” The quietening of F1’s engines in 2014 was panned by the series’ then-CEO Bernie Ecclestone at the time. Senior figures in F1 have continued to argue for a return to the louder engines of old. “The noise is part of the emotion,” said Red Bull team principal Christian Horner earlier this year. “It’s part of the DNA of the sport. “It’s funny how you get used to things because the V6s with the energy recovery systems they currently have are much quieter than the old V10s and V12s or even the V8s. So now when we roll out a show car and you hear a V10 or a V8 engine, all the mechanics put their tools down to go and watch the car.” Advert | Become a RaceFans supporter and go ad-free 2023 F1 season Browse all 2023 F1 season articles via RaceFans - Independent Motorsport Coverage https://www.racefans.net/

[groovesnjams]

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..................number33 ....................of50

“Sad Girls Luv Money (Remix)” by Amaarae, Kali Uchis ft. Moliy

MG:

One of the things you hear a lot when you’re grieving is that it will put your life into focus, you’ll feel more alive and your desires will crystallize and you’ll live fully and freely. We are all grieving the life we lost right now, the familiarity of what felt normal and the sense that we knew what we were doing and why. And I think that now it’s pretty clear that trauma and loss and grief do not make life easier to live or desire easier to grasp. But if they did, if pain and loss were the pathways to pleasure, the result would sound like “Sad Girls Luv Money.” The remix doesn’t dramatically alter the song but it does sharpen the details and hone in on the sociopathic desire at its core. It’s a slick, seductive, and bubbly rampage with Kali Uchis as the satiny, adult counterpart to Amaarae’s glitchy girlishness. Together they’re a sado-masochistic whiplash, the sharp shock of “get the fuck out of my way” and the soft embrace of “I really like your body.” You know you’re being played but the urge to simp is the only feeling you have left.

DV:

Part of that disconnect is because more than any song on the list, “Sad Girls Luv Money (Remix)” is written to be memed - built out of phrases and verses that could be detached and remapped onto an array of other content - from selfies to confessionals to confrontations. Credit to Yinka Bernie for a production that binds these disparate pieces together and fashions a banger out of them: most songs that are meant for the app pipeline aren’t nearly as cohesive, though admittedly most of those songs also don’t get a hook as indelible as Moliy’s “Get the fuck outta my way/ I'm gonna get paid yeah.” Every other line is nearly just as quotable and just as incoherent when juxtaposed with the rest of the song, but if decades of pop music have taught us anything it should be that coherence is less important than meaning. And meaning is something “Sad Girls Luv Money” overflows with.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

A heavenly reunion pt. 1; Queen x reader

*Author's note*

This is it guys. After almost 3 years of writing this series it's FINALLY come to the end.  Like all good things, they must end eventually so here it is. The LAST chapter of my Rock Angel series.

I first want to point out the YEARS (except Freddie's death date) DON'T MEAN ANYTHING. I'M NOT TRYING TO PREDICT THE FUTURE OR ANYTHING LIKE THAT. I just picked these random years to represent when the remaining members of Queen will pass, AGAIN THESE AREN'T REAL DATES AND I HOPE THEY AREN'T.

Pt. 2 will be up in just a few minutes so until then, enjoy this first part.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@simonedk

@queensdivas

@queendeakyy

@queen-paladin

@sparkleslightlyy

@starswin

@labessieisallama

@isabella-bby

@naturalswifty89

@onebigfangirlworld

@ssa-sadboi

@5sos-wdw

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@geek-and-proud

@wormzteef

@bohemiansweede

_______________________________________________________________

*3rd Person POV. June 23rd, 2051*

Rock star, animal rights activist, founder of organizations like ANGELS CURING AIDS, WORDS CAN HURT TOO; Victims and survivors of emotional and verbal abuse, and the ANGELS AGAINST STALKING that helps protect people from violent stalkers. Also apart of charities like the Mercury Phoenix Trust foundation. The Rock Angel (Y/n) Kline had lived a full life.

She continued to tour with Queen as they got many other partnerships throughout the years. But she most enjoyed collaborating with Adam Lambert as he reminded her of him, bright and ambitious just wanting to share his music with the world and he knew he could never fill in Freddie's shoes but he sure as hell made a name for himself in his own way.

She was also a part of the "Bohemian Rhapsody" film that had been made and got to know the actors playing the men that she had grown up with and came to see them as her true family. Ten years after the film released, her own story got to be told thanks to the rights of Paramount and the brilliant mind of Dexter Fletcher, who had directed the story of her boys and Elton John, another one of her dearest friends and mentors.

But now at the crippled age of 90, the Rock Angel now lived in the privacy of her home in London. She was forced to stop touring because just 3 years ago she was diagnosed with a form of dementia.

It was hard on her family and her 4 children and dozens of grandchildren even great-grandchildren to see the once strong woman they had once admired for so long and looked up to as a role model not only in music, but life.

In their current home of London, her husband of over 70 years Jack who had made a name for himself. After the whole stalking incident, Jack joined the ranks of the LAPD. He worked himself all the way to the top and became Chief for over 30 years before he retired by the time he was in his 60's.

He sat there by his wife's bedside stroking her long white hair as she lay there forced into bedrest. She looked up at him and whispered.

"Jack?"

"I'm here baby."

"Where are they? Where are my boys?" she asked.

"Our sons? They're just downstairs."

"No, no. I meant my boys." At those two words, Jack's heart broke as he looked at his wife sympathetically.

"Baby they've—they died. It's been so many years since they all left this world." At hearing her boys were dead, tears fell down her face but Jack held onto his wife and kissed the top of her head. "But I can show you their videos, if you'd like."

"Please. I need to see them. To tell them goodbye." Jack then reached for the I-pad and opened up the Youtube app and began typing in the very song that he knew he would need.

He knew his wife didn't have long and he wanted her to have one last happy memory of hearing the perfect song written by her boys.

Together they held the I-pad and soon the music video "These are the days of our lives" came on.

"Why does Fred look so sick?" she asked worriedly. Jack swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to explain.

"He was suffering from AIDS, and it—really affected him love."

"I wish I could've taken care of him." She said as she stroked the screen every time Freddie came on screen. At the instrumental break as she watched Brian skillfully play the guitar, she smiled and said. "Bri....he was such a good guitar player."

"He was, but nothing compared to you." Jack praised obviously playing favorites. He then took notice of his wife growing tired as the song ended.

It was time.

"It's okay baby, you can rest now." And she did just that. Her breathing slowed right as Freddie spoke the last 'I still love you' line and the video ended. "Goodnight my Rock Angel. Be with your boys once again." He then let out a sob as he leaned against his deceased wife.

At 10:45am on June 23rd, 2051 (Y/n) Kline was pronounced dead at the old age of 90.

Everyone who had collaborated with the Rock Angel or had looked up to her all gathered at her funeral. Close friends and family all came to mourn at the loss of the last of the greatest Rock and Roll singers. She was buried in her birth town of Leicestershire, right next to her real parents.

*My POV*

I felt peaceful. My mind was no longer hazy. I could remember everything once again, but what confused me was where I was. I found myself walking through a long corridor but as I passed a mirror, I stopped and backed up to find a shocking surprise.

I was young again.

I looked to be about the age of 19, when I first met the guys. My hair was in the same long wavy fashion I once had before I cut it. I stroked along my cheek just to see if this was real or a dream, but as I stroked it I found that it was. Suddenly a door opened before me and I don't know why but I found myself walking toward it.

Now I was in what looked like an office with everything you would see. Filing cabinets, a large desk filled with paperwork but what caught my attention was the abacus that stood at the front center of the desk.

"Ahh (Y/n) Kline, please come forward." I turned to see a man around his 60's with short black hair, a grim like face with sharp cheekbones and icy blue eyes. He wore a black business suit and he was intimidating but for some reason I came forward toward the desk.

He sat down and pulled out a file and began reading through it humming to himself then he said.

"Place your hand over the abacus." I looked at it to see that the color code was white and black. White at top and black at the bottom.

"What is this?"

"This shall determine your next step. Just place your hand over it and let fate do the rest." I didn't know what this was gonna mean but again I saw myself place my hand over it and the second I did, it started going frantic.

Moving up and down frantically with no one even touching it. It was mostly balanced most of the way until it finally majority of the counters went white. The man smiled and said.

"Give my regards to those Rockstar friends' of yours. I'll be looking forward to your next concert." He then snapped his fingers and everything went bright.

Next thing I knew, I heard the sound of birds chirping and felt the sun beaming down on me. I was then greeted with wide open fields and a giant house along with several barn-like homes. It was like Garden Lodge and Rockfield farm mixed into one.

As I stood a few feet away from the main mansion-like house I swore from the second window of the white satin curtains I saw movement. I walked towards the house and placed my hand on the doorknob, I paused for a few seconds before I finally opened the door. I walked in and it was exactly like Freddie's home of Garden Lodge.

I walked through the threshold to see the grand staircase to my right, the long corridor ahead of me and the entrance to the living room to my left.

"Hello?" I said as I stood there. It was then I felt something nuzzle between my legs and I heard a meow. I heard it again and I looked down to see a very familiar face. "Hey, Delilah." I picked her up and held her as she purred and nuzzled my face. I scratched under her chin and she lowered her head to lick my hand.

"No it should be more like this." I heard a low, smooth baritone voice say.

"No, no and no Mr. tuxedo! Bernie has it like this and it shall remain this way. He and I are the genius piano and songwriting duo and it'll stick to this rhythm and timing." Another voice boasted out.

Oh my god.....It can't be. I set Delilah down and she took off running up the stairs as I crossed the living room into the parlor where Fred kept his piano to see two men that I had not seen in forever.

"David? Elton?" I spoke up. The two men turned toward me. David looked so much healthier than last I saw him and he looked younger just like me, in fact he looked about the same age he was when he did Live aid as well as working on the Jim Henson project 'the Labyrinth'.

Elton on the other hand looked about the age from when he was first starting off, back before he began experimenting with all the drugs and all that. The vibrant ginger hair but he still had on those flamboyant sunglasses he always loved to wear.

"Is that—really you?" I asked bewildered.

"Oh shit it can't be. The high angel herself, the Rock Angel?" Elton dramatic tone.

"Yes, it's me."

"Ohh darling. Welcome home." David greeted me with a wide smile and open arms as he walked up to me. He embraced me as he chuckled warmly and said, "Did you have a good life darling?"

"Uh-huh. I had the best life." I said, my voice muffled within his blue suit.

"It looked like you did love." We separated and I couldn't help but admire just how healthy he was.

"How have you been David?"

"Much better darling. No more chemo, I can finally breathe again."

"That's good."

"Alright you overgrown smooth talker, let me at her now." Elton proclaimed as he shoved David aside and immediately came up and kissed both of my cheeks before embracing me. "Oh darling we sure have missed you."

"And I you Elton. Life just hasn't been the same without your music."

"Been practicing those scales I taught you?" he asked pointedly.

"Yes, whenever I could."

"That's my girl." He hugged me again and I buried my face into his shoulder.

"(Y/n)?" a choir of voices soon rang up. I felt my heart stop as I lifted my head, not believing what I was hearing. Elton let go of me and both he and David with soft smiles on their faces told me to go and see who it was. The four voices called out my name again.

I crossed through the parlor, ran across the living room until I came to the door and just halfway up the staircase, I felt my smile widen and tears fill my eyes.

"My boys."

"You're finally here!" Freddie proclaimed. My legs raced directly up the stairs and Freddie, Brian, Roger and John all gathered me at the center in a long awaited Queen group hug.

All I felt were arms wrapped around me tightly, kisses all over my head and face and gentle hair and back strokes. I don't even know how long we were in that hug for but I didn't care, all I cared about was the fact my boys were here all together. When we finally separated I finally got a good look at all four of them.

They were all so young and vibrant just like how I first saw them back in concert long before I became an intern, I would like to think they were now the same ages they were when they first played at the Rainbow back in 1974. Long hair and all.

"I can't believe you four are here." I praised.

"And we can't believe you're here. And with your long hair again, was this when you were most happy?" asked Brian.

"If by that you mean when I first became Miami's intern? Yeah, best day of my life. Do you guys hate it?"

"No darling we've loved you no matter what your hair length is." Freddie said as he stroked the ends of my hair.

"I only just hope you didn't bring along any extreme surprises. Belly button rings, more tattoos." Deacy teased me. I chuckled but felt tears fall down my face.

"Aww lovie what is it?" Roger cooed as I felt him rub my shoulder. All four of them looking at me with those concerned puppy dog eyes they all knew how to do.

"I'm sorry. It's just—I missed you four so much." They all awed as Freddie first took me in his arms and said with his head leaning against mine.

"I know darling. It seems like it's been forever since the five of us were together."

"Coming from you Fred you have no idea." I wept as I gripped onto him as tight as I could, burying my face into his long black hair which softly tickled my face.

God if there's anything I missed about Freddie, it was his warm hugs. They were always so warm and inviting, anyone who was lucky enough to be given any sign of affection from this loveable man was considered lucky, and I was fortunate to be one of those people, and now finally after almost 60 years, I was able to feel that affection once more.

We were now upstairs in the master bedroom to do some private catching up.

"Alright sister dear, come here you." Deacy said. I smiled and immediately went into his arms and he embraced me. As all of you know, after Freddie's death, Deacy was the one to take it the hardest. So much so that he hardly played at any Queen gigs except for maybe three occasions then by 1997 he officially retired and no one had heard from him since.

The guys and I respected his decision so in order to make sure he was alright, I kept in contact with Veronica and would occasionally ask how Deacy was doing as well as the kids. I had learned that the two of them had two more kids, Luke and Cameron and the two of them had been successful in their own ways, all of the Deacy kiddies had, especially Luke who followed in his dad's footsteps and played in a band of his own.

In fact with the permission of the parents, I had allowed my nephew Luke to play at a few of my tours, and god just seeing him play reminded me so much of his dad, not to mentioned he looked so much like him.

And it was an honor to play with a second generation of Deacon.

The sad news of Deacy's passing came to Jack and I from Laura on a cold November day in 2035. Out of the two of us, Jack was the most heartbroken because he not only lost a brother but his idol and mentor.

We were invited to the burial by decree of the Deacy clan but I made sure that through some makeup and wigs that Jack and I weren't recognized by press because we wanted this to be private. As Deacy would've wanted that.

"Ohh I've missed you so much (y/n)."

"Not as much as I missed you brother mine."

It was then my attention turned towards the last 2 members of Queen, the remaining members I kept working with till the end. Brian May and Roger Taylor.

Together in our lives after Freddie's death and Deacy's retirement, I had been there for everything Queen got to accomplish, and they did the same for me. In fact it was Brian who bestowed upon me my plaque to be initiated into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame before I was given my star right above Queen's.

I was also involved with some of the work they did for a little movie called "Bohemian Rhapsody", and they helped become a part of my movie "Set it all free Angel". I first turned my attention to Brian.

It had been almost 10 years since my movie came out and 20 for Queen's film Bohemian Rhapsody. I was in my home studio working on my next upcoming album when I had received a call from Anita telling me that Brian had passed away at the age of 93. It was a peaceful passing so he wasn't suffering or in pain which I was thankful for in a way, he's suffered through so much that if I wanted him to go out, it would have to be peacefully in his sleep.

The world was devastated at losing such an inspiring man. Not only in the music industry, but for his work in astrophysics, as well as the animal programs that he's helped funded and laws he helped raise awareness for.

When he died, I took over the business in his name and within 3 years; I finally helped get laws of abusing, harming or killing animals to be illegal and anyone caught doing that wouldn't get misdemeanors. They would face legal full sentencing of 20-50years in Federal prison. On the night the laws passed and I along with Brian's partnering animal rehab centers signed off on the law, I went to Brian's grave and told him everything.

I immediately glomped him into a hug and held onto his waist tightly. He embraced me back just as tight as I was holding him, me humming lovingly as I buried my face into his chest feeling him stroke down my hair. After what felt like forever, he separated from me and stared down at me with those loving hazel blue eyes of his as he placed both his hands at the top of my head before stroking them downward against each side of my head and ending by cupping my face in his hands.

"I am so proud of everything you've done (Y/n). I saw it all, thank you for continuing my legacy for animal rights."

"You taught me everything I needed to know about being kind and caring towards all creatures, so much so you helped inspire me to do my own animal rehabilitations and rescues. I just—wish I could've been there for you when you......"

"It was beyond your control love. But I didn't suffer. I knew you loved me, and would've done anything to come see me had you known. I never blamed you, so stop blaming yourself." I nodded as tears slipped down my face but with his thumbs he wiped them away before hugging me once more. I felt him kiss my temple before cupping the side of my face once more to kiss my nose.

Even as I got older and we were both in our senior years, he never once stopped with the nose pecks. I smiled and Eskimo kissed him before he pressed his forehead against mine. It was then I felt a hand on my shoulder and I turned to my right to see Roger standing before me.

Besides Freddie's death, I think the most devastating thing for me was when Roger died. It was about a year after Brian's death when I had gotten a frantic call from my godson Rufus that Roger had been taken to the hospital because of a stroke. Without hesitating, I got into the car and raced to West London Medical Hospital, where I met up with the Taylor pride.

I was frantic with anxiety and fear that I would lose yet a 3rd member of Queen. Over 48hrs passed when Rog finally regained consciousness and I was sitting right there by his bedside holding his hand. He spoke so softly it was like whispers on the wind and the only thing he wanted to do was go outside.

Reluctantly the doctors allowed it so my godchildren, and his wife Sarina took him out to the hospital garden and allowed me some one on one time with him. But I didn't know that that would be the last time they would ever get to talk to him. The last words he ever spoke to me were and I still remember it to this day, even up here in heaven.

"Brian and Freddie have come to collect me, they send out their love to you and Deacy. Look after the old bastard for us." And I literally felt his life slip away from my hand as he died right there in front of me.

For months I was depressed. I was allowed to go to the funeral and speak my eulogy and I sang at his funeral, this time my own rendition of Phil Collins' song 'You'll be in my heart.' It was also because of his funeral that Deacy and I got even closer than we had in years.

He had secretly gone to both Brian and Roger's funeral but it didn't take till Rog passed for him to physically approach me and we both just wept and cried from losing a father, a brother, a great friend together.

Finally when I finally gained the strength, me and the Taylor children all took a picnic up where Roger was born and just looked out beyond the fields of where his childhood home was and reminisced on all the wonderful memories we had of our father.

And it was from his death I produced my album 'Papa Lion' and dedicated it to him; 'To my Papa Lion, and all the other father lions out there. Keep protecting your children no matter what'.

"You gonna get into these arms or what love?" he asked me. I spoke not a word but felt tears in my eyes as I raced up and buried myself into his neck and dirty blonde almost brunette hair. He held me and spun me around, kissing all over my face humming and moaning lovingly.

When he finally set me down, he cupped my face just like Brian did but he gently leaned forward and very gingerly headbutted my forehead and the two of us nuzzled each other, rubbing our noses together.

Like a father lion and his cub reuniting with each other at last.

I held onto his wrists which still cupped the sides of my face and just allowed my tears to fall out but I couldn't stop smiling.

"I hope those are happy tears." He said to me. I sniffled and nodded.

"Yeah the—these are....ha-happy tears." I choked out.

"You know you don't have to be so strong around me, right lovie?" It was then I just broke down and wept as I embraced him. "Shhh, shh. I'm here my lion cub, I'm here. Papa lion is here." He whispered in my ear.

"God I have waited so long for you to say that." I whimpered out to hear him softly laugh and just hug me tighter.

"Oh my darlings.....my heart.....it's too full!" We heard Fred exclaim out dramatically. We both laughed as I nuzzled deeper into my papa lion's chest, happy to finally be reunited with them.

After finally calming down, we were all just sitting around the master bedroom. I was up against the couch leaning against Deacy's legs as he was currently brushing and braiding my hair.

"So you guys continuing to rock it out here in Heaven?" I asked.

"Don't you know it darling. Every good singer who has helped made a difference comes up here and we continue to live a peaceful eternity doing what we were born to do. Be performers." Freddie stated.

"In fact we just had our concert the other night. We got to perform alongside the Beatles." Said Roger.

"Shut up! The Beatles?!"

"You know it love, Lennon, McCartney, Harrison and Starr." Said Brian.

"Wow, I wish I could've seen it." I said.

"You will darling, we perform our concerts every single night. And it's always a mix mash of artists and bands collaborating together to perform the Greatest Heavenly Rock 'n Roll concert." Said Fred.

"Now that you're here poppet, you'll get the chance to perform with the best of the best." Said Deacy. I was flabbergasted.

"Holy......" I couldn't even finish it because I was just so shocked to think that I would be performing with the greatest artists long before my time and bands I wish I had the chance to record or perform alongside with. The guys all chuckled at me and I said.

"So that's why David and Elton were here."

"Mm-hmm. We're all performing together in tonight's show. Three artists of the 70's decade for the first time ever sharing the stage together." Said Brian.

"Ohh man what people would've killed to see that in person. I mean yeah you guys performed at the same venue like we did with Live Aid or did some recordings together but never all three of you guys on stage at once." I said.

"That's how it works around here." Spoke Deacy as he finished the last strand of my braid. I thanked him and observed the braid he had done and I commented.

"You've gotten better Deacy."

"Laura was good practice. My baby girl always wanted her hair braided."

"She may have gotten that from me, sorry." He playfully scowled at me but I cheekily stuck my tongue out at him. "Say Fred, where's Jim at? I figured if you were here, he would be too."

"Oh that man of mine, he's out tending the garden, come have a look." He escorted me to the back window and there I saw a field of flowers as far as the eye could see.

"Whoa. He's done all of that?"

"Been doing it since 2010 darling. Always a hard worker my husband. When he first came, I was worried he wouldn't like this appearance of mine, after all I didn't have my tache and my hair was much shorter than when I first met him."

"Jim loves you Freddie. He loves you no matter what you'd look like."

"And I did know. Turns out he's got a long hair kink." He whispered to me which made me choke out a laugh.

"Seriously?" He nodded ecstatically and that's when Deacy spoke up.

"We're still here Fred, no need to hear any of that."

"Oh god Deacy don't act so innocent. After all you were the one who wrote a song about pre-ejaculation." Deacy's mouth just gaped before turning stoic, and of course Rog and Bri were laughing their asses off. He turned to me and I shrugged saying.

"He's got a point."

"Okay yeah ha-ha fuck all of you."

"Oh come off it John. We mean no harm by it." Roger teased

"At least it's better than a car fucking song." Deacy fired back.

"That's not funny!" Roger proclaimed.

"It is kinda funny." Deacy sassed back.

"Okay, okay enough both of you. I had enough of your arguments to last an entire lifetime. I don't need to relive it now when I just got here." I stated.

"Sorry love." They both choired out.

"Oh (y/n), I do have a surprise for you though." Brian spoke up. I looked at him and said,

"What kind of surprise?"

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise now would it?" He said as he walked right up to me.

"If you tell me, I'll still act surprise." He chuckled and wrapped an arm around me.

"C'mon love, let's head outside." We soon went down the stairs and headed out of the house.

Brian lead me to an open field about a half mile away from the house. There was nothing but green for miles ahead.

"Brian what's this about?"

"You'll see." He then took his index finger and thumb and curled them inward like pinchers before placing them against his lips letting out a loud whistle. We stood there for a moment that was until I heard a bark. A very familiar bark. No it—it couldn't be.

Soon jogging up the hill about a mile away was a German Shepherd. His familiar traditional fur coat shined under the sun as he looked right at me. He let out a couple of barks and soon several more dogs came running up beside him.

They consisted of a golden retriever, 2 pit-bulls, 3 huskies (1 traditional black and white, another grey and white and the last one an auburn coloring), a collie, and 4 Labradors (2 blacks, a tan and one brown).

With each dog that this pack had, I knew every single one of them. I turned to Brian baffled and he just grinned at me before nodding telling me that they were who I thought they were. I turned back around and the German Shepherd let out a bark. I then let instinct take over and ran as I cried out.

"Bucky!" He soon came running after me, as did all the other dogs barking and panting as they all ran down the hill towards me. "C'mon kids! Come on!" I proclaimed. Each dog was running as fast as they could but Bucky and the black and white husky Shasta were leading the pack. "C'mon kids!" Bucky let out some barks as he raced ahead of Shasta and we met half-way.

Bucky leapt with both paws to my shoulders knocking me down onto the ground.

"Ohh Buck. I can't believe it's you! Ohh look at you boy! Good boy Buck!" A second later Shasta came up to me whimpering happily as his tail wagged. "Oh Shasta baby boy look at you! Hi~ Hi baby boy~." Soon enough my entire dog pack was all up on me grunting and whimpering happily as they all began to tackle me, wanting my attention and love.

Now while you all know I've had Bucky and Sammy as the family pets for Jack and the kids. The other dogs have a different story. The two pitbull brothers that I had named Titan and Bear were rescue dogs when I was a part of an actual rescue mission with one of my animal charities in saving dogs from a Mexican dogfight.

Whenever I was free from touring and recording, I made sure they were well taken care of and even let them stay at my home for awhile before they were finally adopted by a good family.

My triple threat huskies Shasta, Maya (the grey and white) and Eevee (auburn) were actually Kelly's dogs. Shortly after she left for college, she wanted to fill her house with dogs so she adopted these three and very often when she would visit or we would visit her, these troublemakers were always there. Sweet and loveable but stubborn little buggers but I wouldn't take them either way.

The Labradors were also rescue dogs that I helped out. The black one Raider and white one Rowdy were just left abandoned tied up in the backyard of their owners homes. The owners had abandoned them and left them for dead in the hottest summer of the year. But thanks to my team we got them out, sheltered and good homes but I occasionally checked in on them since I couldn't let them go.

The brown lab Cleopatra and the other black lab Midnight were once stray dogs till my son Freddie found them and gave them some food and water. Since he didn't have the heart to turn them to the shelter he adopted them. They even started their own little family since Midnight and Cleopatra were mates together and had many puppies together.

And finally the beautiful Collie was Jezebel. Jezebel was something special because she was actually my nana's dog. I hadn't seen her since I was probably five years old, she was already an old girl growing up but from what I remember, she was so maternal with me.

Whenever my nana was busy with something, she knew she could trust Jezebel with me.

After giving every single dog my attention I finally managed to stand up and see all the dogs in my life standing in a row.

"Jezzy, Bucky, Sammy, Titan, Bear, Shasta, Maya, Eevee, Cleo, Midnight, Rowdy and Raider. I don't believe it. Good doggies. My lucky dog pack. I can't believe you're all here. How did you find them all?"

"I was out strolling wanting to observe the stars when I found Bucky and Sammy. They immediately recognized me and just came running right for me. Soon enough they brought me to meet the rest of the dogs you've known and rescued. I was surprised about the collie but I knew she wouldn't be among them if she wasn't a part of your family."

"Yeah, Jezebel was my nana's dog. I called her Jezzy cause I couldn't quite pronounce her name. She was like my guardian dog angel. Always maternal until she passed away of cancer when I was just 5 years old." I walked up to her and pet her head and she leaned up against me. "She even saved me from almost being attacked by a stray dog one summer."

"Well I'm very glad she did." Brian said as he walked up and stroked her head and she gave his hand a friendly sniff and lick.

"And you took care of all of them?"

"Well I'm an animal activist through and through. If Freddie takes care of every cat that comes to Heaven, I thought I should take care of the animals I've grown fond of, but also the animals my little protegee has taken on herself. As well as the family dogs." I smiled and Brian and thanked him with a hug and he gratefully hugged me back.

As the day drew to a close and nightfall came, the boys had escorted me over to the Heavenly Concert hall. If we want to look at it scale wise, imagine it as Wembley Stadium during the time of Live Aid back in 1985. We drove in a royal golden carriage fit only for her royal majesties themselves.

"Wow, it's just like Wembley stadium."

"It is in a way, but it can fit an infinite amount of people. Any and all are welcome to watch us perform." Said Deacy.

"And we won't need to do soundchecks or anything?"

"Nope. This is heaven darling. Up here everything works to the full capacity and capability. No have to worry ever again about sound checks or power outages." Freddie stated. Our carriage soon stopped at the back entrance and the doors magically opened.

I stepped out first followed by Deacy, Roger, Brian and Freddie. Deacy wrapped his arm around me and guided me into the building and the five of us followed the sign down to the basement level where the dressing rooms were.

And it was like they said, I saw dozens of stars with the names of so many artists and bands before and during my time. Elvis Presley, Janis Joplin, the Beatles, David, Elton, Led Zeppelin, REO Speedwagon, George Michael, Phil Collins, Bob Dylan, and everyone and anyone you could think of.

"And here we are darling, your dressing room awaits." Roger said as he stood before a red door with a golden star with wings on each side that read in bold black letters my stage name ROCK ANGEL. He opened it up and I was in awe.

Inside was a very large room filled with furniture, a huge makeup station with large mirror decored with lamplights around the perimeter of it.

On the left side of the dressing room were hundreds of different outfit's I've worn throughout the years. Everything was there on hangers along with some of the hats I wore, fedora's, cowgirl, and my famed flat caps of various different colors and styles.

While on the right; I could see just music instruments like the Red Special Brian had made for me up against a special holder up along the wall right by my makeup stand.

"Is this my....."

"Go on and have a look darling." I heard Freddie say in my ear.

"Okay. I finally have my own mall." I walked in and was just in awe at everything. It looked like heaven had taken my master bedroom from my first home I had after becoming the Rock Angel and just put it all here.

I walked inside and said.

"Ooo, very nice shoes." I pointed out on the shoe wrack seeing some of the styles of shoes I've worn. From combat boots, to Adidas', flats, and even the high-heeled boots that Deacy always wore during the 1970's.

"We're glad you like them darling. Why don't you go around that corner and press the black button along the dresser." Deacy said. I walked further in and reached a dresser and found the black button. When I pressed it, a couple of shelves slowly opened up revealing almost every pair of sunglasses I've always worn.

"Oh my god! I've missed wearing these." I picked up a pair of my ray ban black and gold framed sunglasses. "Didn't I make these look good?" I quickly turned to see the guys were gone. "Guys?"

"Over here love." I heard Brian's voice say. I walked towards the right to see my boys standing or sitting along some of the foot stools.

"Oh there you all are. Ohh nice amps." I couldn't help but see the amps up along the wall. "I—I'm just...." Before I could continue a remote was tossed over at me by Roger as he said.

"Before you even say anything else. Type in combination 2-1-2." I muttered the combination to myself as I pressed the numbers and soon the closet before us opened and soon revolving around were various guitars and bass guitars, shelves soon opened revealing several pairs of drumsticks each imprinted with my name on them.

I had no words.

"Umm....this is.....I can't—" I jumped back a bit as the top shelves suddenly opened revealing two different microphones. One was a basic black but it was bedazzled with red gems while the other one was pure gold with golden gems.

"Elton and I had a little hand of having your microphones designed." Said Freddie with a modest shrug.

"I mean....guys this is......unbelievable. And this is all mine?"

"Oh darling you should see ours. It's practically the entire mansion back home."

"Each star that comes here is given the full custom of what they've enjoy back on Earth. And since you've favored how you once had your rotating dressers back in 2011, it's all here for you but advanced into your instruments as well." Said Roger.

"And if anyone has any suggestion like if they're close to another artist, they can submit some suggestions of what should be in said artists dressing room." Brian spoke up.

"Aww you guys, I love you." I said as I came up to them and we got into a group hugged.

"We love you too (Y/n) darling. Now hurry up and get ready, the concert is about to begin." The boys left me to my own business. I walked up to my clothes rack and went through every style and decided that if I was to do my first concert in Heaven, I might as well wear exactly what I wore for my first concert as the Rock Angel.

After getting ready and doing my makeup the same way Freddie had done for me that day in Madison Square Garden, I picked up my Red Special and put it around my neck and left my dressing room.

"The Rock Angel is back." I looked up to see the boys standing across me in front of their dressing room, dressed to the T like they had at the they did at the Odeon theater Christmas Eve 1975. I smiled and said.

"Well look at you guys, it seems like only yesterday I was sneaking my friends into the house while Joanna and Graham were at their Christmas party just to watch you guys live at the Hammersmith Oden theater." I sassed.

"Thank you love, now c'mon time to head to the stage." Roger said. The lads cheered and I followed behind as we all walked back up the stairs and went through the corridors of backstage. Hundreds upon hundreds of artists were getting themselves ready to go up and perform.

I watched as the boys did their typical body warmups to get themselves pumped up when I felt a nudge at my arm.

"You seem quiet poppet, everything okay?" I looked up to see Deacy standing beside me.

"You said anybody whose anybody comes to see these shows right?" He nodded and I said solemnly, "Do....do you think my family, like my mum and dad know that I'm here now? That I'm here performing?" I felt him wrap his arm around my shoulder and he said.

"It's possible. Anytime a new artist or band comes here, it's fully announced far and wide throughout Heaven. So there's a good chance they might be out there in the audience."

"I hope so. I just want to show them what I've achieved, I want them to be proud of me."

"They are poppet. Just like we are." He embraced me in a one armed hug leaning his head against mine.

"I really have missed these moments between us Deacy."

"So have I. And I've got a hell of a lot of comforting to catch up on."

"Well now's a good start."

"Oi you two! Are we going to perform or not?" The two of us smiled as we heard Roger's voice cry out to us. My brother looked down at me and he said.

"C'mon, let's go do our thing." I nodded and we headed towards the guys.

*3rd Person POV*

Once again it was concert time. Every soul that had passed into heaven that was a fan of Rock and Roll or music in general came from far and wide to come to the concert of concerts, even bigger than the Earthly event that Live Aid gave the world.

Generations of artists and musicians that had come from around the world from many different backgrounds came to this very stadium to give the performance of their afterlives. Thousands, almost a million people poured into the stadium as the lights were flashing and doing their test run for each artist that would perform that night.

Soon Bob Geldof came onto the stage and everyone applauded for him.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen. Welcome once again to the Heaven's Rock and Roll concert." Everyone applauded and cheered holding up signs of their favorite artists or bands that would be performing tonight. "It gives me great honor to announce that we recently were given a new arrival, but I won't give it away on who it is." The audience crowd because they wanted to hear who it was as Bob continued, "I'll leave that to the band who know her best. So without further ado I would like to bring up on stage the first band performance of this evening's festivities. These lads I knew personally and they helped make one of the biggest rock concerts even greater than I could ever imagine. These four individually talented young men rose to the stardom in the early 1970's before exploding into the worldwide phenomenon by the 1980's. Ladies and Gentlemen please bow before her royal majesties that is Queen!"

The crowd roared with applause as Bob left the stage and the stage grew dark. Soon the opening notes for "Now I'm here" began playing and everyone cheered louder as they began clapping in rhythm. Those who have seen and grew up seeing Queen live, knew exactly how to react and behave during a Queen concert and those who got to know Queen up here in heaven got a taste of what it would've been like had they seen them in person with all four of them up on stage.

Soon Freddie's silhouette and voice echoed through the speakers as he began to sing the song. When the song began to pick up, the lights on stage exploded as did fire from the sides of the stage as all four members of Queen were finally revealed to the crowd.

Freddie lead with the vocals and his mates and brothers backed him up on not only the vocals but their instruments, and ever the frontman he was, strutted the stage like it was his as his voice overpowered and reached out into the audience with a force unlike anything.

By the end of the song, Freddie proclaimed into the microphone.

"Thank you! Thank you, good evening everybody!" The crowd cheered as Freddie continued, "Oh it looks magnificent out there tonight. Okay my darlings, right now. Right now, we're going to take you for the first time ever we're taking you all to the battlefield. This is called Ogre Battle!"

The boys continued to play a few more songs like 'White Queen', 'Killer Queen', 'Bohemian Rhapsody', 'Don't stop me now' and 'Son and Daughter' included with Brian's famous guitar solo giving Deacy and Freddie enough time to change clothes for the next half of the performance. Freddie now wearing the famed black satin outfit with his chest exposed and diamond fingernailed glove as well as the chain glove on the other.

"Yes thank you, thank you very much. Featuring Brian May on guitar!" Brian took a bow as the spotlight shined on him and the crowd cheered. "Now then my darlings, as I'm sure everyone's heard we have a new arrival. A very special girl to all four of us. How would you all like to meet her?"

The crowd roared with applause and soon Roger began doing one single rhythmic beat. Hearing the beat made the entire audience clap in that single beat rhythm.

"She first rose to the spotlight in the summer of 1981. A bright, charismatic young woman whose music has touched the lives of millions. To us she wasn't a shadow of our fame, she was an equal partnership. The like of which we had never knew we could ever ask for. Ladies and gentlemen and everyone up in the balcony give it up for Heaven's very own Rock Angel, Mrs. (Y/n) Kline!"

From up on the catwalk above the stage, the silhouette of the Rock Angel herself came up and it appeared that she actually had angel wings sprouting from her back as she began the first verse of her famed song "Set it all Free".

By the chorus, the screen lifted up and she hopped off the catwalk and gratefully fell from the 10ft catwalk onto center stage playing her Red Special as her boys backed her up as they always did whenever they performed this song together.

And seeing the two artists perform together, Queen and the Rock Angel, the crowd was in pure excitement bouncing up and down and crying out the lyrics to the well known song that the Rock Angel's 'Bohemian Rhapsody'.

But none were more happy to perform once again than the artists that were on stage. It had been forever since it was the five of them together up on stage and they couldn't help but look at each other. As the guitar solo came up, it turned into a guitar battle between the Rock Angel herself and Brian May which got the crowd really pumped up.

By the end of the song, everyone was chanting out 'Angel! Angel! Angel!'

"Hello Rock and roll heaven how's everyone doing tonight!?" The crowd welcomed her with a roar of applause. "God I can't believe I'm here performing with my boys once again. And right now we'd like to bring out a special guest for this next number." She turned to Deacy who nodded and began playing his bassline for "Under Pressure" which got the crowd applauding louder.

"This man is a well-known legend and the birth of a true 'flamboyant' hard rocker. And a very close friend of mine." Freddie started.

"Six time Grammy award winner, 4 time Brit award winner, actor, musician. Everyone put your hands together for Mr. David Bowie!" (Y/n) proclaimed into the mic.

It was then Freddie and (Y/n) began singing the first part of the song as at the center stage a circular hole began to open and soon rising up onto the stage was David Bowie himself. He wore a royal blue suit with a black undercoat suit shirt as well as the business white shirt. A light blue tie and black shoes.

He soon began his line of the first bridge as Freddie and the Rock Angel backed him up. When the second part of the song came up after Freddie's little vocalization, David gave the gesture for (Y/n) to take the second part of the song. And as she always performed it, she would lowly sing in her alto range before suddenly belting out to the perfect volume as she would hold the note out for as long as she could letting the two legends back her up.

Just like the record Freddie and Roger softly sung the first part of the break, then David came in before (Y/n) belted out the why vocals before the song picked right back up. It was something that could only be seen in Heaven. Three legendary singers performing one song.

David Bowie, Freddie Mercury and (Y/n) Kline the Rock Angel.

The three lead singers stood side by side with each other with David on the left, Freddie in the middle and (y/n) to the right. The three in almost rehearsed synchronicity began to sidestepped across the stage as all three voices blended the bridge that it could give one an eargasm.

Agreeing with each other and knowing what she could do to close the song, both David and Freddie stepped back with (y/n) completely unaware as she just allowed the song to consume her.

At the final note, she let out a proud controlled belt that was first heard at Freddie's tribute concert and it almost seemed like the sun was rising as the stage was lit up in a heavenly glow as she held the note. The entire audience was in an uproar as they gave a standing ovation to the Rock Angel herself.

She turned around and saw the five older men smiling at her and applauding her for a phenomenal performance that they have missed so dearly.

The concert continued as Elton John soon came up on stage and together he, Freddie and (y/n) sang 'I'm still standing' a song that was personal to all three of them in some shape or form but they knew this was the perfect song for them all to sing.

After a few more Queen songs, with the allowance of their beloved Rock Angel since her set was about to come up after theirs, she allowed them to stay and be her band as she would perform her hit songs before the souls of Heaven.

Songs like 'Who I am', 'So good,' 'Bridge of light', 'Rock angel', her rendition of 'Somebody to love', 'We'll be together', and with her boys already up there with her they did a few more duets of Queen songs like 'Friends will be friends', 'Spread your wings', 'Fat Bottomed girls', and 'Jailhouse Rock'.

Finally their time was up and as 'God save the Queen' played through the speakers, all five of them stood side by side each other and bid the crowd a goodbye and thank you.

After watching several performances from backstage, and when the concert finally came to a close it was time for the after party. So just outside in the back a beautiful garden was set up with refreshments and plenty of drinks to fit everyone's needs and all the performers of the night came out to talk amongst one another and to celebrate another well-performed concert.

As well as to welcome their newest achievement.

*My POV*

Oh my god. That was a thrill rush, and now being here at the after party I saw literally everyone. Elvis, Janis, the Beatles, Little Richard, Elton, David, Hendrix, everyone in rock and roll big names were gathered around this beautiful garden.

As I went to go grab some water I felt a hand tap my shoulder and there stood John Lennon himself.

"So you are the famous Rock Angel?" I swallowed my water and was completely star-struck.

"Y-yeah I.....Mr. Lennon I....."

"Please call me John."

"Okay, John. Can I just say.....just between us that you were always my favorite Beatle out of the group."

"Coming from you that's a huge honor. And now I can finally rub it into Paul's face the bugger." I laughed and that's when I heard a female voice say.

"Alright let me at her, where is she?" And there donned with her famous fur coat, tall Russian-like hat and red circular shades was Janis Joplin herself. "And there she is. The one female rocker better than me." She spoke as she came up to me.

"Oh no Mrs. Jop—"

"Ah-ah. Mrs. Joplin is not my name. Call me Janis baby girl." I blushed and she wrapped an arm around me and said, "You know, you and I aren't so different kid."

"How so?"

"Well we both struggled in our families and personal lives, got together with some male rockstars to form a partnership before splitting off to have our freedom. The only difference is, is that I wish I had your strength. I decided to call it quits with heroin being my way to kick the bucket."

"You were someone I did look up to. I mean yeah you had your struggles, but hell you didn't take shit from no one. When conservative minds at the time wanted you to do it their way, you said....."

"'Fuck you. I'm doing it my own way!'" She finished off which made the two of us laugh. "Yah know something baby girl, I like you. Promise me for Lady's night you'll do a song with me?"

"It would be an honor Janis." She smiled and hugged me tightly.

"Alright my darlings, may we have everyone's attention?" Freddie's voice soon spoke up as he was now standing on top of a table. Everyone looked up and as the boys of Queen stood up front Freddie continued, "First of all magnificent show all of you. So cheers my lovely darlings." Everyone of us raised our glasses in the air saying 'cheers'.

"We'd also love to specifically say a wonderful show for our newest arrival," Brian spoke up. He turned to me and extended his hand out for mine. I took it and he gently pulled me up front so that everyone could see me.

"Our beloved Rock Angel herself, (Y/n) Kline." Roger spoke up as he smiled warmly down at me.

"To the Rock Angel!" Deacy stated as he raised his cocktail glass in the air.

"To the Rock Angel!" Everyone choired at me. I bashfully smiled and said.

"Thank you, it was an honor to see most of you perform tonight, and it was great to perform with someone of you once again after so many years. I hope I have the privilege to perform with every single soul here." I said.

We then raised our glasses once more and the mingling and partying continued long into the night.

[blackswaneuroparedux]

The Great Drive: James Hunt and Niki Lauda at Fuji, 1976

I feel really sorry for Niki. I feel sorry for everybody that the race had to be run in such ridiculous circumstances because the conditions were dangerous and I fully appreciate Niki’s decision. After an accident like he had, what else could he do? Quite honestly, I wanted to win the championship and I felt I deserved it. But I also felt Niki deserved to win the championship – and I just wish we could have shared it.

- James Hunt on winning the Japanese Grand Prix 1976 to become F1 World Champion

James Hunt’s epic title battle with Niki Lauda, during what many see as the definitive F1 season, was topped off by a thrilling race in the land of the rising sun. It became an instant classic, one of F1’s Great Drives.

With everything to lose, in treacherous conditions, and with late drama, James Hunt's drive in the 1976 Japanese Grand Prix was one of the greatest of all time.

James Hunt delivered his greatest drive in spite of himself. It wasn’t just the peak moment of his career, but also a defining drive for F1.

The British gentleman racer conquering the world’s best in far away lands – Hunt embodied it.

Despite this, the Brit’s landmark drive came in the midst of late night escapades, mechanical disasters, psychological warfare and F1 politics.

As the ‘76 season approached its climax in North America and Asia, it seemed all might be lost for the McLaren team and its lead driver. Hunt had been duelling with Ferrari’s Niki Lauda throughout the year, but losing his British Grand Prix win to disqualification (announced by the FIA at Round 14 in Canada) seemed to have derailed his season for good.

McLaren team manager at the time Alastair Caldwell describes the state of affairs as they approached the North American leg of the season: “We abandoned the idea of winning the world championship. I let him misbehave in Canada and in Watkins Glen. On both occasions we were pissed on race eve, both of us in a bar after midnight getting rotten – me on alcohol and him on women, because he was always very successful with women.

“James met a girl – the leader of the band at the motel in Montreal – and so he came to the race dishevelled, in the same clothes as he’d been wearing the previous night – and he won the race!

“Even then we still thought we were out of it. Then we won Watkins Glen too! So suddenly we became serious again.”

Lauda had scored 4 points to Hunt’s 18 in this period. With the championship fight back on, the rejuvenated team and driver looked at the season finale in a new light. The championship fight was back on, and as a result, McLaren prepared for the Japanese GP with renewed vigour.

James Hunt had been in Japan a fortnight, ostensibly to test at a circuit  new to him. Delays at customs, car problems and bad weather had severely  restricted his running, but at least now he was totally orientated and, in his inimitable fashion, ‘relaxed’. That meant when he wasn’t  strutting his stuff on the hotel’s squash court, he was billing and  cooing with its latest migratory flock of pretty air stewardesses to bed. It beat  jogging.

Lauda arrived later, low-key and at a low ebb. The spirit that held  the demons at bay during his remarkable Monza comeback had evaporated in  Canada and America. Now running on empty, he was full of doubts. While  Ferrari team manager Daniele Audetto attempted to whip up retro oppo to  McLaren’s ‘illegal’ testing, his star driver looked the other way and  wished it over: Lauda was sick of Enzo and his minions, of a season in  its 10th month and of press intrusion.

McLaren’s earlier preparations were in sharp contrast to the rest of the field who arrived just for the race weekend itself. According to Caldwell, “The others all turned up on the Thursday, including Niki, you can see them all get off the plane knackered and then trying to find where this new racetrack was.”

It wasn’t just through testing and acclimatisation that Hunt and McLaren stole a march. Caldwell thought he might use interactions with the press to his advantage: “Just for a laugh we spread a rumour. A journalist said to me ‘what’s the track like?’ I said ‘It’s is good but it’s got a lot of loose gravel on it.’”

Enjoying the effect the track surface story had on the rest of the field’s preparations, Caldwell thought he’d develop the rumour into a full-blown design feature.

“Because we were bored and had nothing else to do, the mechanics made mesh covers for all the air intakes on the car, to “protect” the brake ducts and air intake.

“Then Niki (Lauda) came down to our garage, which he always did – he spent more time in our garage then Ferrari’s. He would joke with us and do mechanic’s repartee.

“Psychologically we had them on the back foot right from the start.”

“Niki had come to see what we’d done with the cars as he was also a spy. So I told the mechanics, ‘just by mistake’, to take the covers off the cars so you could see the mesh covers on all the intakes. They did this and then they put it back on in a hurry while I ‘looked displeased’.

“And so then Niki broke off the conversation, trotted back to Ferrari and said ‘f**king hell, McLaren have put vents near these grilles over everything in the car, we got to do the same.’

“The whole Ferrari organisation went out to find these grilles, find where they came from and make them for their three cars. Then we put our three cars in the pit road and took all the grilles off the T-Car. Niki came down and said ‘You f**king bastards!’ They came down the pitroad and Ferrari had this shit all over their car – these grilles all over the radiators.

“He had to tear back and tell them to take them all off. Psychologically we had them on the back foot right from the start, there’s all this psychological warfare.”

Niki was plastered across front pages because of his near-death  experience on the track; James was on them because of the life he led  off it. Their battle and clashing personalities, though they were good  friends, had made the world championship a global news shit-fight. Hunt,  outgoing but often lonely in a crowd, pretended to be okay with it.  Lauda didn’t.

Friday’s practice sessions provided blessed relief, therefore, even  though both men suffered understeer on the stickier Goodyears made  available to its faster teams because of the rare presence of  Bridgestone and Dunlop on one-off Japanese entries. The title rivals  finished the day one-hundredth apart on a provisional third row.

Each improved on Saturday – Hunt to second, Lauda to third – and  James, a notoriously slow starter who, by his own estimation, needed to  win the race in order to become world champion, was in a much-improved  mood. Niki’s never budged.

Then it rained. And rained. And rained some more.

The storm that swept in from China a day later than forecast was the  last thing Lauda needed: another element beyond his control. Mist  shrouded the snow cone of Mount Fuji, which supposedly bestowed good  fortune – when visible – and Niki felt hemmed in by circumstance.

The mind-games might well have been in vain, for the monsoon weather which rolled in on Sunday looked like putting the race in jeopardy. If the Grand Prix was cancelled, Lauda would be handed the World Championship.

Not that Hunt was enamoured with the situation. He spoke privately  with Lauda and agreed an attempt to have the race postponed – albeit not  before he stressed that he would take the start if necessary and race  as hard as Niki forced him to.

The Grand Prix Drivers Association had been formed to have some influence on such matters, to stop the interests of teams, the governing body and sponsors taking precedence over drivers’ well being. Hunt and Lauda were both members and convened prior to the race start in an effort to have it stopped.

“They were adamant the race wasn’t going to be held. Bernie (Ecclestone, Brabham team boss) and I were in the race control tower trying to convince them to hold the race.” says Caldwell “And James kept on saying ‘No no, we’re not going to race’. I tried to explain to him that no race meant no World Championship. He replied “No, no, no, it’s totally unsuitable, we can’t race”.

Alistair Caldwell, McLaren Team boss, resorted to more imaginative tactics to swing the mood towards starting the race.

“I was going down (to the pits) getting my car mechanics to start the engines every half an hour, which would make all the other teams start doing it – they didn’t know why. The engines were making this noise ‘woop, woop, woop’”.

The engineer then turned his attention to activating the spectators.

“I was trying to get some enthusiasm from the passive Japanese crowd, they’d been there for hours doing nothing. They weren’t even talking, just sitting in the rain – miserable.

“I said to our tyre man Lance Gibbs ‘Do you think you could get the crowd going?’ So he got up on the pitwall with his ACME Thunderer whistle, which had been given to the boys to use as a horn, for when they pushed the race cars around the paddock.

“He went ‘beep beep’ and hundreds of spectators did the same – got them doing a concert. We then did the business of slow clapping, when it gets to the end, people can’t keep up, they lose co-ordination and you get a huge noise.

“I went back to the tower and the geriatric Japanese officials and said, ‘Look, you’ve got a riot on your hands’ Bernie was there and he said ‘Yeah, you’ve gotta hold the race. Otherwise you’ll have trouble’. So they said ‘Ok we’ll have the race.’”

With the decision made, the cars finally lined up to start at 4pm. The deliberations had been going on so long that the light was now beginning to fade, reducing the limited visibility even further.

Hunt, nervously retching and hacking more than ever, was so  distracted that he took a leak in full view of the spectators. Cue  polite applause. Ominously, he then walked a plank laid across a puddle  and stepped aboard his McLaren M23. He tipped his helmet back against  its roll-hoop and closed his eyes in contemplation. Lauda, crushed by  all that had gone before, hunched forward in his 312 T2’s cockpit. Both  knew that fate was about to be sorely tempted.

Hunt made a blinding start and held a huge lead by the end of the  opening lap. As the rest pecked hesitantly in his rooster-tails, he was  out of sight, both physically and metaphorically.

Meanwhile, Lauda, unable to blink because of his burn injuries, was  drowning in the pack and questioning his sanity. He formulated an answer by lap two. The Ferrari – “a paper boat in a storm” – rolled into the  pitlane and drew up at its garage. Measured. The team descended while  designer Mauro Forghieri craned into its cockpit to ascertain the  problem.

After just 1 lap, Lauda had seen enough. Deeming the conditions too dangerous, and having already nearly lost his life at Nürburgring that year, the Austrian decided it simply wasn’t worth carrying on. He pulled his Ferrari into the pits and walked away from the 1976 World Championship. Lauda, the reigning world champion, had the skill but not the will to continue. It was “murder” out there – and life was for living.

Hunt, as drivers without a world title feel compelled to, pressed on  and kept his date with destiny. Hunt being Hunt, of course, he almost  missed it. Not until his post-race red mist lifted could he be persuaded  that he hadn’t.

With Lauda out the race, Hunt’s task was now a little more straightforward. He simply had to finish third, and the title was his.

The McLaren driver pressed on and by lap 10 his lead had doubled to over 8sec. Meanwhile, interesting movements were afoot further back in the pack.

Local hero Kazuyoshi Hoshino, driving a privately-entered Tyrrell 007, had made his up to third, from 21st on the grid!

More worrying for Hunt was that March’s Vittorio Brambilla had overtaken Andretti and was beginning to hunt him down. By lap 20, Brambilla had closed right up behind the Hunt.

On the next lap, the March driver decided to go for it. Brambilla, known for an erratic driving style, conformed to type on this occasion by inadvertently out-braking himself as he dived down the inside of the McLaren.

Hunt had been wary of Brambilla and was monitoring the situation constantly. In a moment of brilliant anticipation, he allowed the March to spin in front of him, performing the cutback and before carrying on as if almost nothing had happened.

Brambilla dropped to fourth, the danger to Hunt being over for now. Andretti at this point was gradually dropping back through the pack. It was Hunt’s team-mate Jochen Mass who was behind him now, with a McLaren 1-2 now looking very much on the cards.

Seeking to control the race from here on in, the team’s new concern was the drying line which was now appearing on the track. Caldwell put out a pit board sign telling his drivers to cool their wet weather tyres – this was done by searching for wet sections of the track, the water preventing the rubber from overheating.

To his team manager’s frustration, Hunt didn’t appear to be heeding the warnings: “As soon as Mass saw the sign, he pulled over in the water right in front of us. Then on the next lap he came down the right hand side of the track, splashing through the puddles, which cools the tires down, (while) James didn’t react.

“The next lap we gave it to Hunt again, the next lap again, he still didn’t do it. So we took away the pitboard, just gave him the ‘cool tyres’ sign and he still didn’t react. So then everyone in the team started pointing at it (the sign). Everybody in the team pointed, Teddy (Mayer, McLaren Managing Director) and everyone else and he still did nothing.”

Hunt carried on down the dry line, running his tyres way above their recommended temperature, seemingly oblivious to the warnings.

If Hunt wasn’t going to heed the warnings, then Andretti was: “Because we were emphasising this so much, Andretti saw it and started to cool his tyres. So he started running through the puddles. He didn’t have to stop (as a result).

“But James just resolutely drove down the middle of the dry track, and we could never bring him in, because he was never that far ahead. It was never possible to tactically stop him because there’s a big long pitroad at Fuji.”

Jochen Mass, benefitting from his team’s tyre advice, now began to reel in his team-mate. If he got past, he would have no trouble driving off into the distance to take the win.

However, the German’s diligence came to naught, as he spun off and out of contention on lap 36. This would have a huge bearing on the race later.

For now, Hunt was again in the clear. Another challenger, Shadow’s Tom Pryce, moved into second, but he too retired as his Cosworth engine expired on lap 46.

As the grand prix wore on, Hunt remained in a seemingly trance-like state as he stuck to his line, the situation became critical.

Whilst yet another to danger to Hunt had abated, the McLaren driver was now deciding whether to play the percentages. He could either pit to replace his worn tyres – and lose track position – or try and stick it out at the risk of losing so much grip he would be overtaken anyway.

Hunt took the second option. He could afford to drop to third, and this is indeed what happened. On lap 61, he was overtaken not only by Tyrrell’s Patrick Depailler, but also the resurgent Lotus of Andretti.

If Hunt managed to hold position, he would be world champion. For the next 7 laps, the plan appeared to be working. Then, on lap 68, disaster struck.

The McLaren driver suffered not one, but two deflated tyres – both on the left-hand side of the car. They were, as Caldwell puts it, “worn down to the air”. Hunt managed to drag his car round for half a lap before scraping into the pits.

F1 jacks at the time were not designed to lift a car with puncture at the front and rear of the car. While the jack was used to lift the rear of the car, TV shots show Caldwell and other team members lifting the other end of the car themselves to replace the front-left tyre.

It was a long pitstop, and once out, Hunt found himself back in fifth place. There were four laps left and Hunt was two places down on where he needed to be.

Two more laps passed and the Englishman was no further up the order. It looked as if he may have lost his championship chance.

Then, with two laps left of the race to go, Hunt started the fight back. At the exit of T1 he managed to get past the Surtees of Alan Jones. One more place and the championship was his.

Next up was the Ferrari of Clay Regazzoni. It turned out there were some Scuderia politics at play which would work to Hunt’s advantage.

Caldwell filled in the back story: “Ferrari’s reaction to Niki’s crash was to sack Regazzoni (for 1977). He had already been sacked (by Fuji).

“So he was pissed off at Ferrari. When James came charging along, he just stepped out of the way and let him by.”

After benefitting from Regazzoni’s apparent generosity, Hunt was suddenly back in the golden position, the third place he needed to clinch the championship.

The McLaren man just had to keep it on the road for two more laps and he’d take the title. The tension mounted, both in the team pit and back in the UK, where his family were watching the live television feed at 3am.

Despite two nerve-wracking final laps, the Englishman duly brought his McLaren home in third place. He was the new F1 World Champion.

Photographs show Hunt angrily remonstrating with his team as he climbed from the car. He hadn’t realised he’d got the job done.

Caldwell himself had mixed emotions about the whole affair, “He didn’t look at the board and when he came into the pits he started shouting at us, because he didn’t know what happened. He was incredibly annoying on the day. He did drive magnificently, he kept it on the road – that’s one point of view. From my point of view it was the most frustrating day – I could’ve hit him with a baseball bat! He could have won the race, just strolled the world championship. All he had to do was read this pitboard and drive in the water, which is what Andretti did, so he didn’t wear the tyres out and could paddle across the line with the same ones.”

In spite of Hunt seemingly making a championship-losing decision, he had still managed to pull it off.

However, such was Caldwell’s consternation, the two didn’t discuss afterwards.

I was so angry about it. We flew back to England and I wasn’t talking to him on the plane. He was pissed as a newt anyway – we were all pissed as a newt and totally exhausted. He just went to sleep.”

The two never discussed the reasons behind the events, but it didn’t change the result. Three years after making his F1 debut, Hunt was the world champion.

Ten weeks later Hunt arrived in Argentina to begin his title defence  feeling underwhelmed and under-prepared. A few celebratory cigs and tins with his friend Britain’s newly crowned 500cc motorcycle world champion, Barry Sheene, at Fuji and a riotous return flight had been followed by a  disorientating whirl of meetings, interviews and engagements. The  race-by-race title chase had been thrilling: a sequence of one-day  stands. Making it official had cooled the relationship. The love affair  was over.

Though both men would retire summarily during the 1979 season, Hunt  did so because he felt frightened and disillusioned, whereas Lauda did  so because he felt nothing, which frightened him.

Niki, though, had a system – plus a plan to run his own airline – and  ultimately would return to the F1 cockpit and be successful. James,  whose theories were sometimes somewhat scrambled, would not. He bred  budgies instead. You do what you have to do.

Lauda’s decision to stop at Fuji ensured that he would be able to  continue. Hunt’s decision to continue ensured that he would have to stop  sooner rather than later. One racing mind wiped clean, the other  cluttered – and racing.

In spite of his career’s decline, Hunt’s endeavours had captured the imagination of the wider world in a way no racing driver had done before.Hunt knew that life was for living, too. Tragically, however, he had just discovered how best to when fate too soon snatched it from him.

[iturbide]

United in Song

okay so this has been in my drafts for I don’t even know how long and I’m tired of it sitting there collecting dust, so please enjoy this fluffy 3H platonic one-shot.

/////

If there was one thing Dorothea missed about the opera, it was the audience.  There was a certain kind of thrill that came with standing on the stage, staring out into the darkened crowd while the music swelled beneath her voice and feeling their tension, knowing that they held their collective breaths in anticipation, in wonder of her song…there was nothing else quite like it, in her experience.  And while she didn’t really want to go back to that life of endless practices and performances, of cutthroat rivalries and patrons as dangerous as they were wealthy, she felt a little pang standing in the Garreg Mach cathedral, singing her heart out for absolutely no one.

Well, no, that wasn’t quite true.  The monastery choir had finally gotten a few more members, and as the nun in charge dismissed them for the day, Annette and Hilda hurried over before she could wander off.  “Wow, Dorothea!  You were really amazing!!” the little redhead gushed.

“Aw, thanks, Annie,” Dorothea giggled, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.  “You were both great, too!”

“You’re so sweet,” Hilda smiled.  “But we couldn’t hold a candle to you!  Your voice was so beautiful -- and I swear, it filled the whole cathedral.”

Well, that might explain all the sharp looks and decrescendo gestures she’d been getting from the director.

“It’s really a shame nobody else was around to hear,” Annette sighed. 

“I know exactly what you mean.”  Dorothea scanned the rows of empty pews as they walked toward the doors, feeling again that ache of longing.  Even when they did get to stand before an audience, something told her they would just be the choral lead to a devotional hymn for some religious service or another.  “Sometimes I really wish we could just…go out and perform, you know?  Show off a little, hear the applause…”

“…well, why couldn’t we?”

Dorothea paused at the top of the steps, reeling her mind back from another stage dream to focus on Hilda.  “I didn’t think they did that here.”

“Not that I’ve seen.  Or heard about,” Annette agreed.

“So why not do something about it?” Hilda asked.  “Put on a musical performance!  There’s lots of places that would work, like the lawn outside the classrooms, or the walk along the dormitories…”

“Would that really bring in an audience, though?” Annette pointed out.  “Back in Fhirdiad you’d see performers doing shows on street corners, but they never really drew crowds or anything.”

“And wouldn’t it be nice to have a real stage, and a real audience?” Dorothea sighed.  It was a quiet walk across the bridge to the monastery…and the whole way, she just kept turning Hilda’s suggestion over and over.  It really would be nice to have an opportunity to perform…maybe she could ask Professor Manuela about it--

“This is it!!”

Dorothea jumped at Annette’s excited squeak, whirling just in time to see her grab something off the Bulletin Board.  “What is?” she asked, taking the parchment and smoothing it out. 

“A flier for the Weapons Tourney?” Hilda read over her shoulder.  Apparently this month’s challenge was for axe-wielders, and while the pink-haired noble might excel, something told Dorothea that she wouldn’t go anywhere near it without proper incentive from the Professor.

“No!  …well, I mean, yes, that’s what it is, but I mean -- this is the answer!  We have a music tournament!”

“…a music tournament?” Dorothea repeated.

“Yeah!” Annette giggled.  “We could have sign-ups, and people could bring their instruments or sing, and it could have brackets just like they do in the training grounds, only they’d be competing with their music!  And the audience response could be how the winner’s picked!”

Dorothea felt a smile dawn across her face.  “…Annie, that’s brilliant!  We could get a sponsor to help judge ties, and offer a grand prize for the winner…”

“We could make fliers the way they do for the training ground matches, too!” Hilda added.

“I bet if we ask around the monastery, we could get tons of sign-ups -- and I’m sure lots of people would want to see it!” Annette insisted.  “Ooh, this is so exciting!!”

“It’s a wonderful idea,” Dorothea agreed.  “And I’m sure if we join forces, we can make it into a dazzling show.”

As they put their heads together to plan, for the first time in ages, she felt a thrill of excitement for what lay ahead.  Garreg Mach might not have much appreciation for music now -- but if they got their way, Dorothea would make sure that changed.

-----

“A music show?  Oh, you mean like they’ve got at the fair?  Hey, count me in!  Are you gonna have snacks?”

“No, Raph,” Dorothea sighed. 

“You sure?  Everybody likes good food -- I bet you’d get a ton of people to come if they could eat while they watched.”

She shook her head, fighting back a smile.  It was hard to be frustrated with him when he was so enthusiastic, but she did wish he’d think about more than food.  “Do they have snacks for the weapon tournaments at the training grounds?”

“Heck yeah they do!” he laughed.  “I never miss a tourney, they’ve always got something for the people in the stands…”

“…huh.”  She hadn’t known that.  Maybe they could ask about refreshments: after all, everything else had been going splendidly so far.  Professor Manuela had been over the moon when they approached her with the idea, and had swiftly appointed herself as their ‘impartial’ judge (said with a wink that made Dorothea certain she was far more partial than she’d ever admit to being); while the former diva took to planning and preparations, including venue selection and construction, she left the three students in charge of gauging interest and getting early sign-ups so they could start preparing their brackets.  Hilda, rather expectedly, had complained of feeling poorly, so Dorothea had agreed to help out in canvasing the Golden Deer…which had led her, rather unexpectedly, to Raphael and his surprisingly helpful suggestion.

“Alright,” she agreed, making a note for later.  “I’ll see what we can do about snacks, then.”

“All right!!” he cheered.  “You’re the best, Dorothea!”

“Aw, thank you,” she smiled.  “But would you want to take part?  You know, be up on the stage in front of the audience?  We’re looking for any kind of musical talent, whether you sing or play an instrument…”

His face scrunched up for a minute in deep, somewhat painful-looking thought.  “Hmmm…I’m mostly good for muscle,” he shrugged.  “Don’t get me wrong, I love music!  I’m just not much good at makin’ it -- oh, hey, have you asked Bernadetta yet?”

“Bernie?”

“Yeah!  Oh, man, she’s got this little brass thingy she plays -- she was playin’ it in the greenhouse one day, an’ I heard it from all the way in the training grounds!  It was the best thing I’d ever heard!”

“Interesting,” Dorothea mused, scribbling another little note down.

“You didn’t know?”

“Bernie’s pretty shy about her talents,” Dorothea confided.  “Seems she’s got all kinds of hidden ones…”

“Uh…if you go ask her, can you maybe…not tell her I told you?” he asked nervously.  “See, uh…she got pretty upset when I found out, and made me promise not to tell anybody, but then you came talking about music an’ stuff and I just got real excited about maybe seein’ her up there an’ hearin’ it again, so…”

“Oh, Raph, you’re a sweetheart, aren’t you?” she giggled.  “Don’t worry.  I won’t say a word.”

“Thanks, Dorothea,” he beamed.  “You really are the best.”

-----

“M-music show?  Me?  Perform!?  How did you find out?  Did Raphael tell you!?” Bernadetta demanded through the tiny crack between the doors of her room.

“Raphael?  I haven’t talked to him,” Dorothea lied.  “Hilda’s asking around with the Golden Deer, since they’re her classmates, just like Annette’s asking the Blue Lions and I’m asking all my fellow Eagles.  We’re trying to get a list together of students who want to take part.  Do you have any musical talents, Bernie?”

“N-n-no!” she stammered.  “Nope, not me, Bernie’s just good for staying out of the way, yes indeed…”

“I think you’re good for a lot more than that,” Dorothea insisted.  “I know you’ve got so much talent, and it’s such a shame to hide it all away.  Maybe you sing in here, or play an oboe when we’re all away from the dorms…”

“Trumpet,” the archer mumbled.  “B-but I could never get up in front of so many people!”

“Oh, but from on stage, under the lights, you can’t even see most of the audience -- and wouldn’t it be great to share all that talent with the whole academy?”

“Maybe for you!” the archer squeaked.  “All those people out there in the dark, staring at me, and no place to hide?  That s-sounds terrifying!”

…Dorothea actually hadn’t thought about that.  She was so used to basking in the attention…but that would be scary for someone as shy as Bernadetta.  “That’s okay,” she smiled.  “You don’t have to.  But…would you maybe come to watch?  Ferdie and I have already signed up to take part, and we could always use someone to cheer for us.”

“…m-maybe,” came the muffled reply.

“And if you do change your mind about being on stage, you know we’ll both be cheering you on, right?” she coaxed.  “Annette even told me that Felix promised to come watch the performances, and you know how he feels about everything that isn’t training.  We’d all really love it if you joined in.”

Silence from the other side of the doors.  Had she pushed too hard…?

“I’ll…I-I’ll think about it.”

Beaming, Dorothea made a note on her sign-up sheet.  “That’s all we’d ask for.  Just let me know, okay?”

And maybe it was her imagination, but she thought she heard the smallest sound of agreement before the doors clicked firmly shut between them. 

-----

Even in her fantasies, Dorothea never could have dreamed things would go this well.  Not only did they get enough sign-ups to make a full five-round bracket, the whole monastery was buzzing with anticipation days before the event.  It reminded her a little of Enbarr the week before a Mittelfrank production, where every group she passed on the street seemed to be talking about the upcoming show -- whether it was about their excitement to see the spectacle or despair over not getting one of the endlessly coveted (and frightfully limited) tickets.  Here, thankfully, seating was hardly an issue, since Professor Manuela had managed to secure the Reception Hall for the event: the whole student body could fit there with standing room to spare, even with the stage taking up the front quarter.

Come the morning of the show, posters listing the contestants appeared on every bulletin board, and Dorothea scanned the starting matches before the thought of breakfast even occurred to her.  She recognized more than a few names: Ferdinand of course, and herself (naturally), as well as Lorenz (unfortunately), Hilda, Annette, and even Bernie.

It was all so exciting, she could hardly bear it.

Time crawled by while she waited for the tournament to begin.  Before noon she’d warmed up, improvised a few little tunes as practice, and rehearsed a few of her favorite songs in preparation.  By the time the Reception Hall opened to the competitors, she’d chosen her starting and ending arrangements and decided on the pieces she would use if she faced any real competition.  And once the doors opened and the audience began to crowd into the available seats, she felt her heart begin to race in anticipation of what was soon to come. 

She didn’t even mind that she had to wait.  The first match, to her delight, featured Annette and Bernie: blushing fiercely, the little red-head made her way cheerfully through an obviously original tune, while Dorothea’s fellow Eagle stuck to a familiar Imperial melody, squeezing her eyes shut tight and playing her trumpet at the stage rather than the audience.  In spite of that, it was a remarkable performance, and Bernie might have won just by virtue of Raphael’s enthusiastic applause -- but his thunderous cheer startled the poor recluse and sent her bolting from the stage before the match could be officially declared, forfeiting her chance to proceed.  But that might have been for the best, she supposed: Bernie clearly wasn’t big on the spotlight. 

The rest of the first round and all of the second went smoothly enough.  Though she didn’t bother watching every pair, she saw both Ferdinand and Annette proceed on to the quarterfinals, while Hilda lost to Lorenz in her second bout (though the noblewoman hardly seemed bothered by the loss).  Dorothea’s own matches barely required any effort on her part to win: she’d spent so long practicing her favorite songs from her favorite operas in the days leading up to this competition, but a few simple melodies were all it took to ensure that she made it through the preliminaries.  Even against her third opponent, all it took was the chorus from an Adrestian folksong to seal her victory...though Annette lost her own bout against Ferdinand in the same round.  Dorothea congratulated her all the same, and promised to win for Annie’s sake -- perhaps a bold promise from anyone else, but one that the former Mittelfrank diva felt assured she could keep.

And sure enough, in the semifinals she not only faced her fellow Eagle but beat him handily with one of the arias she’d so carefully prepared.  He lost quite gracefully, too, applauding her as enthusiastically as the audience itself and conceding even before Profesor Manuela could announce the final judgment.  And with the round done, Dorothea made her way back behind the stage, humming to herself as she waited for the intermission to end and the finals to begin…

“Congratulations on sweeping the competition, Dorothea.”

She paused, turning to see the leader of the Golden Deer House grinning at her from a few feet away.  Mustering up a pleasant enough smile, she offered a nod in greeting.  “Why, thank you, Claude.  Are you here to wish Lorenz well before I crush him?”

The nobleman blinked.  “Why would I do that?  Lorenz got knocked out in the last round.” 

Dorothea stared at him for a long, silent moment.  “To who?” she demanded, hunting about for a bracket that might give her an answer--

“...me, actually.”

Slowly, carefully, she turned again to face the leader of the Golden Deer.  “Guess you weren’t watching the match,” he chuckled, hefting an odd lute-like instrument.  “Lorenz was...less than thrilled with the outcome, if it helps.”

Actually, it just made her regret all the more that she hadn’t paid attention: she’d been looking forward to seeing his face when he finally lost.  “Well, I suppose congratulations are in order for you, too, then,” she said, turning away from him again.  “May the best musician win.”

“Oh, uh...about that.”

She glanced at him over her shoulder, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear as he drummed his fingertips along the neck of his instrument.  “I was...well.  I was wondering how you’d feel about calling it a draw.”

A thin smile carved its way across her face.  “Are you that confident you can beat me, Claude?”

“Hardly,” he scoffed.  “I have no doubt that you’d mop the floor with me.”  She felt sure he was flattering her -- but she waited all the same, watching his grin soften almost shyly, though it still didn’t quite touch his eyes.  “I was just...hoping I could perform with you, instead of having to compete against you.  Y’know, everything here at the monastery is about pitting us against each other: the weapon tourneys, the fishing competition, and now this...I feel like we could put on a better show working together than we could separately trying to one-up each other.  You can have the prize, too, if you want,” he added.  “Pretty sure you’d win it anyway, but...what do you say?”

Beyond the curtain, she heard Professor Manuela take the stage again and announce the final round to the audience.  Claude only watched Dorothea, though, seeming content to be patient and wait for her even as their names rang out over the wild cheering of the crowd.

And at last she smiled, lifting a hand to cup her cheek.  “How are you at improvising with that lute of yours?”

“If you can sing a few bars, I can probably make something work,” he grinned. 

“Why don’t we put that to the test?”

“With pleasure,” he agreed, bowing playfully before offering his arm to her.  Returning the gesture with a teasing curtsy of her own, Dorothea accepted -- and they walked out onto the stage together, applause washing over them in waves of wondrous sound.  They parted smoothly, Claude taking up his instrument and strumming a few notes to ensure it was properly in tune before looking expectantly to her, waiting for her lead; Dorothea turned her own attention to the darkness, savoring the anticipation of the shadowed audience before her...and finally beginning to sing, the somber melody echoing throughout the crowded reception hall. 

“Reach for my hand, I’ll soar away, Into the dawn, oh I wish I could stay…”

A soft chord joined in, the notes as sweet and clear as her own...and yet it did not overpower her voice: instead it seemed to carry the words higher, elevating the music in ways she had not heard since she left the Mittelfrank Opera House.  She did not falter, though: instead she continued, allowing a smile to creep into her voice as she sang.

“Here in cherished halls, in peaceful days I fear the edge of dawn, knowing time betrays…”

“Is this really gonna be the last song we do?” Claude asked, his voice carrying out into the dark and startling her back to reality.  “Come on, Dorothea, we’ve gotta liven it up a little!”

Even as he spoke, his fingers flew over the strings, keeping the key but tumbling into a bright, rousing accompaniment.  He winked at her when she turned to stare at him, repeating the same refrain in invitation...and though she’d only ever heard the piece as a wandering lament before, she could not deny his compelling harmony. 

Their music rang through the reception hall, her voice rising into the rafters on the strum of lute strings...and for the first time since she’d come to the Officer’s Academy, Dorothea felt that familiar, wonderful thrill again as the enraptured crowd watched them perform their duet on the stage.  

-----

In the fortnight following the tourney, Dorothea had become the most popular girl in Garreg Mach.  It seemed like every young man, noble birth or otherwise, wanted a moment of her time, a scrap of her attention...and, of course, a chance to hear her sing again.  

While they’d agreed to a draw before ever taking the stage, Claude had gracefully conceded when Professor Manuela declared Dorothea the winner.  It had bothered her when it happened -- all the more for how she couldn’t correct the matter over the riotous applause -- and try as she might over the intervening days, she’d still been unable to set the record straight with anyone she spoke with (aside from Hilda, who didn’t seem the least bit surprised to hear it).  But strangest of all was the fact, despite now having an audience eager to hear her perform again...she couldn’t find that thrill anymore.  It had been there while she was on stage with Claude, but in every performance since -- no matter how many people she had hanging on her every note -- she just felt the same hollow sort of yearning she had in the cathedral before all of this began. 

Dorothea sighed as she made her way out of the dining hall, taking the stairs down to the fishing pond and wandering toward the dormitories.  All the attention did get tiring after a while; luckily the grounds seemed deserted this afternoon, and she stretched her arms high as she tipped her head back, breathing in the crisp autumn air while the sun warmed her face and the soft sound of music drifted by…

She stopped, scanning the lawn and the path along the row of dorms.  No one was there that she could see, but she could hear the strum of lute strings; she hurried on, listening to the music grow louder and louder until she felt certain she was close -- but the sound was too clear to be coming from behind the closed doors, and there was still no one around that she could see.  “Claude?” she called, raising her voice as much as she dared. 

The music stopped.  “Dorothea?” the nobleman’s voice replied -- not from beside or behind her, but from above.  

Tilting her head back and shading her eyes, she stared at the young man peering at her over the eaves of the dormitory roof.  “What are you doing up there?” she asked. 

“Playing,” he said. 

“How did you even get up there?  And why are you playing on the roof, for that matter?”

“It’s complicated,” he shrugged.  “...well, alright, it’s not that complicated, but...should I come down so we can talk?”

Dorothea opened her mouth to agree...and paused.  “...I could always come up,” she offered.  

A grin twitched across his face.  “I’ll meet you at my room, then,” he laughed, waving before disappearing from view.  Hurrying back down to the greenhouses, she turned into the stairwell leading to the second floor of dorms where most of the noble students stayed; at the top of the steps, she saw Claude poke his head out into the hall, beaming at the sight of her.  Smiling despite herself, Dorothea hurried over and ducked past him without even thinking...and as he closed the doors, she stifled a giggle at the sight of his room.  

She had seen cluttered her share of dorms before -- Linhardt’s came immediately to mind -- but she’d never seen anything quite like this, with books taking up half the bed, papers spilling off the desk and onto the floor, and shelves cluttered with a mix of plants, vials, and strange brass instruments she couldn’t identify.  Claude seemed briefly puzzled by her reaction...though, after another moment, he rather sheepishly began gathering up the parchment piled on his chair to give her a place to sit.  “So what can I do for you?” 

“Well, first of all I’d like to know how you got onto the roof,” she replied.  “And off it so fast, for that matter.”

He quirked one eyebrow in apparent surprise.  “What, that?  It’s easy.”  Dropping the papers in a haphazard pile on the desk, he stepped up onto the wide ledge beneath the open window, leaning out into empty space and stretching one arm up...

Claude jumped. 

Dorothea lunged for him, knowing already it was too late -- but he did not fall.  She stumbled into the sill, gaping as he effortlessly pulled himself up out of sight; crawling up onto the ledge, she cautiously poked her head out the window...and saw him lean out over the eave, grinning down at her from his perch.  “That doesn’t look easy to me,” Dorothea pointed out. 

“It just takes some practice,” he laughed.  “Want to come up?  The view’s great,” he added, reaching a hand down to her. 

The sensible, logical, rational part of her brain insisted that she’d rather not break her neck trying to get a nice view of the monastery...even as she extended her own arm, gripping his wrist and feeling him hold fast.  She heard the instructions he gave her -- she was more than certain of that, since she never would have done this on her own -- but whatever he’d said escaped her the moment she stepped off the ledge into empty air, clutching tight to Claude’s wrist even as his pleasant laughter rang in her ears.  In the end he did most of the work pulling her up beside him...but once she caught her breath and her heart stopped feeling like a bird trying to escape its cage, she had to admit that he was right: the campus was lovely from so high up. 

“You doing okay?” he asked, patting her shoulder gently. 

“Better, I think,” she agreed, scooting further back from the edge.  “So, that explains how you got up here -- now why are we here?”

“Well, in my case it’s because it’s a nice day, I don’t have anything going on, and I’m tired of dealing with Lorenz, so I figured I’d come up here and play a bit.  He can yell all he wants from down there, but I’m not stopping unless he gets on this roof to make me.”  As he spoke, he removed the lute strapped to his back, strumming a few notes and idly beginning to tune it again.  “But what brings you up here?”

“Well...actually, I was looking for you,” she admitted, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear.  “I haven’t seen much of you since the music tourney.”

“You’ve been busy,” he winked. 

Dorothea rolled her eyes, leaning back against the slightly pitched roof.  “Don’t remind me,  I needed to get away from it for a while.”

“Really?  I thought you’d be happy about all the attention.”

“I was at first,” she sighed, “and it’s been wonderful to have more chances to sing, but…”

She trailed off, watching a few wispy clouds wandering across the pale blue sky.  After a moment, the quiet strum of lute strings fell silent; glancing over at the nobleman, she found him watching her with interest, his head canting slightly to one side as he gestured for her to continue.  “It...doesn’t feel like I thought it would.  Back in the opera, it was always so grand and emotional, singing to an audience -- I loved that feeling, and it’s one of the things I’ve missed most since I left.  I’d hoped the competition would bring it back, and singing with you I found it again, but...I haven’t felt it since.  I’ve been feeling guilty about the way it ended up, and…”

“Hey, I said from the start that you’d mop the floor with me in a competition,” he laughed.  “I don’t mind.  I’m glad I got the chance to perform with you -- that was my prize.”  

“Be serious,” she huffed.  “I’m trying to apologize!”

“And I’m saying you don’t have to -- it’s not like you had a say in Professor Manuela deciding on a winner.”

“But if I don’t get it sorted out, how am I supposed to enjoy singing like I used to?”

“Are you sure guilt is what’s keeping you from it?”

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she stared at him.  “What do you mean?”

“You said that you haven’t felt that thrill since you left the opera.  You didn’t get it again until the finals, right?”  She nodded in agreement.  “And then after the finals it was gone again?”  Again, she nodded in agreement.  “So what was different about the finals, compared to everything before and after?”

“The drama of the grand finale?” she offered. 

“Well, that, too,” he chuckled, “but you weren’t performing alone, either: your melody had a harmony.”

Dorothea scoffed at the notion.  “That seems…”

She trailed off as Claude leaned forward, propping his chin on his hands.  She hadn’t thought of it like that before, but...her fondest memories from the opera were of performances with accompaniment: grand arias carried by a full orchestra, soft odes lilting over quavering strings.  “...possible,” she conceded. 

“So maybe what you were really looking for was a chance to sing with somebody, instead of going it alone or singing over them.”

“I’m flattered you think I’m so selfless,” she giggled.  “Really, I just wanted an audience.”  But even so, that final performance with him, building on one another’s leads and creating something far grander and more beautiful than Dorothea could have done alone...it had brought with it a familiar, delightful frisson. 

“Well, I know I had more fun playing with you than I did taking Lorenz down a peg -- and I really enjoyed that,” Claude laughed, strumming his lute again, “and I, for one, would be honored to reprise the performance -- though, fair warning, I can’t promise a crowd this time around.”

“You know, I am free this afternoon,” she grinned.  He beamed back at her, picking a cheerful tune on his lute strings -- an Adrestian folksong she recognized instantly; as she started in on the first verse and their duet drifted out over the quiet campus, she felt the thrill lift her heart again...and maybe it was just her imagination, but she swore Claude’s smile finally reached his eyes.

[ktlsyrtis]

me, squinting at all these names in asks: who the fuck are any of these people??? follow up question: rank you fave RRCM characters in some logistical order with indicators of why

I'm gonna have to do separate CR/JR lists or my brain is gonna explode lol. Also, I'm not an actor deep dive person, so I def haven't seen all of their stuff

Fave Catherine Russell characters:

Serena Wendy Campbell - my love, my life, the most beautiful human disaster

Elly Chandler - the literal definition of spunk, always trying to hide her pain behind sass (no YOU have a type lol)

Issy (Always & Everyone) - Sharp, witty, take no shit; what's not to love??

Rachel Cazalet - just the sweetest, softest bean in the whole wide world

Helen Lynley - we don't get enough of her character, but the hair alone gets her on this list 😍

Fave Jemma Redgrave characters:

Bernie Wolfe - world's okayest lesbian, who I sometimes identify WAY too strongly with lol

Jill Raymond - the toppiest top to ever top lol

Zoe Evans - so beautiful and so broken, she is utterly fascinating to me

Grace Finnegan - I would love a whole follow up series about her! In the meantime, I'm just gonna go re-read @batnbreakfast's amazing fic lol

Jenna Dean - one word: OVERALLS 😍

[ducktracy]

184. the woods are full of cuckoos (1937)

release date: december 4th, 1937

series: merrie melodies

director: frank tashlin

starring: mel blanc (owlcott, walter finchell, milton squirrel, wendell howl, fox, raven mcquandry), tedd pierce (ben birdie, tizzie fish, andy bovine), sara berner (polly gillette, canary livingstone)

this cartoon gets the honorable award of possibly being the most dated warner bros. shorts in its vast repertoire of cartoons. not to worry! this will be a fun cartoon to unpack—i love delving into the shorts that involve extensive research. learning something new is something that‘s very rewarding to me, and i hope it is to you, too!

a giant ode to the short lived radio program community sing (lasting from 1936-1937), the short chronicles a woodland radio show hosted by a variety of caricatured animals putting on various acts.

iris in to the ringing of a bell. a pudgy, bespectacled owl rings it as he stands illuminated by the moonlight, preaching to all of the woodland critters, ready to start the show. he introduces himself as “owlcott”, a take on commentator alexander woollcott. he “blandly announces” (his words, not mine) the introduction of the master of ceremonies, ben birdie--a bird caricature of radio personality ben bernie, “the old maestro”.

birdie’s caricature is not new to audience’s eyes. the caricature, along with a handful of others, is reused from friz freleng’s the coocoo nut grove from 1936, a short that is very similar in vein to this one. tedd pierce provides birdie’s suave, velvety vocals as he introduces the program, only to be interrupted by the nasally cries of mel blanc. out pops walter finchell, a caricature of bernie’s faux-enemy walter winchell, both of whom carrying a notorious (and fake) feud in the radio-verse. it was common for winchell to interrupt the smooth-talking bernie, either throwing pranks or remarks his way, to which bernie dismissed every time. indeed, a signature tashlin upshot angle reveals finchell dropping an egg on top of birdie, who blocks it nonchalantly with a handy umbrella.

art loomer’s backgrounds for the cartoon are absolutely gorgeous. they’re vibrant in color, very lush and painterly, but remain playful and sophisticated at the same time. they certainly serve as a highlight to the short. and, as always, carl stalling’s scores are a blast to hear--his sardonic, wah-wah rendition of “cause my baby says it’s so” is a jolly juxtaposition to the prior score of “love is on the air tonight”, the latter being the song’s cartoon debut. it would be reused in cartoons such as the daffy doc, whereas “cause my baby says its so” was heard previously in rover’s rival.

birdie introduces a clever squirrel caricature of milton berle, whose routine gets interrupted by a little parrot named polly. polly is a take on eileen barton’s character, little jolly gillette, who was portrayed as the daughter of the show’s sponsor. polly and milton go through their act together, polly bluntly (yet innocently) announcing “my daddy says ya gotta let me sing ‘cause he’s a sponsor!” you can listen to real recordings of their banter here!

volney white’s animation of milton and polly is lively and jovial, constantly moving. milton energetically introduces us to our next star, pointing in the wrong direction and fixing it last second as he gestures towards a bird caricature of country singer wendell hall.

even if viewers don’t recognize the bird’s counterpart, they will most certainly recognize his voice--mel uses his foghorn leghorn voice for wendell “howl”. of course, foghorn wouldn’t debut for another 9 years, but that’s another story. the animation of the raucous bird is fun to watch as he extends his neck and wraps it around in coils around the microphone stand. random? yes, but fun nevertheless.

perhaps even more commendable is the staggering crowd shot that succeeds wendell’s scenes. the crowd is mirrored horizontally, but that doesn’t lessen the blow from how claustrophobic it is. wendell asks the audience to get out their songbooks and turn to page “22... no, page 44. uh, no, uh, page 28. uh, 42, uh, 36, uh, 45...” 

wendell is transformed from an entertainer to an auctioneer, spitting out numbers at rapid pace as his crowd frantically tears through their songbooks. finally, he concedes. “oh, never mind. we won’t use the books.” off screen, the crowd roars in unison: “OH YES WE WILL!” with that, wendell is generously showered with a barrage of books, buried in the pile of rejected papers. the timing of the scene is comedically sharp and energetic, one of the more entertaining acts of the cartoon.

now, for the real song number, lead by goat and bear caricatures of billy jones and ernie hare (would a rabbit caricature be too on the nose?) respectively, animated by volney white. they march out onto the stage--er, tree trunk--and open the curtains to reveal a sing-along to the eponymous song. thus, the camera pans into the lyrics as everybody bursts into the all-too-earworm-causing song number. 

as the crowd, ben birdie and walter finchell all lend their voices to the song, a fox caricature of fred allen sings “swanee river”, clashing with the unity of everybody else. in a nod to friz freleng’s toy town hall where the same routine was executed, a little bunny excitedly coos “ohhhh, mr. allen! you’re singing the wrong sooooong!” the fox bursts into everybody’s favorite Mel Blanc Yell as he repeats a frequent ‘30s catchphrase: “WHY DON’T SOMEBODY TELL ME THESE THINGS!?”

featured in the song is a seemingly interminable cast of celebrity caricatures, all introduced as the camera pans across the screen, each lending their voice to part of the song. some puns require more effort than others (dick powell as “dick fowl” rolls off the tongue better than al jolson as “al goatson”). caricatures include: 

eddie cantor as eddie gander, sophie tucker as sophie turkey, w.c. fields as w.c. fieldmouse, dick powell as dick fowl, fats waller as fats swallow, deanna durbin as deanna terrapin, irvin s. cobb as irvin s. frog, fred macmurray as fred mcfurry, bing crosby as bing crowsby, al jolson as al goatson, ruby keeler as ruby squealer, lanny ross as lanny hoss, grace moore as grace moose, and finally lily pons as lily swans.

speaking of grace and lily, they’re both highlighted as they fight to out-perform each other, seeing who can sing the highest note. tashlin pulls of a rather intriguing camera move: as the pan settles on the two of them, the background changes. it’s a subtle maneuver, but smart thinking nonetheless--especially since the camera extends into a vertical pan. as both women fight to sing the highest note, their necks extend, both of them scaling high into the night sky, harmonizing on one final shrill note. they both crumple back into the stands, exhausted by their efforts. some fun exaggerated animation for sure--one wonders how much further this would have been pushed had this been tashlin’s second stint at WB rather than his first. his speed often rivaled, if not out-performed, tex avery’s.

birdie and finchell have a brief interstitial together before making way for a raven caricature of haven macquarrie (raven mcquandry). his sequence is almost jarringly short, but full of fun drawings and poses--the pose of him standing curtly with his arms crossed is awfully reminiscent of izzy ellis’ work under tashlin and later bob clampett in the mid ‘40s. mcquandry asks “do YOU wanna be an actor?”, parotting the name of his real life counterpart’s show so do you want to be an actor? the audience shouts “NO!” in unison, causing mcquandry to do a take and shrug dubiously. though the scene is only a few short seconds, the animation brings forth some much needed vitality.

next is a penguin caricature of joe penner, singing a hilariously out-of-tune rendition of “my green fedora”. the animation is reused from the cartoon of the same name (notice how he doesn’t have penguin feet!), which was also used in toy town hall. not a complaint, but more an observation--this is by far the most humorous performance of the song yet, sung by blanc rather than tommy bond.

another fun scene with some vivacious animation is a sequence featuring a mule caricature of martha raye (dubbed moutha bray), singing a cover of “how could you?”, which has been featured as an underscore in cartoons such as porky’s badtime story and its later remake, tick tock tuckered. raye’s large mouth served as prime material for caricatures, as we see here. the animation is snappy, fun, and vivid--she finishes her song by “swallowing” the camera, an old trick that beckons memories of the harman and ising cartoons of animation past. 

an interesting trend in the ‘30s WB cartoons is the trend of playing with the iris, whether it was the closing iris out or an iris in between transitions. tex avery would consistently play with the final iris out on his cartoons, whereas directors such as friz freleng and bob clampett would use one as a transition between scenes. here, tashlin uses the “swallow the camera” technique as a segue for an iris in, tedd pierce’s falsetto squeaking “hello folksies!” as we’re introduced to a fish caricature of tizzie lish, a character played by bill comstock on al pearce and his gang.

though tizzie has long faded into obscurity (as has the entire community sing radio show), it’s still quite easy to appreciate pierce’s vocals and mannerisms as he portrays the character. it’s always a joy to hear him doing voices for cartoons--he’s never been my favorite writer on the crew, but he was an excellent talent as a voice actor. his squeaky deliveries, matter of fact deliveries “mix them up... are you mixing? my friends say i’m a good mixer. are you? or aren’t you?” as tizzie haphazardly dumps food items and their respective utensils into a bowl and prepares the meal are nothing short of hilarious. the timing is very well executed and can be appreciated regardless of background knowledge.

after humming a pitchy rendition of “the lady in red” while waiting for her concoction to bake in the waffle iron, tizzie removes the homemade waffle and discards it, instructing the audience “now take the ‘wiffle’ out and eat the iron. you must have iron in your system. or should you?” thus concludes tizzie’s act, certainly heightened in hilarity by pierce’s vocals and timing.

for the final act, ben birdie introduces a possum caricature of louella parsons, the host of the radio program hollywood hotel, which served as a way to advertise upcoming movies by featuring guest stars enacting some of the scenes. here, we have caricatures of jack benny (as jack bunny, the first of his many reoccurrences), mary livingstone (canary livingstone), and andy devine (andy bovine).

tedd pierce voices andy bovine, whose voice burlusqued not only in this cartoon, but to a greater extent in friz freleng’s my little buckeroo not even a year later. devine, a western star, was notorious for his scratchy, shrill voice which was rife for comedic opportunity. indeed, this scene here with pierce’s vocals is nothing short of hilarious: 

the trio chronicle the prodigal’s return, in which bunny and canary coo over their baby son. out of the bassinet pops incongruously large bovine, who shrieks “HOWDY MAAAA! HI PAAAA!”, the sheer volume of his voice enough to blow both of his parents away and out of the scene. and, with that, the scene ends, red curtains colorized from porky’s romance marking the sequence’s end. short, sweet, to the point, and hilarious.

ending right where the cartoon began, the owl caricature of alexander woollcott bids us farewell, the iris closing in on the bell he rings as he exclaims that all is well.

like so many other cartoons i’ve reviewed, this is one that i slowly warmed up to upon rewatching it and typing out the review for myself. i didn’t entirely dislike the cartoon upon my first watch, but it’s undeniably dated and deserves its title as possibly the most dated cartoon. without further research, some of the jokes and caricatures (if not all of them) are difficult to appreciate. the animation has bursts of energy throughout the short, the highlights being the scenes featuring raven mcquarry and moutha bray, but otherwise remains relatively simple and conservative. tashlin does incorporate a few intriguing camera angles throughout the cartoon, but many other entries of his are far more cinematic.

however, despite all of that, this cartoon is not without its bonuses: art loomer’s backgrounds are stunningly gorgeous and rich, and as someone who loves the lush, painterly backgrounds of the 1930s, this is heaven to me. and, as i mentioned previously, tedd pierce’s scenes are great--the tizzie fish and andy bovine sequences are undeniable comedic highlights.

so, if you’re willing to dedicate time to put in the research for this cartoon, you’ll find it’s quite fascinating! i’m certain this was a much bigger gut-buster in 1937 than it is in 2020, but even then, this is a good cartoon for people such as myself who love to learn more information and seek out facts. as a result, i’d recommend it to people who fall into that category. if you’re just someone who wants a good laugh and a leisurely watch, there are more interesting cartoons that lie ahead. you won’t miss much by skipping it.

with that said, here’s the link!

[shinyasahalo]

Top 60 AO3 TV/Streaming Service Fem Ships (Sept. 11, 2024)

(F/F) Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor (Supergirl) 21,811 fics

(F/F) Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan (Once Upon a Time) 16,419 fics

(F/F) Clarke Griffin/Lexa (The 100) 13,301 fics

(F/F) Robin Buckley/Nancy Wheeler (Stranger Things) 8,712 fics

(F/F) Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair (Wednesday) 6,749 fics

(F/F) Alex Danvers/Maggie Sawyer (Supergirl) 6,539 fics

(F/F) Waverley Earp/Nicole Haught (Wynonna Earp) 6,167 fics

(F&F) Clarke Griffin & Lexa (The 100) 4,702 fics

(FGQ/F) Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan (Doctor Who) 4,507 fics

(F/F) Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova (Killing Eve) 3,934 fics

(F/F) Maya Bishop/Carina DeLuca (Station 19) 3,801 fics

(F/F) Sister Beatrice/Ava Silva (Warrior Nun) 3,734 fics

(F/F) Santana Lopez/Brittany S. Pierce (Glee) 3,725 fics

(F/F) Sara Lance/Ava Sharpe (Legends of Tomorrow) 3,400 fics

(F/F) Kara Danvers/Cat Grant (Supergirl) 3,395 fics

(F/F) Root | Samantha Groves/Sameen Shaw (Person of Interest) 3,337 fics

(F&F) Alex Danvers & Kara Danvers (Supergirl) 3,137 fics

(F/F) Jennifer "JJ" Jareau/Emily Prentiss (Criminal Minds) 3,001 fics

(F&F) Kara Danvers & Lena Luthor (Supergirl) 2,974 fics

(F/F) Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray (Glee) 2,950 fics

(F/F) Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe (Holby City) 2,896 fics

(F/F) Alicent Hightower/Rhaenyra Targaryen (House of the Dragon) 2,797 fics

(F/F) Hope Mikaelson/Josie Saltzman (Legacies) 2,593 fics

(F/F) Cheryl Blossom/Toni Topaz (Riverdale) 2,512 fics

(F/F) Yelena Belova/Kate Bishop (Hawkeye) 2,505 fics

(F/F) Peggy Carter/Angie Martinelli (Agent Carter) 2,442 fics

(F/F) Maura Isles/Jane Rizzoli (Rizzoli & Isles) 2,285 fics

(F/F) Gwen/Morgana (Merlin) 2,265 fics

(F&F) Maya Bishop & Carina DeLuca (Station 19) 2,245 fics

(F/F) Allison Argent/Lydia Martin (Teen Wolf) 2,073 fics

(F/F) Eleven | Jane Hopper/Maxine "Max" Mayfield (Stranger Things) 2,043 fics

(F/F) Jemma Simmons/Skye | Daisy Johnson (Agents of SHIELD) 1,887 fics

(F/F) Myaka Bering/Helena "HG" Wells (Warehouse 13) 1,872 fics

(F/F) Meredith Grey/Addison Montgomery (Grey's Anatomy) 1,872 fics

(F&F) Wednesday Addams & Enid Sinclair (Wednesday) 1,857 fics

(F/F) Tara Maclay/Willow Rosenberg (Buffy the Vampire Slayer) 1,838 fics

(F/F) Clary Fray/Isabelle Lightwood (Shadowhunters) 1,756 fics

(F/F) Sansa Stark/Margery Tyrell (Game of Thrones) 1,727 fics

(F/F) Kathryn Janeway/Seven of Nine (Star Trek) 1,703 fics

(F/F) Faith Lehane/Buffy Summers (Buffy the Vampire Slayer) 1,693 fics

(F/F) Alex Danvers/Kelly Olson (Supergirl) 1,672 fics

(F/F) Henrietta "Hen" Wilson/Karen Wilson (9-1-1) 1,650 fics

(F/F) Delphine Cormier/Niehaus (Orphan Black) 1,635 fics

(F/F) Dani Clayton/Jaime Taylor (Haunting of Bly Manor) 1,586 fics

(F/F) Shelby Goodkind/Toni Shalifoe (The Wilds) 1,580 fics

(F&F) Waverly Earp Nicole Haught (Wynonna Earp) 1,575 fics

(F/F) Lucy Tara/Kate Whistler (NCIS Hawaii) 1,540 fics

(F/F) Kimberly Hart/Trini (Power Rangers) 1,505 fics

(F/F) Raelle Collar/Scylla Ramshorn (Motherland Fort Salem) 1,456 fics

(F/F) Alex Danvers/Kara Danvers (Supergirl) 1,441 fics

(F/F) Astra/Alex Danvers (Supergirl) 1,436 fics

(F/F) Anya/Raven Reyes (The 100) 1,434 fics

(F/F) Sarah Alder/Tally Craven (Motherland Fort Salem) 1,412 fics

(F&F) Melinda May & Skye | Daisy Johnson (Agent of SHIELD) 1,373 fics

(F/F) Greta Gill/Carson Shaw (A League of Their Own) 1,329 fics

(F/F) Shauna Shipman/Jackie Taylor (Yellowjackets) 1,320 fics

(F&F) Jemma Simmons & Skye | Daisy Johnson (Agents of SHIELD) 1,305 fics

(F/F) Gabrielle/Xena (Xena) 1,282 fics

(F/F) Hope Mikaelson/Lizzie Saltzman (Legacies) 1,278 fics

(F/F) Penelope Park/Josie Saltzman (Legacies) 1,268 fics

[pixieungerstories]

The Captive - 8

Ben was snoring slightly in the other bedroom.  He hadn’t let Elly even change the slightly musty sheets, just taken the offered water and aspirin before he climbed in and passed out.  Elly was curled up in bed with an 1890’s treatise about the drafting of patterns for ladies undergarments.  It was weird and obscure and highly recommended by a history blog she followed.  Bernie was right, it was much more interesting than you would expect.

She heard George moving around down there.  The door to the stairs opened and closed then the house went still and quiet. Elly found herself staring at the opposite wall and straining her ears to pick up any sounds that were not Ben.

The only other sound in the house was a soft shuffling from the attic.

Elly jumped out of bed and turned the light on in her room.  Then the one in the bathroom on too.  She pulled out her phone and put on an audio book then hunkered down and pulled the covers up to her chin.  She tried to concentrate on the idea of crocheting an afgan or some fool thing the ladies were always after her to try.  Something to take her mind off of it.

She wasn’t sure that would actually help.

There was a monster in the basement and the distinct possibility that she would die a fiery death.  God only knew what the hell was going on in the attic.  It would be nice to be out of the yarn business, but she really wanted to be out of the whole damn house.  It wasn’t even like there was anyone she could talk to about this.  There wasn’t exactly a ‘there’s a mythical beast in my basement’ facebook group she could join.

Maybe she could at least talk to Ben now.  If he remembered in the morning.  If he didn’t just run screaming.  Not that she could blame him.

In theory, she could just go.  Pack up her bag, head out in the morning and be on a flight around the world before he even missed her.  But then what? A sister or cousin might be sent in her place.  George might also get angry and hurt someone.  Elly didn’t really want that on her conscience.  Especially after that threat display at Ben.  It had worked.  She did feel threatened.

The lights flickered.  Elly got up and started pacing.  Tea!  Or warm milk maybe.  She had a good recipe for warm milk that was very nearly a drinkable pudding.  And it would give her something to fuss over while she tried to relax.  The problem with knowing about George was that it made it really hard to tell yourself that ghosts aren't real and you had just dreamed the shadowy figure standing over your bed.

Elly shivered, then whirled to look behind her.

She hadn’t ever seen the thing when she was clearly awake, but she had woken up to see it standing over her bed a few times now.  Was Ben safe?  Was she?  

Elly turned to look behind her again.  The problem was, there was no matter which way she faced, there was always a blind spot behind her.  Finally she just accepted that she wouldn’t be sleeping tonight and went downstairs to clean the kitchen.  Ben wasn’t going to want to do that with a hangover in the morning.

----

It was after midnight and Elly had not only cleaned the kitchen, she had dusted the shop and had a hard look at her inventory.  If she sold off the looms and spinning wheels, she could start by converting that section to books.  Starting with knitting books, so she could sneak up on people.  Then add baking and cook books, that would be a natural progression from having the bakery on site.  

She could, possibly, just keep expanding the books and reducing the yarn.  Maybe keep the sock yarn.  It was the best seller and could eventually fit in the craft section.

“Elly?”  She jumped, then turned to see George watching her from the bakery.  “I brought you a gift.”

She blinked, “That’s nice.  Thank you George.”

“You have to come get her.”

“Whoa!  Wait!  Her?”  Elly asked

George held out his hand.  Cradled in his palm was a small black kitten.

“Where did you get a kitten?”  Elly demanded, rushing forward to take the sleeping bundle of fur.

“Someone has been killing cats.  They got the mom and the rest of the litter.  This one was hiding in the dark.   Keep her safe.  Don’t let her outside.”

Elly hesitated, “When you say killing cats …” she trailed off.  George was glaring at the wall like it had personally offended him.  In her hands. The kitten yawned and stretched, its tiny razor sharp claws pricking at Elly’s hands.  It blinked up and mewed piteously.   Elly stared into its eyes.  “I’ve never seen a cat with brown eyes before.  Gold or amber, sure, but not like this.”

George turned back to look at her, “The mother was black with white feet, the other kittens were black and white.  Whoever did this was gone before I got there.”

The kitten started to squirm awkwardly and Elly rushed over to set her on the stack of newspapers she was throwing out.  They barely made it. By the time she got things cleaned up, George was gone.  Elly sighed and looked down at kitten.  “At least you are old enough to poop on your own.  OK.  Let’s go google how to keep you alive.”

—-

Elly spent the rest of the night learning about kittens. George’s present had tall ears, for a cat, black fur and human like brown eyes. The overall effect was a little creepy. It also made no sense. From what Elly could find, this little piece of fluff was a Bombay. Or, at least, matched the characteristics for a Bombay. Except, Bombay kittens sold upwards of 700 dollars each.

The kitten mewed where it was sitting on her shoulder and gave Elly’s earring a suckle before going full cat loaf and purring itself to sleep. 

“You’re are completely ridiculous cat,” Elly mumbled.

“You need to sleep, treasure,” George commented from the doorway. Elly managed not to jump though she wondered how long he’d been lurking there.

“The shop opens in-”

“The shop is closed for repairs,” George insisted. “Hungover bakers need a day off and you will need to talk to the boy when he wakes.”

Elly sighed. She didn’t like much George telling her what to do, but she couldn’t disagree with him. She nodded as she got up to hang the “Gone Fishing” sign on the door that hadn’t been used since Ina’s death. She then flopped on the couch, pulled down the afghan and fell asleep. 

[thevividgreenmoss]

After a 78-day NATO war on Yugoslavia failed to achieve regime change, the U.S. and Western European governments turned to other means to overthrow the Socialist Party government in Yugoslavia led by Milošević. The election provided an opportunity for the U.S., which had spent years cultivating cadres of student protesters and forming the ideologically fractured anti-Milošević political parties under the banner of “Democratic Opposition Of Serbia,” or DOS.

“US diplomats knocked their heads together until they formed a cohesive and united coalition,” Christian Science Monitor correspondent Peter Ford wrote in a piece titled “How the Balkan strongman was toppled.”

A 2019 publication of the U.S. military’s Joint Special Operations University titled “Support to Resistance: Strategic Purpose and Effectiveness” explains the multi-faceted strategy to ensure the victory of Vojislav Kostunica, who is described as the favored “anti-communist candidate.”

The strategy included a psychological operations component known as “Ring around Serbia,” which used radio broadcasts of U.S.-government propaganda arms Worldnet, Voice of America, and Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty’s Serbian service to “[wean] public support away from Milošević. The U.S. also ran its “MATRIX project,” which sought to weaken Milošević’s inner circle, compelling some of his closest confidantes to flee the country.

But most important, according to then-ambassador James Dobbins, was a student activist group cultivated by the United States named Otpor – what he hailed as “the most effective element of the Serbian opposition.” Otpor is Serbian for “resistance” and operated under the slogan “Gotov je” Serbian for “he is finished.

In neighboring Hungary, William Montgomery – who would go on to be named U.S. ambassador to Belgrade – had set up an office in 1998 to train Otpor opposition activists in how to bring down a government. Gene Sharp, nicknamed the “Machiavelli of nonviolence” who pioneered the field of “nonviolent revolution” dispatched retired U.S. Army Colonel Robert L. Helvey to run a weekend workshop for Otpor leaders. “In many ways, the framework that Helvey proposed to Otpor was a mirror image of the principles of strategy and process for formulating strategy taught at various U.S. military schools,” military theorist Richard H. Shultz wrote in another Joint Special Operations University book titled “Resistance Views.”

Otpor’s internal structure resembled a secretive intelligence agency more than a democratic student movement. Helvey wrote that “Otpor developed a leadership that was unknown to most of its members. The leadership never met as a group but only briefly with one another as was required.”

Ambassador James Dobbins wrote in his 2017 memoir ‘Frontlines: Fives Decades of Service on the American Frontline of Diplomacy’ that Otpor organized “increasingly massive rallies, often in the guise of rock concerts, and possessed a clear strategy to force regime change.”

While Otpor sought to portray itself as an independent movement, one member confessed that it was almost entirely bankrolled by Washington’s regime change apparatus. “‘Eighty-five percent of our funding came from the United States, ’through bodies such as the National Endowment for Democracy, the International Republican Institute and the National Democratic Institute, as well as USAID.”

One of the United States’ key tactics was to have its trainees closely monitor the fateful fall 2000 general election. “We brought one of Otpor’s young leaders to Washington, arranged meetings throughout the administration, and sent him back with enough funding to train and deploy 30,000 election monitors,” Dobbins explains. Former U.S. Army Special Forces officer and military analyst Will Irwin identifies that young leader as Otpor co-founder Srdja Popovic.

The Clinton administration calculated that by using Otpor and the “pro-democracy” opposition groups as a proxy, the toxic cloak-and-dagger image long associated with coups carried out by U.S. intelligence agencies would be avoided. “Political risk for the USG was mitigated by openly describing the support to Otpor and other opposition elements as a democracy promotion project, although it was intended from the beginning as a means to facilitate regime change,” Irwin wrote.

As the Otpor-led demonstrations went on, the Milosevic government sought to undermine the opposition by clamping down on media and communications. But according to “Resistance Views,” the U.S. and European Union had long prepared for that possibility and supplied funds slated for media technology including “copy machines, phones, postage and printing, computers, and Internet services.”

“When the regime took control of Belgrade’s largest newspapers and television and radio stations in May, Otpor was ready for that, as well. It had established its own communication and information systems and continued to communicate with the population.”

This extensive communication and information system is what prompted WIRED journalist David S. Bennahum to dub the anti-Milosevic movement the “Internet Revolution” in 1997.

...In 2003, veteran Otpor leader Srjda Popovic went on to found the Center for Applied Nonviolent Strategies, commonly referred to by its acronym, CANVAS. The group has trained opposition activists in several dozen countries across the world including Ukraine, Georgia, Russia, Egypt, Tunisia, Venezuela, Iran, Zimbabwe, Lebanon, and China – all targets of its progenitor and funding source, the U.S. empire. Juan Guaidó, the self-declared “interim president” of Venezuela and frontman for the U.S.-orchestrated coup attempts reportedly participated in a CANVAS training session in Mexico.

The private intelligence outfit Stratfor, known as the “Shadow CIA” described CANVAS succinctly in a leaked email. After running Milošević out of power, “the kids who ran OTPOR grew up, got suits and designed CANVAS… or in other words a ‘export-a-revolution’ group that sowed the seeds for a NUMBER of color revolutions. They are still hooked into U.S. funding and basically go around the world trying to topple dictators and autocratic governments (ones that U.S. does not like ;).”

Savic’s November 2020 video titled “STEP BY STEP PROCEDURE, HOW WE WON WHEN MILOSEVIC STOLE OUR ELECTIONS“ was reuploaded to a Youtube account called Mrgunsngear B Channel run by U.S. Air Force and Army veteran Mike Plouff where it has received more than 250,000 views. The popular U.S.-based channel contains hundreds of instructional videos on weapons and ammunition, analysis of protests, and even a warning from Venezuelan Olympic sport shooter Gabby Franco warning that outlawing gun ownership would be the first step towards a socialist takeover by Senator Bernie Sanders and Congresswoman Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez “that will destroy the United States if implemented.”

As Savic’s polemic into the right-wing mediasphere went viral, top Republican politicians. organizers of so-called “Stop the Steal” rallies around the country and QAnon conspiracy theorists began to disseminate the video as a warning of what failure to prevent a Biden presidency would mean for future generations.

Tracey Beanz, a well-known figure among Arizona’s conservative movement, tweeted a link to the viral Youtube video, which Arizona Republican Party Chairwoman Kelli Ward then retweeted, adding Savic’s warning.

...Dozens of supporters of the insurrection thanked Savic in comments on the original Bitchute version. “Since President Trump called us to the capitol on January 6th your video has been spreading all around and brought me here,” reads one ominous comment. “I hope we can do something because I’ve been trying to make people see how much trouble we are in and they will not listen. There are people willing to defend our country but enemies in media and big tech are making things difficult. But we have been called to our capitol on the 6th and patriots know we must be there. Pray for us, brother.”

...As the FBI arrests participants in the insurrections, its armchair spiritual leader Aleksander Savic has relocated to Texas where he claims to be writing a “dictionary” to “help the American society understand the choices they are making.” Meanwhile, he continues to upload videos to his Bitchute channel. A January 24 edition analyzes the coup’s failure and advises his followers on how they should proceed into the future.

Addressing the participants as if he were their leader, Savic laments the events at the capitol as “a complete mess,” He blames the failure on a lack of organization among the insurrectionists “because going to the protest without clear aim, without clear duration of that protest and without the logistics, it was pretty much impossible.”

While Savic lauds the individual efforts, he complains that the insurrectionists did not have a strong enough presence in the Republican party – a claim bolstered by a YouGov poll showing 45% of Republican voters disapprove of the storming of the capitol.  “You lost on a tactical level last month because your party was not able to make organization,” Savic explains. “It was incredible to see all the rallies that you spontaneously organized with grassroots movements. However, you didn’t have the organization inside the party.” He disparages the events in the Capitol as insufficiently destructive, saying “People entered the capitol, which was, I don’t know, a tourist attraction I guess… I have never seen such riots, if we can call it [a] riot.”

BLOWBACK AT THE CAPITOL: How a US-Backed Coup in Serbia Inspired the DC Insurrection 

[minorindech]

a very descriptive profile of your muse.

a very descriptive profile of your muse. REPOST, DO NOT REBLOG, with the information of your muse, including headcanons. tagged by the dash tagging the person reading this uwu

NAME.  Bernadetta von Varley NICKNAME(S). Bernie (herself, her uncle), Bern (Dorothea). ALIAS(ES). The Recluse of House Varley, the Varley Girl, the Monastery’s Ghost. AGE. 17. SPECIES. Human. ZODIAC. Sagittarius. GEMSTONE. Turquoise. MORAL ALIGNMENT. Chaotic good. ABILITIES / POWERS. Crest of Indech. Gifted with archery. An incredibly fast runner. Very good at hiding. Does well with animals. INTERESTS. Arts and crafts of all nature, but especially embroidery and knitting. All the necessary hobbies of a housewife. Writing and reading, gardening and exotic and carnivorous plants.  FEARS. Her father, her future, marriage. Being a failure, being a disappointment, letting others down, being hurt, getting others hurt because of her. People, the outside, new situations, new environments.  GUILTY PLEASURES. The stories she writes are a guilty pleasure, getting lost in fantasy worlds with women far braver than herself. Baking and sneaking herself more treats than she should. Making stuffed animals instead of useful things. Carnivorous plants. Near everything she likes is a guilt to her. SPOKEN LANGUAGES. Defaults to speaking the common language casually, much to her father’s displeasure, picked up from the servants around the house. She has been “educated” in how to speak properly at court, but struggles with it due to a lack of practice and nerves. Was taught above all else the importance of remaining silent. PROFESSION. Student. Heir. Future wife. BODY TYPE. Small and skinny from a mix of constant stress and a purposefully controlled diet. All sharp and pointy limbs. Grows into herself better as the war progresses, still lithe but fuller. HEIGHT. 4′11″ pre-timeskip. COLORS. Purple, black, deep shades of blue. Green tinted red. DRINKS. Sweet drinks. Teas. Water. Juice. Coffee oversugared. ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES? On occassion and out of obligation. She doesn’t think it tastes good and doesn’t like feeling out of control. She takes to it better when she’s older, but still doesn’t drink often. SMOKES? No.

[doomonfilm]

Favorites : I’m Gonna Git You Sucka (1988)

Over at the I Know What You Did podcast, where Millie and Danielle have spent the month of February focusing specifically on Black creators in honor of Black History Month, the films covered have been mostly serious, as compelling as they’ve been.  Imagine my surprise at the fact that, for the final episode of this stretch, the focus would turn to not only one of the most prolific Black families of creators out there, but quite possibly the current first-family of funny, the Wayans family.  While Don’t Be A Menace to South Central While Drinking Your Juice in the Hood is not my jam, I’m Gonna Git You Sucka is and always will be, and with that DVD already positioned for a Black History Month viewing, it jumped from being on the list to a position at the top.

Jack Spade (Keenen Ivory Wayans) returns to Any Ghetto, U.S.A. after a tour of duty to find his brother Junebug has lost his life to a case of “overgold”.  Jack vows to care for his mother Belle Brown-Spade (Ja’net Dubois) and Junebug’s widow Cheryl Spade (Dawnn Lewis), but after the women are threatened by Leonard (Damon Wayans) and Willie (Kadeem Hardison), henchmen to the notorious Mr. Big (John Vernon), Jack makes the choice to eliminate the negative element from his neighborhood.  He reaches out to former hero John Slade (Bernie Casey) for assistance, and initially Slade refuses, but after Leonard and Willie make an attempt on Slade’s life, he decides to join the fight.  In hopes of evening the score, he enlists the help of some of his former vigilante friends : Hammer (Isaac Hayes), Slammer (Jim Brown), Flyguy (Antonio Fargas) and Kung Fu Joe (Steve James).  With both sides at full power and intent on removal of the opposition, tensions rise and bullets fly.

Outside of the Zucker/Abrams/Zucker camp, I haven’t seen anyone pull off trope-based humor the way that the Wayans family has been able to, and it all started with Keenen Ivory Wayans and his early Hollywood work.  I’m Gonna Git You Sucka embraced two different sets of tropes, shuffled them together like a deck of cards, and dealt them out to audiences in a manner where everyone got a winning hand.  First and foremost, the film is an ode to Blaxploitation classics, and all of the earmarks of the genre are present, up to and including ex-soldiers returning home, the impact of drug dealing on the Black community, the role of vigilantes stepping up to protect the ghetto when police are absent or corrupt, and so on.  Normally, this genre of film takes itself deadly serious, but Wayans pours heaps and heaps of comedy into the mix, with running jokes, physical comedy, tons of sight gags, hilarious subversions of expectation, and even extremely base-level seriousness making the film as memorable as it is funny.

The real power of the film, however, comes in its lasting legacy in terms of how it served as a stylistic and generational bridge between the stars of the past and the promise of the future.  Keenen Ivory Wayans pays direct homage to the past by including some of the biggest names from the Blaxploitation era in key roles, and he uses the rest of the casting as an opportunity to not only showcase the talents of his vast family, but also open doors for a wealth of hilarious up and comers (many of whom are still working to this day).  The issues that plagued the Blaxploitation era are given a modern day equivalent, with drugs and sexual exploitation replaced with the embracing of hip-hop and gangster culture, but this substitution does not cheapen the strength of the narrative, despite the film’s comedic intentions.  The film is even deceptively poignant in the way that it exposes systematic oppression and police corruption.

In terms of production value, everything is more than acceptable, but from what I can surmise, I’m Gonna Git You Sucka wasn’t created to be a cinematic masterpiece.  The main aim of the film is clearly humor, and Keenen Ivory Wayans obliterates the bullseye he targeted.  The music cues all work, even the ones that are direct references to films of the past, and even some of those cues are used for humorous sight gags.  Wardrobe-wise, the film is surprisingly strong, with the costuming providing memorable outfits from the modern era, Blaxploitation era, and even a few ridiculous over-the-top costumes (including those outrageous goldfish platforms).

Keenen Ivory Wayans definitely had a lot on his plate as the writer and director of the film, but all of those obligations didn’t take away from his ability to play a comically inept version of a leading man with pinpoint precision.  Ja’net Dubois takes the trope of protective mother to new and outrageous heights, while Dawnn Lewis plays the damsel and distress with incredibly comedic nuance.  Bernie Casey is too cool for school, which makes his sharp one-liners and punchlines even funnier due to their curveball-esque delivery.  Isaac Hayes, Jim Brown, Antonio Fargas and Steve James are all able to take character aspects that made their careers and flip them on their ears, turning them into jokes without them feeling like they are the butt of said jokes.  John Vernon brings a sense of gravitas to his antagonist position, but like everyone else in the film, he manages to keep it humorous without going too ridiculous... instead, he allows the ridiculousness to come from Damon Wayans and Kadeem Hardison as his henchmen.  The list of cameo appearances reads like its own solid comedy film, with the likes of Clarence Williams III, Clu Gulager, John Witherspoon, David Alan Grier, Eve Plumb, Robin Harris, Kim Wayans, Nadia Wayans, Hawthorne James, Gary Owens, Tony Cox and more popping up, and even Robert Townsend and Peggy Lipton providing uncredited roles.

While it’s true that the comedy films of the Wayans family can be divisive in terms of reception, it’s hard to argue against I’m Gonna Git You Sucka being a classic.  The film opened many doors for Keenen Ivory and the rest of his family, and with his next project being the culturally iconic In Living Color, it seemed like the sky was the limit for his family.  As we stand thirty-plus years removed from this declaration, it’s impressive to see that the Wayans family is still rising.

[spoilmesweetie]

I was tagged by @doctorjameswatson.  I almost never get tagged in these - so thank you very much and apologies in advance for the dull as dishwater answers!

Rules: answer 20 questions, then tag 20 people you want to get to know better.

1. name: Christy

2. Nickname: Crusty (thanks to a friend’s mother entirely mishearing) and Gary (long story involving many drinks and old friends)

3. Zodiac sign: Aries, though the shift in 2020 landed me under Pisces. A quick Google search suggests it might be a better fit personality wise, but I’ve never put too much stock in these things.  And after almost 3 decades as an Aries, I think that’s where I’ll stay.

4. height: 5′ 2 1/2″ (yes, the 1/2 counts)

5. languages: English. I studied French and German at high school but only remember a handful of words and phrases of each.

6. nationality: Scottisjh

7. favourite season: Autumn

8. favourite flower: Lily, Roses or Orchids.  I was lucky enough to see the Lily Greenhouse in the Jardim Botanico in Rio De Janeiro.  They have every size, shape and colour imaginable.  

9. favourite scent: I don’t have any one favourite, but it rather depends on my mood.  I like spicy, warm scents, but also enjoy clean, sharp citrus/minty scents.  

10. favourite colour: Again, depends on my mood.  Purple?  Or Deep Blue?  Like the sky just before it gets pitch black.

11. favourite animal: Cat

12. favourite fictional character(s): An ever changing list, but atm:  RIver Song,  (always) Bernie Wolfe (for all her faults), Serena Campbell, Hecate Hardbroom, The Doctor, Mrs Hudson, Sherlock Holmes, Vera Stanhope, Captain Kathryn Janeway, Seven of Nine, Morticia Addams, Sister Monica Jones, Sister Michael and the Derry Girls bunch and on that note, I’ll stop rambling.  

13. coffee, tea or hot chocolate: Tea, at least 6 cups a day.  But nothing better than hot chocolate on a cold day or in front of a cosy fire.  

14. average sleep hours: 6 hours a night?  Though having been someone who never napped as a kid or teen, I seem to enjoy a good nana nap these days.

15. dog or cat person: You don’t get the tag ‘Crazy Cat Lady’ for nothing - so cat.  Though working in a vet practice, I also love dogs and furry creatures of all shapes and sizes

16. number of blankets you sleep with: I have a duvet with a faux fur duvet cover on atm.  Love nice soft blankets and fabrics.  

17. dream trip: My dream trip was always to Venice, and I was lucky enough to visit with my uncle a few years back.  I love the pace, the architecture and the people.  I would go back in a heartbeat.  As for places I’ve never been, Paris is still huge on my list.  I’d also love to see the Northern Lights.

18. blog established: Apparently September 2012

19. followers: Apparently 256 but that seems awfully high, so I suspect a large number of porn bots...

20. random fact: I have a degree in Scots Law.  

Tagging: 20 people seems a bit too many, so I’ll tag just a few (and hope you haven’t already been tagged too recently and don’t mind!)

@hecateandhoney @justbeinggayandstuff @lesbiangracehanson @quirky-ginger @raffaela-musiker @rachelhills @whenitwhen

[miggydiaz]

OC asks: 3, 11, 21, 36, 50, & 92

I love that you are always ready to assist me in procrastination, what would I do without you?

3. What is the meaning behind their name? Do they have any nicknames? Jinx’s nickname being Jinx stems from sharing her full name with her grandmother. Virginia Louise Holliday I, also known as Ginny, is a witchy old woman who lives at the border of Riverdale/Greendale in a small house where she feeds a ton of stray cats. She has a rocking chair on her front porch, and sometimes sits there with a shot gun that she once threatened Grandpa Forsythe with because he was being a drunk menace to her husband. Her daughter, Gwen, decided to name her own daughter after her mother because her mother has big 70′s second wave feminism energy and even though she can be a bit... chaotic, she’s still a wonderful woman. But Ginny was taken as a nickname, and so she went with Jinxie (which became shortened to Jinx as she got older) instead. Jughead calls her Jinxie when he’s being deliberately and over the top patronizing. He calls her Virginia when he wants to get on her nerves. And her girlfriend, Bernie, calls her Jinxie (affectionate). Matt is just... he’s an every day guy, you know? Played football in high school. Wanted to be an actor. Lost his dad in a robbery and decided to become a cop for ~Good~ and ~Noble~ reasons but is disillusioned with the reality of it. Every Matt I’ve ever known has been a good guy, if not a little messy, and just trying to make it work and that’s Matt Turner in a nutshell. 11. If they could make a mark on history, what would they like it to be? 

Jinx is funny because even though she’s a musician, she actually hates being like... the center of people’s attention. She gets very uncomfortable when people are complimentary of her, but I mean... also, she wouldn’t hate leaving a legacy like Freddie Mercury’s behind either. 60,000 people all singing along to one of her songs in unison at a festival 30 years after her death? Yes please. Matt is more interested in doing what he can to dismantle gross police work from the inside. He is very aware of the ACAB principle (and tbf, that’s also my position so Matt is like... what I WISH cops were? Without being copaganda?), but also, he’s on the inside so he might as well do what he can to actually help. He just loves the community he lives in, and wants to make it better. It’s not a great neighborhood, but he tries to offer an alternative to calling the police to people that he knows or recognizes as coming through the station before. I mean, it’s still technically calling the police, but if he can diffuse a situation without it having to go on the books? He’d rather do it that way. He could be a community activist in another world, but he just wants to be a good example of what community policing could and should be like.

21. What is their favorite thing about their personality? 

Jinx is fiercely loyal to the people she cares about because there’s like... a small handful of them. She is 100% the girl you call when you need something because she just has no compunction about doing whatever needs to be done, as long as it’s for one of her people. She will take secrets to the grave. Trust is a VERY important thing for her because of a horrible past relationship, and she treats it with the utmost respect.

For Matt, it’s his personality. He thinks he’s hilarious... to varying degrees of delusion. He will take things seriously when he needs to, but he is the first one to try and bring levity to the situation. A bit of a goofball, but he just really enjoys making people laugh.

36. What is their sense of humor like? Give an example of a joke they would find humorous. Jinx is a riffer. She’s not much of a ‘let me tell you a joke’ sort of person, but she loves to banter off the cuff, and her and Jug can and will just say stupid shit to each other for hours. Basically, I think of Jug, Jinx, and their cat Mingus as a wholesome Team Rocket from Pokemon, and Jinx fully embraces that. That being said, she has a really TERRIBLE sense of humor. Like, bad jokes are her bread and butter. Like a “What do they call Pringles in Spanish. Prespañol~” bad.

Matt, on the other hand, is genuinely hilarious in that sort of goofballish way and Veronica is constantly laughing at the stuff he says or does. He once found her Monica Posh wig in her closet and put it on immediately, coming out and inventing a whole new alias for himself after she explained Monica Posh to him. When he’s actually telling jokes though instead of just being kind of an idiot, one of his favorites (that he never tells around Veronica because she is both Catholic and Lawyer-to-be in my universe) is as follows: A man and a woman meet in Heaven. They fall in love, and eventually decide that they want to get married. So they go to God and they say “God, we have fallen in love and we want to be married.” So God says to them, okay, let me see what I can do.” A few months later, he finds the couple and says, “okay, I can allow you to get married now.” So they marry. Then, a couple years down the line, they’re fighting a lot. They just can’t reconcile their differences, so they go back to God, and they say “God, we really can’t stand each other any more, and we want to get divorced.” God, displeased, says “It took me four months to find a priest in this joint. How long do you think it’ll take me to find a lawyer?” *insert buh dum tiss here* 50. How would you describe their style of clothing? How would they describe their style of clothing? 

Jinx describes her overall aesthetic as Trash Panda chic. A lot of ripped jeans, her doc martens, tank tops, lots of layered jewelry, fishnets and flannel, big Snooki bump. She loves a good vest. Lots of black, and with winged liner sharp enough to stab someone with. She claims the reason her eyebrow raising game is so strong is because it had to do the heavy lifting of an ill-conceived eyebrow ring in high school, which she does not have anymore. It’s a little punk, a little hipstery, but mostly she just looks like she rolled out of a laundry basket... which is usually how she goes about her day.

Matt goes for farmer’s market hot. Good jeans, not too ripped but definitely well worn. Henley. A flannel over top if it’s cool out. He loves a good sweater. In the summer, unless he’s working, it’s a tshirt and jeans. V-necks, usually. For lounging around the house, it’s 100% boxers and his bathrobe while he eats colorful sugary cereal out of a giant jethro sized bowl and watches Saturday college football (he roots for Georgia since he’s originally from Atlanta, and Veronica laments that she has a type: Bulldog football players who just want to be do-gooders).

92. Describe them as a John Mulaney gif. 

Jinx:

Matt: