#but the chorus of fat shaming

[lanawinterscigarettes]

You know how in the show Ross is always saying something mean about Monica when she was fat? Could you do a fic or hcs where Ross says something like that about the reader (who has an eating disorder) and Monica GOES OFF on him because that's her baby? Thanks xx

Aw, Monica to the rescue xo (also if you hate the title that's okay, I don't like it very much either)

A Joke Made In Poor Taste (Monica Geller x reader)

Warnings: mentions of eating disorders (food consumption/eating is also discussed a lot in this fic, so don't read if that makes you uncomfortable), Monica protects you (and Joey helps), Ross is an asshole (but what else is new), body shaming, insecurity, slight swearing, angst, hurt/comfort, happy ending (this includes an apology from Ross, but don't worry, he doesn't get let off easy)

You and your girlfriend Monica bonded over numerous things, but one of them was of a particularly sensitive subject- your eating disorders. It was no secret that she had suffered from one when she was younger, but yours wasn't as well known to the rest of the group. 

She always treated it with respect and kindness, making sure she never said anything to make you uncomfortable, and whenever another member of the group made a joke she knew would hurt your feelings, she was quick to correct them on it. 

By this point, your friends were well aware of your boundaries when it came to making jabs at your eating habits, and even though it hadn't been said out loud, it was an unspoken thing that if something was said about it, the person who made the "joke" had better be prepared to deal with the incurred wrath of Monica. 

Because of this, they were all smart enough to keep their mouths closed whenever they noticed you were eating more or less than usual. Well, most of them, anyway. 

Monica had been cooking up a storm, trying out new recipes for her restaurant, which she had taste tested by you and Joey. You and him were sitting at the kitchen table watching Monica cook, while Rachel and Chandler were on the couch, listening as Phoebe played one of her new songs for them. 

"Oh, shoot!" Monica exclaimed as she was stirring a pot over the stove. "I'm all out of butter! Joey, do you have any at your place?" 

"No, I ate it all," Joey admitted sheepishly. 

"There should be some hidden in the back of the fridge, Mon, look there," Chandler called from the living room. 

"You had more butter and you didn't tell me?!" Joey gasped. "How dare you!" 

"Yes, how dare I hide the butter that I bought with my money so that you couldn't eat it," Chandler said sarcastically. "Besides, who eats just a stick of butter?" 

"Chandler, we've been over this; we were out of snacks, and I was hungry!" 

"Okay, you two, cut it out!" Monica interrupted before Chandler could respond. "I'm going next door to get some more butter, I'll be back in a few." She pressed a kiss against your forehead as she passed you, earning an 'aww' from Joey. 

The door opened just as she was about to walk out, with Ross on the other side. "Hey," he said, a chorus of greetings responding as he came in. "Where are you going? I thought you had to cook," he said to Monica. 

"I do, but I'm out of butter, so I'm heading next door to grab a couple more sticks. Watch the pot I have on the stove until I get back, will you?" She said, making it sound more like a command than a request. With that, she was gone. 

"Wow," Ross commented as he looked around the kitchen. "That sure is a lot of food." 

"I know, right? And Monica's letting us eat it all!" Joey exclaimed, excited he got the chance to eat as much as he wanted for once without having Monica fuss at him for emptying her fridge.

"We're not supposed to eat it all, Joey. We're just tasting it for her so she can get our honest feedback," you corrected him, adding a little more food to your plate. 

"Whatever you want to call it, as long as I get to eat, I'm happy," Joey replied, his mouth full of food. 

You laughed at his response while you took another bite, Ross watching you from across the kitchen with a disgusted look on his face. That look in particular could be found in numerous home videos with him and Monica when they were younger, and it often appeared on his face whenever she was shown eating (which was a lot, as food provided a great comfort to her back then and still to this very day). 

"God, do you really have to eat so much? Who are you, Monica?" Ross scoffed, his 'joke' borderlining on cruel. 

The conversation happening in the living room ceased. Looks of utter and complete shock could be seen all around the apartment. Joey even stopped eating, he was so surprised. 

A lump formed in your throat as your eyes welled up with tears. Setting your fork down on your plate, you shakily pushed it away from you. "I- I don't think I'm hungry anymore." 

"Hey man, that's not cool," Joey said sternly. "Now, you'd better apologize before Monica finds out." 

"Before I find out what?" 

You looked up through your teary eyelashes to see Monica had returned, butter in hand. "What am I finding out about?" 

"Oh, it's nothing," Ross said quickly, knowing at this point he'd made a mistake. "We were just fooling around." 

"No, you weren't!" Joey exclaimed. "You were making fat jokes and being mean!" He pointed his finger at him accusingly. 

"What?" Monica asked, a look of silent rage suddenly forming on her face. 

"It's nothing, Mon, don't worry about it," you said quietly, your eyes focused on your shoes. You were ashamed of yourself. You'd never been this humiliated before, especially not around your friends. 

Her face softened as she noticed how distressed you seemed; you could see the cogs turning in her head as she put two and two together. 

Her eyes flashed with fury as she directed her attention towards Ross. "What. Did. You. Do," she seethed, clenching her jaw as she glared at him. 

"I, well, um- it's nothing really, it was just a joke that got wildly misinterpreted, that's all." He stumbled over his words as he tried to come up with some sort of explanation, failing miserably.

"Oh, really? And what kind of joke is that?" She asked, her voice laced with venom. 

He awkwardly cleared his throat while trying to avoid her piercing gaze. "Ahem, the kind, where, uh- well, you know-" 

"No, I don't, actually," she cut in, getting visible angrier by the second. "What, do mean the kind of joke I had to hear all the time as a kid? The kind of joke like, 'No, Monica, you can't seesaw with us, you might break it'? Is that the kind of joke you mean?" 

You looked up at her when you heard her voice begin to waver, a sure sign that she was on the brink of tears. 

"Oh, honey." 

Getting out of your chair, you wrapped your arms around her, rubbing her arms soothingly. You could heard Phoebe let out a quiet 'aww' from the living room, much like Joey had earlier. 

"I think you should leave, now," Monica demanded, clinging onto you like you were the only thing keeping her grounded. 

"Mon, I'm- I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said-" 

"You're damn right, you shouldn't have said!" Joey loudly interjected. "Look at those two, you've hurt their feelings!" He gestured wildly to you and Monica standing in front of him. "Not to mention you've made the rest of us pretty uncomfortable." 

Several noises of agreement could be heard from the three friends who were in the living room, which made Joey make a face towards Ross that clearly said, 'I told you so'. "See?" 

Ross mournfully surveyed the scene before him; you were still holding Monica, Joey was now standing with his hands on his hips, and Rachel, Chandler, and Phoebe were all hanging over the back of the couch, curious as to what would happen next. 

"Maybe I should just go. Monica, I'm sorry again about what I said. I'll try to do better next time."

He went in for a hug, but she dodged it easily. "Just leave." 

He glanced around the apartment one last time before grabbing his coat and walking out. The tension that had filled the room mere moments ago disappeared as soon as he left. 

"You okay, Mon?" You gently asked. 

"Yeah, I think I'm alright," she nodded. "The question is, are you okay? I know how difficult comments like that can be for you to handle." 

"Well, I'm definitely feeling better now that you're here." You gave her a tender kiss, her wrapping her arms around your shoulders while you did so. 

Your friends each reacted just the way you thought they would, making comments on how cute you two were before Chandler told you to get a room. 

"Oh, believe me, we will," Monica flirted, giving you a cheeky look as she spoke. 

You buried your face into her shoulder to hide the flustered look on your face. God, was this woman going to be the death of you. 

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[chaifootsteps]

making myself sad but can you imagine how powerful it would be if Moxxie and Millie saw how confused and shook up the full moon deal left Blitzo and they like, actually listened to him and validated him?

like if he explained when he made the deal and how he was getting shot at and Stolas not only didn't care but pushed him into agreeing so Blitzo could get him off the phone, then went into an X rated rant while Blitzo was in danger

and Moxxie suddenly remembers how Stolas was still going when he went back to the house even though Blitzo obviously wasn't on the phone anymore. and how Blitzo always seemed to have to pysche himself up before visiting Stolas once a month

then he explains how Stolas gave him the crystal but whenever Blitzo got mad at how he'd been treated Stolas would either do nothing to change the behavior (after Ozzie's) or denied it and blamed Blitzo completely for not immediately jumping to love him (full moon, probably)

and Moxxie and Millie realize what they've been treating so lightly and as an advantage of their business has been something Blitzo has been compartmentalizing to deal with this entire time and been forced into to keep the lights on.

and for all Blitzo's flaws they both look at one another, take one of his hands and look him in the eye before saying "you didn't deserve how he treated you"

and Blitzo just crumples because all along Stolas has validated his worst fear - that all he's good for is sex - then turned around and demanded an intimacy and love from him that he desperately wants to feel with someone, but he's never felt anything but used and dirty with Stolas. but now finally someone is listening to him. he doesn't have to feel crazy and alone anymore

for a show that loves to strut itself around like it wants to talk 'about abuse' it sure avoids having any discussions about the effects of it - and who gets away with it most effectively - instead it's just 'look, character is sad and cries'

but you just know what we're gonna get is Millie "the prince is the boss' boyfriiienddddd!' and Moxxie 'calls Stolas Highness constantly and is happy to rescue him twice without ever being thanked' just shaming Blitzo and grouping Stolas in with the people Blitzo hurt before, as though they're remotely the same thing

probably accompanied with the most aggravating cut rate version of 'I won't say I'm in love' where M&M are the greek chorus going 'so what if he treated you like a sex toy? get over it!' ever

Gloriously cruel of you to fill our heads with such beautiful, tearjerking visions of what could have been, then smack us collectively with that fat serving of reality, Anon. 11/10.

[cockslutpadalecki]

I think this might be more dark!Steve than mean!Steve…

Takes place back in the 40s after Steve took the serum. You’re a new chorus girl/back up dancer. He usually never paid any attention to the dancers, but for some reason he’s always targeting you. He makes comments about your appearance, yells at you if you make the tiniest mistake, that kinda stuff.

When he finds out you’re transferring to a different celebrity’s USO show, he decides to show you where you really belong

Don’t Forget Where You Belong

Characters: Mean!40s!Steve x F!Reader.

Words: 1.9K.

Warnings: non-con/dub-con, non-con touching, bullying, slight body/fat shaming, humiliation, 1940s misogyny, hints of dacryphilia, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), mention of a special guest, 18+. MINORS DNI.

A/N: Thank you so much for this request, I had a blast writing it. Somehow making 40s!Steve mean is super duper hot. Beta: @princessmisery666 but all the general bullshit is entirely mine. While likes are gold, feedback is golden. Please support our content creators by sharing our work.

Your make-up is all wrong. Your hair’s a mess. Your timing is off. Your costume needs letting out.

Just a small selection of the issues Steve has with you during today’s practice. You shrug them off with a tiny smile, telling him, of course, I’ll do better. He seems placated when he strides off, shield in hand as the other girls quickly surround you.

“Don’t listen to him,” Jean soothes, giving your shoulder a comforting squeeze. 

“I won’t,” you tell her firmly, even though his comments make a home for themselves in the deepest recess of your brain. 

“I don’t get what his problem is,” another girl, Rita, pipes up as she strips off her stockings. “He’s never been like this before, at least not until…” she trails off, her eyes lingering on you. 

You know what she wants to imply. Not until you showed up. 

Slumping down at your dresser, you let out a low sigh, wishing you had some insight into what it is about you in particular that seems to annoy him. You only have to so much as breathe and he’s on your case, complaining that it’s your fault the routine is falling flat. 

“Well I heard that he isn’t happy with the drop in sign ups,” Jean whispers conspiratorially. “Especially now that other guy is stealing all of his audiences.” 

“Of course, how could I forget?” Rita giggles. “Have you seen him yet? I heard he’s a real dream.” 

You feel yourself stiffen as a result of their conversation and you start wiping off your makeup, an obscure sense of guilt washing over you. You’ve only been a part of the ensemble for a little over two months— barely enough time to grow an attachment to them— but you can’t help but feel bad for putting in a request to leave them so soon.

They’re not to blame for your unhappiness, in fact they’ve been more than accommodating, it’s the man who wears red, white and blue who’s had the target on your back since day one.

And if he finds out that you’re transferring out to the very person’s show who has the opportunity to overshadow him, that target is soon to grow bigger and bigger until he has zero chance of missing.

-

“Your steps are backwards, and because they’re backwards, you keep stepping on poor Stella’s toes,” Steve bellows, marching towards you. 

Not a day has passed without him picking fault, and you just want to hide away until it’s time for you to leave. Every morning, you mentally strike off another day, counting down the minutes and hours, yet time seems to pass far too slowly. 

“I’m sorry, I-” you start but your pleas are quickly cut off by his curt voice as he reaches you.

“Apologies aren’t going to help.”

“But it’s a start,” you snap without thinking. 

Steve glares at you, his jaw tightening. You can tell by the way his nostrils flare that he’s pissed you’ve just spoken back. You can’t quite believe it either. All sound ceases in the room and you can feel the girls’ wide eyes on you as Steve closes the gap between you in one huge stride. 

The anger radiates off him in waves, and you can feel it burning at the fringes of your uniform. 

“We’re done here,” he yells to the others, his eyes remaining on you. Nobody moves. Somebody coughs. The lack of movement catches Steve’s attention and he turns towards them, shouting at the top of his lungs, “I said, get out!”

They all scurry around picking up their belongings and rush out of the door, trying to pass on their most sympathetic looks before disappearing entirely from view. 

It’s only when the room is empty that Steve brings his attention back to you, and his ire with it. 

“Do you like humiliating me?” he asks, and the question stumps you. If anything, he’s the one humiliating you.

“I… I don’t understand.” 

“The mistakes. The hair. The make-up,” he huffs out. “Every time you put a step wrong, you’re showing me up. Tarnishing my reputation. And now you’re talking back, in front of the other girls, like you think your opinion counts? I’m starting to think you’re doing it on purpose.” 

Pain builds up in your jaw as you grind your teeth together, taken aback by his blatant misogyny. Hot tears burn as you blink them away, not wanting him to see how his words affect you. 

“I’m not trying to do anything of the sort,” you defend. 

“Then what are you trying to do? ‘Cause it sure as hell ain’t dancin’,” Steve remarks snidely.  

You stare up at him, his bright sapphire eyes no longer a thing of beauty, but cold and harsh. Like a winter’s frost nipping at your nose. He looks down at you, mouth drawn in a taut line but you can see a smirk threatening the corners of his lips. As if he’s eager to smile. Like he’s enjoying making you uncomfortable. 

“I’m sorry my best isn’t good enough, Mr. Rogers,” you mutter dryly, the apology sour on your tongue. “I promise to do better.”

Now he smiles, however it’s anything but kind and warm. “Thank you. That’s the kind of behaviour I expect from my girls,” he reaches out and strokes your arm, sending a cold shiver of fear down your spine. With your fear justified as his caress quickly evolves into a vice-like grip, his tone turns abrasive when his threat pierces the air, “but speak another word out of line, and I’ll shut your prissy little mouth myself.”

You agree hurriedly with a sheepish nod and Steve lets go of your arm. “Good girl.” He flashes you another unnerving smile and his hand comes up to cup your jaw, forcing your eyes to remain on him. “See, obeying your peers isn’t so bad, is it?” 

“No, Mr. Rogers,” you placate softly. 

“Run along now, Doll,” he tells you, motioning towards the exit with his head. You try to step around him to leave, but the sensation of his thumb rubbing gently over your bottom lip stops you from doing so. The moment is awkward, and suddenly, you feel preyed upon. The way he looks at you with such… virulence makes your stomach twist, leaving you with a thickness of unease in your gut. 

Steve finally drops his hand, moving aside to let you pass, but as you hurry from the room— the intensity of his stare burning a hole into your back— you know the approval of your request to leave can’t come quickly enough.

-

You’re rounding the curtain after your last practice— anything to keep up appearances—as the girls part like the Red Sea in front of you, dispersing quickly as Steve storms through them straight to you. 

Jean lingers for a moment, like she wants to interject— to protect you— but you silently shake your head at her over his shoulder. She pauses, hesitant to leave, but eventually she retreats, leaving you alone in the wings. The curtain curls around you like a shield, but it quickly becomes apparent that no amount of material will save you from Steve’s wrath.

“What’s this I hear about you transferring out?” he bites, his tone sharp.

You suck in a deep breath, waiting for the inevitable onslaught of disgust. It was only a matter of time before he found out, and finally the day has come. 

“Well?” he barks.

“I leave Thursday.”

Steve looks so incensed you think the vein in his neck might pop. “And when, do you suppose, were you gonna tell me about this?” 

For a moment, you’re afraid of him, but the realisation that you only have two more days in his presence means that all promises of holding your tongue go flying out the window. “I wasn’t aware I needed your permission.”

He scoffs. “I’m Captain fuckin’ America, sweetheart, everything goes through me,” he’s right up in your face now, rage-thick spittle landing on your cheek as he speaks, “So if you think I’m just gonna let you walk on outta here and represent Soldier Boy,” he spits the name like it’s poisonous, his voice heavy with the taste of Brooklyn, “then you’re sorely mistaken.” 

This time, it’s your turn to scoff. “I don’t belong to you, Steve.” 

You’ve never addressed him by first name before, and the shock on his face is clear to see before he manages to get his expression back under control. But it’s the same hard stare you’ve grown accustomed to, and even though you’re familiar with it, it doesn’t affect you any less. It still frightens you, and you guarantee that even when you’re on your deathbed, the coldness in his eyes will be the last thing you see.

He lunges towards you, hand curling around your throat in a flash. Your breath stalls in your lungs as you try to fight him off, scratching and clawing at his forearm, but it merely spurs him on. He enjoys the struggle— you can see it in the smile he gives you when he tugs you against him. Hot, salty tears stream down your cheeks as he pins you to the wall behind, heavy folds in the stage curtain cushioning the assault. 

“I’ll show you where you fuckin’ belong, sweetheart,” he grits out with macabre promise. His free hand yanks at your skirt, pulling it out of his way and tears into your underwear with one mighty rip.

You continue to cry as Steve’s heavy body covers yours. He roughly lifts your leg, manipulating it to curl around his waist. Your strength is nothing compared to his— like a mouse trying to stave off a lion— and when he frees his cock from the confines of his pants, whatever little fight you have left, drains right out of you. 

“N-n-n,” is all you can manage, your voice still trapped beneath his grip around your neck. 

“You think Soldier Boy will still accept you into his show after you’ve been tainted with my cock?” he mocks, teasing the head of his swollen erection up and down your slit. You whine in disgust, but it quickly breaks off into a moan when he slips inside you, just enough to feel his girth stretch you out. The contact forces your back to arch against the wall, and in turn, involuntarily pushes your hips towards Steve. He sinks deeper. And when he’s sheathed up to the root, he glances down to where you join with a delighted smirk.

“And here I was thinkin’ I liked it most when you were on the verge of tears,” he tells you, pulling out slowly, before sliding home with a satisfied hum. Your walls grasp and hug his dick, and you can’t help it when your eyes see static. “This is much better.”

He starts to move and instantly, your mind is screaming— this can’t be happening.

But it is. And your body seems to welcome every thrust. Your hips angle further and further towards him, desperate to take in as much of him as possible. Pulses of pleasure ripple deep in your gut and you hate it, but you ache for the next wave, small pitiful moans escaping you each time as they magnify in intensity. 

You reach out, gripping the thick red fabric of the curtain for stability, shamefully chasing the inevitable as Steve fucks you raw. 

“This is where you belong, understand?” His question punctuates the air. You nod in agreement out of fear, but your true answer appears in wordless form when you eventually come.

***

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[egoistars]

ACE FORGOT YOUR BIRTHDAY LMFAO twst

ace trappola, self proclaimed genius, child prodigy, magician, seer, schizophrenic? realized he forgot your birthday and vows to make it up to you

warnings: swearing, kms jokes, unserious angst, ace

ace trappola was going to kill himself.

he woke up in a cold sweat, wide awake and panting as panic was running through his veins on high speed, stabbing his flesh at every breath. deuce slept soundly in the bed opposite of his, snoring without a care in the world. the vision of you crying in bed, wailing about celebrating your birthday all alone replayed in his mind over and over again, each time like a bullet to his heart.

"how can you be this relaxed?" ace angrily thought as he marched up to his roommate's bed like a toddler telling his parents that he "frew up". but this was no vomit incident or potty accident. no, ace trappola was a big boy now who had to take responsibility and make sure his friends did as well.

"deuce spade," ace boomed into the blue-haired boy with pronoun's ear. he did not move. deuce drooled a little in response actually which pissed the redhead off even more. he took the shoulders of his roommate and began shaking him so fast and hard a stripper's ass was shivering in fear.

"what the-"

"deucey we have a problem," ace wasted no time explaining the issue. "prefect's birthday was yesterday and we forgot about it."

"WHAT?! why didn't they tell us?" deuce cried, his mouth comically wide open.

"i don't know, okay?! but we gotta make it up to them!"

now normally, ace wouldn't give a shit. oops, he would think, and move on with his day. but no, you were special. against all scientific odds, ace trappola developed an embarrassingly fat crush on you and when accidentally spilling it to epel one time, the country boy told him it was "cringe" and he knew epel was right.

but it's okay! ace was pretty confident in himself. i mean, the boy could pull anyone he wanted! he was delusional enough to believe that he was a master of rizz. that man popped out of the womb reciting all laws of quantum rizzics. that heart on his face? it proved it. however, now that ace forgot about your birthday, his chances of dating you were pretty much imaginary by now. all you were going to do was get a rizztraining order against him.

"what should we do?" deuce worriedly asked ace, "should we get trey to bake them a cake and call everyone up?"

ace huffed a deep breath of determination, ready to make things right.

"deuce, get ortho and help trey with the cake and meet me outside of ramshackle as soon as possible. i'll get sebek, epel, and jack so we can get gifts for prefect."

"i got this, bro."

"i knew i could count on you, bro."

the pair dabbed each other up like the disgusting, smelly teenage boys they were and ran out of their dorm.

。。。

the sun was starting to rise and the gang of first years gathered outside of ramshakle dormitory, swallowing their shame and exhaustion. as ace double, triple, quadruple checked everything, epel kept on yawning every 30 seconds, jack was uncomfortably adjusting the party hat between his beast ears, and sebek was vocally quiet for once as he was enamored by human party favors.

"alright gang, once they open the door, sebek blow the party favor because no one wants to hear you sing-"

sebek angrily tooted, hitting ace in the face with paper.

"-deuce show them the cake, and the rest of us will sing happy birthday and take turns giving them presents, got it?"

a chorus of "yes" said in various voices and volumes responded to ace's question. the boy knocked three times on the old, wooden door with a gloved hand and proceeded to nervously wait.

a low creaking brought forth your face into view.

"...why the fuck are you guys here so early?"

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PREFECT!" your friends screamed into your ear ( sebek could only toot ).

before anyone could start singing, the confusion in your face shut them all up.

"uh, my birthday is in three months. are you guys okay?"

deuce dropped the cake. epel started screaming profanities, ortho started crying, sebek sadly tooted, jack was tired, ace trappola was going to fucking kill himself if his friends didn't kill him first.

[xzerosparrowx]

The Meeting of the Fellowship

Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Day #2 - Prompt: In the Beginning | Word Count: 768 | Rating: T | CW: Fat shaming and bullying. | POV: Gareth | Tags: How the fellowship met, Corroded Coffin in middle school, Eddie's first day at Hawkins, Tommy Hagan is a bully.

Hawkins Middle School. A veritable zoo where the Jocks, Geeks, Stoners, Punks, Brains, and Goths all converge for some good ol’ American education, all of them sniping and gnashing at one another when they cross paths. Gareth, Jeff, Doug, and Zach walk through the school invisible, within these halls they are no one and belong to no clique; each of them too quiet and too average to have anyone notice their existence. 

“Hey fatty!” a voice yells over the chatter. Gareth watches Zach tense his shoulders, hunching his body in an attempt to make himself look small. Before realising that Tommy Hagan and the rest of the Hawkins basketball team have surrounded their little group, a pack of hyenas circling the wounded. 

“You get that history assignment done, like I asked?” Tommy says, holding out his hand expectantly towards Zach, the others in the group snicker when Zach opens up his binder and pulls out three crisp pages of a carefully written essay. 

Tommy snatches them, flipping through the pages as he casually reads it over, checking on Zach’s work as if he knows what he is even reading about. His brow furrows and angrily points at the page in front of him “what the hell! Despot isn’t a real word!”  There is loud bark of laughter somewhere off to the side, temporarily stunning Tommy and his pack of half-witted shitheads for a moment before all their heads turn to the source of the sound.

A boy is standing by the lockers, lanky and rough-looking, swimming in a blue sweater that is marked by tiny moth holes and a black beanie on top of his head. Gareth watches him in fascination and horror as Tommy stalks his way over, the boy shutting his locker with a loud clang, books clutched in his arms, seemingly unaware of the Goliath behind him. He finally turns around and to Gareth’s surprise the boy looks bored when he faces Tommy, as if the presence of the jock is not the worst thing he has ever encountered. 

“You wanna say something, freak?” Tommy dares, a finger pointedly jabbing the boy’s chest.

Gareth watches the boy narrow his eyes at the finger, hands curling by his sides, a tightly wound coil ready for a fight before the boy suddenly breaks into a wicked grin, body suddenly relaxing.

“If you want to know what a word means, maybe you shouldn’t have shit for brains,” the boy says sincerely as if he is giving genuine advice, a chorus of ‘ooooh’ and snickers fill the hallway and Gareth cannot help but smile as the mysterious boy gives a small wink towards him and his little group. 

The boy’s face catches Tommy’s mean right hook with a loud smack, the sudden burst of violence seems to slow down time as the boy straightens up, spits out a glob of blood and rubs the bright red mark already blooming on his face before pouncing on Tommy in a burst of speed that catches everyone by surprise. It is a blur of action at that point, David and Goliath exchanging fists. Gareth, Zach, Jeff and Doug fighting off the rest of the jocks in an attempt to stop them dogpiling the boy, and there is no way in hell they will win this fight but Gareth cannot help but feel like he’s finally part of something.

They are shoved in the cramped, dark confines of the Janitor’s closet for their trouble, Tommy and the jocks laughing loudly when they slam the door close on them. Gareth pulls the cord for the overhanging bulb, revealing them all tightly packed together with the mystery boy, lips swollen and bleeding, the black beanie sitting skewed on his head revealing an outgrowing buzzcut. 

“Thanks for that, really,” Gareth says, the rest of the group nodding eagerly in agreement, “I’m Gareth.” 

“Jeff.”

“Zach.”

“Doug.”

“Eddie,” the boy replies with a smile, holding out his hand awkwardly towards Gareth and Jeff, hands criss-crossed against his chest. They shake hands seriously like businessmen in an important meeting until they are bursting with laughter, Eddie cackling loudly that makes all of them laugh harder. 

A few moments later, as they start to calm down, Eddie looks at them with large excited brown eyes “you guys want to be in a band?” 

Zach, Jeff and Doug all exchange glances with Gareth, and he can see the same glimmer of excitement and joy on their faces that he knows he is reflecting back at them. He turns to Eddie, the boy grinning as if he already knows the answer. 

“Sure!”

[pastoralnhappy]

Jonah and the Whale

Chapter 4: A Mass of Acceptance

The week had flown by in a blur of lectures, prayers, and quiet moments of reflection. Jonah had settled into a comfortable routine at the seminary, feeling more at ease with each passing day. The secret gathering with Father Thomas and his brothers had filled him with a newfound sense of purpose and belonging.

It was late Friday afternoon when Jonah received an unexpected invitation. A folded piece of parchment was slipped under his door, bearing the seal of the seminary. He picked it up with curious hands and unfolded it to reveal a simple yet elegant script:

*Brother Jonah,*

*You are cordially invited to a special Saturday evening mass, a sacred tradition of our seminary. Your presence would be a blessing.*

*With grace,*

*Father Thomas*

Jonah felt a surge of excitement and apprehension. The invitation was intriguing, and he couldn’t help but wonder what made this mass so special. He spent the rest of the day in quiet anticipation, preparing himself spiritually and mentally for the event.

When Saturday evening arrived, Jonah donned his cassock and made his way to the chapel. As he approached, he noticed the atmosphere was different from the usual solemnity of the daily services. There was an air of expectancy, a quiet hum of reverence and excitement.

Entering the chapel, Jonah was greeted by a familiar sight: a gathering of seminarians and priests, all of them large and rotund, just like the secret brotherhood he had joined. They were seated in the pews, their bodies filling the space with a sense of communal warmth.

Father Thomas stood at the front, his presence commanding and serene. He smiled warmly as Jonah took his place among his brothers. Jonah noticed that all the men were beginning to undress, shedding their cassocks and outer garments to reveal simple white briefs underneath. It was a symbol of their unity and acceptance.

“Welcome, brothers,” Father Thomas began, his voice resonating through the chapel. “Tonight, we gather for a special mass, one that celebrates our journey and the divine acceptance of our bodies and spirits. Before we begin, let us shed our outer garments and embrace the purity of our forms.”

Jonah felt a wave of emotion wash over him as he unbuttoned his cassock with deliberate care, feeling the fabric loosen and fall away. As he removed his clothing, he couldn’t help but notice the way his body moved. His belly, full and round, jiggled slightly with each movement. His thighs, thick and sturdy, brushed against one another as he shifted. The soft folds of his arms and chest were exposed, revealing the fullness of his form.

Glancing around, Jonah saw the other seminarians and priests doing the same. The sight was mesmerizing: bodies of all shapes and sizes, each one unique, each one beautiful in its own right. The men were unashamed, their movements graceful and confident. Fat rippled and shifted as they undressed, a testament to their acceptance and self-love.

Jonah slipped into the simple white briefs, the fabric hugging his curves. He felt a mixture of vulnerability and pride as he looked at himself and the others. The sense of unity was palpable, a silent affirmation of their shared journey.

Father Thomas continued, leading them through prayers and hymns, each word a tribute to the divine gifts they had received. The men responded in unison, their voices rising and falling in a harmonious chorus.

Then, Father Thomas invited them to partake in a symbolic gesture of unity and acceptance. “Brothers, as a testament to our shared journey, let us embrace our abundance and find strength in our unity.”

Jonah felt a deep sense of connection with the others as the mass progressed. The shared experience of acceptance and celebration of their physicality was powerful and uplifting. He felt no shame, only pride in who he was and the journey he was on.

At the climax of the mass, Father Thomas moved to the altar and held up a golden chalice filled with wine. “This wine symbolizes the blood of Christ, a reminder of His love and sacrifice. Let us drink and be grateful for the blessings in our lives.”

One by one, the men approached the altar, each taking a sip from the chalice. When it was Jonah’s turn, he felt a surge of gratitude as the wine touched his lips. The warmth of the wine spread through his body, filling him with a sense of divine grace.

The mass concluded with a final prayer, Father Thomas’s voice filled with compassion and strength. “May we go forth from this place with renewed faith and confidence, knowing that we are cherished and loved. Let us embrace our abundance and share it with the world.”

The men rose, their faces alight with joy and contentment. Jonah felt a deep sense of camaraderie with his brothers, a bond forged through their shared experiences and their mutual support.

As they filed out of the chapel, Jonah caught Father Thomas’s eye. The priest gave him a knowing smile, a silent affirmation of the journey they were on together.

Jonah whispered a prayer of gratitude as he stepped into the night, his heart full and his spirit lifted. He was a chubby Catholic seminarian, part of a special brotherhood that celebrated their abundance, and he was proud of it.

[saneandrocking]

Good girl

TW: Slut shaming. Violence. Mentions of death. Mentions of suicide. Misogyny. Fatphobia.

A poor sheep among wolves thirsty for blood, a poor pure creature condemned to be just a prey of worldly perversity. An untouchable angel! Causing sighs and blushing faces in the corridors flooded with little planetoids orbiting around her. Her face, still full of childlike innocence, contorts at the slightest mention of the brutal attitudes of urban daily life, so guilty for doing nothing.

"No one compares to Bubbles and her big blue eyes. No, not even the others, because Blossom is a heartless bitch and Buttercup has no pity, so evil!" — the murmurs were clear in a great chorus: perfect! She was the best among the Powerpuff Girls, it didn't matter if she didn't have the brain of a leader and the strength of a tomboy.

She wears dresses and is gentle. She never says no and is never cold. Her blonde curls frame her face because she is always tidy and doesn't waste her time with sports activities. She never questions, never argues, and never fights. Her gloss is transparent and makes her lips shine, nothing too flashy, but so adorable! Dark lipsticks are for sluts. She is not a slut. Bubbles is the perfect little girl of Townsville, the best example of a good girl! And that's what she repeats to herself in front of her vanity mirror, ensuring she is the cutest at the party. Buttercup would mock her, of course, sarcastically mimicking her high-pitched voice. Bubbles smiled at her reflection, like a good girl, swallowing her tears and anxiety. Hours later, Bubbles would be a very bad girl while destroying that damn mirror.

She goes down the stairs, passing by Blossom's room first to alert her that she planned to spend the afternoon with a classmate from grammar class so they could study. Blossom smiled, and Bubbles thought about how beautiful her sister was, with her smart pink eyes. Why couldn't people see that she was a good girl too? Blossom was kind ans such a good hugger too, after all.

— Don't come back too late, alright? The professor will only return from his trip tomorrow, and I bet he would hate not seeing his favorite at home. — Blossom also knew how to be funny; others just couldn't see her humorous side. — I love you, come back soon. — Maybe it was the dark circles under her eyes and the thick frames of her glasses that made people not like her much. I mean, why did she hide behind so many books? Blossom was really arrogant, Bubbles concluded, smiling and smelling the vanilla shampoo in her sister's red hair. Why doesn't she dye it? Or maybe wear contact lenses? If she doesn't want so much attention, she should think about it. And more! What was the point of all those baggy clothes? The good part of it all was that Blossom was at least less talkative and petulant now. It even seemed like she was on a diet by how little she ate, which made Bubbles happy for the progress made.

Nobody likes fat girls.

Right after that, Bubbles meets Buttercup in the kitchen, who is completely drenched in her own sweat and looking both euphoric and tired. There's a strange contentment in the brunette after her long training sessions, a trait that Bubbles finds even more beautiful when she sees the glow she emits.

— Hi, Bubs! You know that mountain near the beach? So, I ran from there to here! Isn't it amazing? — Buttercup had very bright eyes, with long lashes, a detail that made her face vaguely resemble a porcelain doll. Why couldn't people see she was just energetic? Buttercup's energy was just eccentric. — I heard what you said to the redhead from down here, later I want to know who the guy is. — Buttercup opened the fridge and drank the milk straight from the carton. Probably, the townspeople just thought she was too rough for her lack of manners and her sloppy appearance, plus she was so unfeminine! Didn't she realize that good girls are more polite and delicate? — You know how it is, if he does anything wrong to you, you can tell me and I'll take care of him. — Bubbles silently agreed, analyzing how Buttercup's aggressiveness made her less attractive.

Leaving the house, Bubbles greeted all the neighbors and acquaintances she saw on the streets, always showing great kindness to the various fans excited by her presence. Once, having met a child who appeared to be in her glorious five years, she smiled kindly when the little one hugged her.

— I wanna be like you when I grow up! — She exclaimed and made Bubbles happy because she knew she was an example. That little girl also wanted to be a good girl, as she should be from the start.

Soon, the sun was setting and the streets were getting emptier, because Townsville was a city of good people. People who worked all day and came home late, where they stayed with their families, not making much noise. The good husband was welcomed by his good wife with dinner ready, while the children did their homework. Bubbles wanted to be like those people too, but she wasn't.

She wasn't because her father, the Professor, was a man with no interest in maintaining a fixed relationship with anyone else. She wasn't because her sisters didn't know how to make dinner and didn't do their homework together anymore. She wasn't because she didn't have a mother, a good woman, who would teach her feminine beauty tricks and talk about it with her, always saying that boys can be bad and you have to be smarter. She wasn't because she was a freak with too many powers and responsibilities for a teenager.

But she didn't need to have any of those things to be a good girl because she was born that way, perfect. Heart-shaped lips and red cheeks. Blue and kind eyes await her in the secluded part of town, with a crooked smile. She knows he's not a good boy when he looks at her and repeats this to herself when her breath falters. Boomer needs to be corrected.

That's why she attacks him, unexpectedly. That's why she hurts that face so similar to hers and throws him away. That's why she kicks her opponent while he is down and scared. Punches, more kicks, and more blows. Boomer isn't reacting, but why? Is it to make her feel guilty? No, Bubbles is not to blame for anything, he is a bad person. An impure destruction machine, a wolf, a very bad boy.

A defective version of herself that smiles when she hurts him more and says he will be waiting for her again the next day when Bubbles leaves him in that dark alley, bleeding and in pieces.

Returning to her broken home, she goes up the stairs and looks for Blossom, as agitated and excited as only Bubbles could be! That gentle smile returned to her face, even when she doesn't find her sister in the room reading some stupid book. She doesn't give up and looks for Buttercup too, seeing if she can smell the greasy food in the air or hear the sound of the violent video game she plays. But there is nothing. There is no vanilla smell in Blossom's hair. There is no sound of Buttercup's heavy footsteps. There are no smiles or taunting. There are no hugs. There is nothing. Sighing and thinking about how bad her sisters are, Bubbles goes up to her room and sits in front of the mirror, with the brush in hand, she hums.

— I am a good girl... Aren't I, Blossom? Buttercup?

Bubbles smiles, there they are, after all! Blossom is smiling, but there's blood all over her body, and her head is hanging by a rope. Death by asphyxiation, imagine that! The perfect leader of the Powerpuff Girls was no longer happy with her life, so she decided to end it. What a bad girl she had been! But that's okay, Bubbles would still love her.

Next to the moribund figure was Buttercup with her green eyes wide and full of tears. She was breathing with difficulty and had many wounds on her body, with a special highlight on the one on her collarbone. It said "HIM" on it. Bubbles laughed, that was so Buttercup! Always getting into trouble, this naughty girl. But that's okay, Bubbles would still love her.

She laughed for a few minutes with the brush in her hand until her soft laughter turned into exasperated sobs and her eyebrows furrowed on her pretty face.

— Girls, the Professor will be back soon, he won't like to know that you are causing trouble. — She spoke, and those twisted images seemed even more vivid. — Seriously, girls! Get out of there, nobody likes girls like that! — She stood up from the chair and screamed even louder than she thought she could. — Why can't you be good girls!? She threw the brush at the mirror and watched it shatter, taking with it all the images she had of her sisters. Bubbles screamed, trying to gather the pieces of the object to see them again.

— I'm sorry, I'm sorry…

Bubbles was not a good girl.

Bubbles was a very bad girl, crying in the midst of her mess. But it was okay, her sisters would still love her if they were there.

---

This one is kinda surprising to me, I didn't remember none of the details in the end of it, also the reference about Hologram too....

@meowmeow518 I did my service for the community.

[starter-library]

Guillermo Del Toro’s Pinocchio Lyric Starters

EDIT AS YOU SEE FIT

My Son

“You are my shining sun; My moon, my stars, my clear blue daylight sky”

“If you looked at me today my heart would heal so fast”

“If you held me right away I’d be complete at last”

“You are my favorite, favorite thing. Better than sunset, better than spring”

“You bring me joy, you make me sing in the morning, in the evening too”

“You are everything to me and I love you”

“My son, my son. You are my golden sun”

Everything is New To Me

“All the things my eyes can see, Everything is new to me”

“What do you call it?”

“What to do with it?”

“I love it, I love it!”

“The world is rich with funny words, They ring like bells, those tiny words”

“They dance in my mind like a chorus line, Those silly words of mine”

“Alright- alright that’s enough”

We Were a King Once

“We were a king once Can we be king twice?”

“We were bathing in milk, Played for diamonds and silk once. But we want it twice”

“My show was a magnet for the crowd”

“You were the kings once. Mon Dieu, was it nice”

“You were knights of the night, full of glory and might once. So let’s get it twice”

“We need an ace, a prince, a hero with no fears, no tears, no shame”

“We lit big fat hills of one hundred-dollar bills once. Can we do it twice?”

“Believe in you. Believe in me.”

My Bubblegum

“I scream, I cry for ice cream and for pie”

“if I ate a few gummies I still would eat a ton”

“You are everything to me and I love you”

“I’m free as the wind, No, I’m flying!”

“Your son is happy to have fun”

The Late Lamented

“Thou art gone, thy life hast fled. All shall now bewail the dead”

“No more flesh and no more bone. No more trouble to bemoan”

“Like a wave along the shore, you have passed, you will complain nevermore”

“The late, late lamented. For death can’t be prevented”

“No more feast, Now rest in peace”

“No more pain, You can’t complain”

Ciao Papa

“Time has come to say farewell”

“For how long will I go? Is it far? No one knows, no one can tell”

“If I am gone for a long, long time, I’ll pack away a fine piece of shine”

“I am ready to go, going far. Now I know it will be swell”

“I shall be gone for a long, long time- Shall be picking many peaks to climb”

“Rain or shine, I’ll keep in mind your memory”

“As I gambol on my long, long climb, I hold on tight to our best of times”

“Eyes in the rain, I try to hide tears of a boy who shouldn’t cry”

“Forevermore I’ll keep in mind your memory”

Fatherland March

“I fight for the land, I fight oversea, I’ll fight up to the end”

“The horizon in sight, stand up, follow the light”

“Like an eagle soaring- Magnificent and free- I’ll be marching, on the path to victory”

“We are brave! We are young!”

Big Baby Il Duce March

“Go smell your farts and pray”

“Eat your boogers, your slime, You can also get mine”

“Eat caca, big baby, eat caca, we are strong”

Better Tomorrows

“Hop to the top of the day, the drops are easy to swallow”

“Mop your tears and mend your sorrows, do not drown your soul wishing for better tomorrows”

“You want to think bright, You want to think right”

“A star falling down doesn’t break the night”

“You want to think bright whatever you do”

“For life has a funny way of going round and round”

“You can make it right well worth a good fight”

“If some days have downs and lows, open your arms to better tomorrows”

“You want to think right- To let your heart sing on a summer night”

“Fly high with the band- Just get up and swing”

“You can make it right- Well worth a good fight”

“These are the simple things that matter”

“You make it right and your heart is bright, so let the world go how it goes”

[sgt-purp1e-the-donutjedin]

That Man (From The Flatland) [Ween Cover]

Guitar played by Me. Bass played by Me. Vocals by Me. Drums sampled from What I'm Becoming by Cage The Elephant (as played by Jared Champion).

.

Video Material:

Midori (the band)

Melon Kinenbi (the band)

.

Lyrics:

Verse 1:

Biding my time, in a century gone

I'm a dunce, and you are queen

Wagons on wheels, can you dig into this?

I've got a fortuneteller willing to feel

A dusty blonde

Came prancing along

And she carried the key to my soul

Alas, an old man

Let her see who I am

And she went with the boy next door

Verse 2:

The heat, it can burn

And the heat, it can turn

A man into a red fire stem

Slowly, we search

For the wagon dust

But the cow is screaming in pain

So he came

Like a chill of shame

He smiled when the love tore my world down

Maybe the dust

Or her eternal lust

I'll never know about your flatland song

Chorus:

Ooh, that man

From the flatland

That fat man

Stole my woman

Ooh, that man

On the flatland

That fat man

Stole my woman.

[mrsarnasdelicious]

TLK Christmas - Christmas with Steappa

"Ah, there you are." You say, as your husband ducks into your cozy, warm house. Steapa grunts and comes over to kiss your cheek. "How was mass?" You ask him. "Dull, shame you could not be there." He replies. "I've got the kids, thank you very much." You point out.

Steapa embraces you from behind. "Dinner smells good. Beats the feast Alfred is throwing." He grunts. You know he is not lying. Alfred's Christmas 'feasts' always mean the King trying to teach his guests about not indulging in the better things in life. Gruel and bread hard as cobble stones would be served to the nobility tonight. Luckily your husband is home with you tonight.

You prefer him home during the Christmas days, so you may at least celebrate somewhat. You have a lot of mouthes to feed and bodies to clothe, so the celebration can never be too extensive, but as long as you are all together and the children get a small gift they will be happy with, you are not at all complaining. And luckily Steapa gets paid some extra during the Christmas days.

"Help your mother, set the table." Stea\ppa tells your oldest. "Yes father." The boy says, rushing to the cupboard to grab plates and cutlery. "Good lad." Steapa rufffled his hair. Your son preens under his father's attention and it is absolutely adorable.

You serve a dinner that is very luxurious for your standards. The bird you roasted Steapa brought down himself. It is a beautiful fat partridge. Alongside it you have fresh bread, potatoes and a stew of vegetables and herbs. Steapa's also brought a nice block of cheese and a big bowl of berries. An absolute feast.

The children sit down in their places at the table. You sit down and Steappa leads the prayer. "Amen." You whisper when he is done. "Amen." The children chorus. "Now give me your plates." You say. You give your children first and then your husband. But there is still plenty for you.

"Happy Christmas." Steapa takes you by the hand and kisses your knuckles. "Happy Christmas." You agree softly.

[incorrect-fandom]

Elise: Okay, Dan, help him. Dan: Wait, is this a trick? Elise: Nope. Let 'er rip. Just keep it clean. Dan: CHRIS!!! Chris, you have to be the stupidest man on the planet to think this is a good idea! Have you seen what you're wearing?! That outfit makes you look like a sequin trainwreck! LOOK AT YOU! You're part of a twelve-headed jackass! This chorus is the feces that is produced when shame eats too much stupidity! You people make me envy the deaf and the BLIND! UNDERWEAR! MONEY! FAT!

[randomvarious]

Today’s compilation:

Nettwerk Sound Sampler: Food for Thought 1987 Synthpop / Alternative Rock / Industrial / New Wave

Over the years, the Nettwerk label has grown itself into something of a Canadian music powerhouse, boasting a highly eclectic roster and an immense catalog to boot. But their output wasn't always so diverse. In their earliest days, Nettwerk was known for being an alternative / industrial dance / synthpop label, with an act like cult favorite Skinny Puppy representing a significant chunk of their first releases.

But after spending a few years of building up their roster, Nettwerk decided to start issuing their first label sampler series, a two-volume set called Food for Thought, which was made in order to showcase the label's talent. The first volume hit the shelves in 1987 and the second one came the following year.

Now, overall, this first volume in the series just isn't all that good; most of it's disposable, run-of-the-mill, kinda generic, feels-like-it's-missing-something, late 80s fare. But the B-side on this record still comes with a couple absolute gems that are definitely worth highlighting here. First is Moev's "Wanting," which appears to be an exclusive edit that's not on YouTube. Moev is a Vancouver-based band whose guitarist, Mark Jowett, is actually one of Nettwerk's co-founders. In fact, Nettwerk was initially launched in order to distribute the band's material, as the tiny San Franciscan label that they were on at the time had gone belly-up. And as far as the synthpop tunes on this album go, "Wanting" is by far its most powerful one. Its sudden addition of stringy synths, hard snare beat, and fat bassline on the chorus help transform it into a thing of late 80s beauty. Shame that I can't easily provide the specific edit to you all, though 😔.

The final track on this album is the best song of all, though: Severed Heads' "Nature 10 (Bad Mood Version)." This song by the Sydney-based band appears to have been an exclusive to this sampler for a very long time, and it's this utterly brilliant, three-plus-minute, melancholic, vocal, proto-IDM thing that predates the actual start of the genre by at least a few years. It contrasts all these dissonant electronic sounds and noises with soft and pleasant keys, and then it adds a pitched-up tantric vocal loop on its back half. A really incredible piece of music right there.

A lot of underwhelming material from this juggernaut Canadian label's first ever sampler, but there's still a couple fantastic tracks on it, especially the one from Sydney's Severed Heads. Anybody else know of anyone who was crafting a proto-IDM sound like that all the way back in 1987? I'm simply floored here! 🤯

Highlights:

Moev - "Wanting" Severed Heads - "Nature 10 (Bad Mood Version)"

[dollmia]

Anorexia

[Verse 1]

mama once said that i'll gain weight

said that im the broadest , the tallest here

sisters have said i ain't skinny enough

'your shape is good' i hated that word

i hate my body being 'good' i'd rather be as thin as a stick

now i feel insecure , shame of my body

i wear loose clothes to hide that body

and i was one hundred sixty four centimeters with fifty kilograms

was i really that plump ? yeah i'd say

[Pre-Chorus]

for hours now im hungry

my stomach keeps asking for lunch

and i keep refusing , resuming fasting

and if i put something inside my mouth i'll start hating on me

[Chorus]

please be skinny

please get those fats off

stop eating , walk on tiptoes , keep manifesting

please be

unhealthily skinny

worryingly skinny

thirty eight kilo's , fourteen bmi

ask me to eat , say im so thin that im gonna die , then i'll be the happiest person on the earth

[Verse 2]

brother said that i suffer of bulimia

but i think it's rather anorexia

and you think i don't like it ? well i do

mama is telling me to eat more

and im just like fine then i'll let it go

and all for my stomach is just milktea

milktea for breakfast , lunch , and dinner

[Pre-Chorus]

for hours now im hungry

my stomach keeps asking for lunch

and i keep refusing , resuming fasting

and if i put something inside my mouth i'll start hating on me

[Chorus]

please be skinny

please get those fats off

stop eating , walk on tiptoes , keep manifesting

please be

unhealthily skinny

worryingly skinny

thirty eight kilo's , fourteen bmi

ask me to eat , say im so thin that im gonna die , then i'll be the happiest person on the earth

[allthemusic]

Week ending: 1st December

Things are getting chilly, Christmas is approaching, and with it, three fresh new tracks, at least one of which I suspect I already know? It's well known enough that I've seen jokes and titles for other things that riff on it - a good sign? Certainly a sign that it has sticking power, for better or for worse.

Love Is a Many-Splendored Thing - The Four Aces (peaked at Number 2)

Well, the first version of this I found was very low quality, but even with a better quality version, I can tell early on that this isn't the version that I know. I did indeed know the song, but the vibe here is completely different to what I expected, a bit faster and more full of instruments and other voices. Whereas I think I know a version which just has a solo man singing?

I was also surprised, as the tune got going, to be hearing an electric bass? It's a groovier, more insistent vibe than I expected - I fully thought this would be on the soupy side.

The lyrics kind of make up for it, I guess, except they get off with the cheese by dint of their sheer audacity and scope, as they describe love as the April rose that only grows in the early spring and the golden crown that makes a man a kind. It's the sort of song where you hear about lovers kissing on lonely hills, enshrouded in mist, and how your fingers touched my silent heart and taught it how to sing. It walks the line between being delightfully over-the-top but also avoiding any overly cliché or lame images. It's all just fresh enough and earnest enough to work.

It's also got a soaring, swelling quality to it that carries the lyrics. In some ways, it makes me think of Secret Love, by Doris Day. Both songs have a really dramatic emotional heft, and both are pitched and arranged so as to make you want to join in, with these long, drawn out high notes, not quite so high as to be unattainable. It's good, I can see why lots of people covered this one.

This was apparently the best-selling version of the song, though it was originally written not for the Four Aces, but as an instrumental and then chorus theme for a similarly-titled romantic drama film, all about an American reporter who falls in love with a Eurasian doctor who was originally from Hong Kong. The film actually sounds pretty daring for 1955, though the main female role was apparently played by a white actress in yellowface, which... yeah, not great.

Overall, I like the song a lot, and I can see how it fits with the film's story, which you can't always say about these film tie-in songs.

Ain't That a Shame - Pat Boone (7)

This was originally a Fats Domino song, and I can tell you already, I will probably enjoy Fats' version better. There's just something about these rock and roll originals that have such a good energy, but the UK charts sadly seem to get the watered down white-person version of them, at least at this point in the 1950s.

Not that Pat's not giving it a good go, and apparently Fats himself enjoyed the cover - and the royalties money that it earned him! So maybe we shouldn't be too harsh on this, especially because it is, despite everything, some pretty textbook rock and roll, perhaps the clearest example we've heard so far? A lot of this can be credited to Fats' songwriting chops, to be fair, but still - this is good fun!

We start with two words, then two gunshot-like sax (horn?) blasts, almost reminiscent of the opening to Rock Around the Clock or Jailhouse Rock, as Pat sings about how You made // Me cry // When you said // Goodbye. It grabs your attention very effectively early on - a strong start!

Pat then goes on to sarcastically belt lines about how Ain't that a shame / You're the one to blame. He seems to be on fine, sarcastic form throughout, actually, with a gleeful sort of insincerity on lines like Oh well, goodbye / Although I'll cry / Ain't that a shame? You really get the sense that he isn't that broken up about it all - or that he is, but that he's writing this song as a sort of angry kiss-off to the love who dumped him.

Fittingly for this, the whole track has a sort of party vibe, completely with properly rollicking sax and piano solos, a fun arpeggiated chord pattern and some supremely hammy "bop-a-doo-wah" backing singers. It's good fun, in ways that can probably mostly be credited to good song-writing and an ear for instrumentation, and it all makes this song probably the most fully-formed rock and roll song we've had so far.

Twenty Tiny Fingers - The Stargazers (4)

Normally I'd assume from the title that this was a mawkishly sentimental song about having a baby and looking at their tiny hands, or something. However, since it's the Stargazers, who recently gave us the nightmarish but at least fun Close The Door, I'm willing to extend a bit of goodwill here. The Stargazers have been many things when they have appeared in this project, but boring has rarely been one of them.

And yeah, it turns out I was right on both counts. This is a song about babies, but it's got a bit of that Stargazers silliness, too. Much like its spiritual predecessor, Where Will the Dimple Be, this song was also covered at some point by Alma Cogan. This is all honestly making me wonder why people were so obsessed with songs about babies in 1955?! I know it was the baby boom, but still - did people really want multiple songs about having a baby?

Thankfully, the Stargazers keep the pace up, with a sort of oom-pah bass, trombone versions of the "shave and a haircut" riff, and some rather daft lyrics. Sure, we get some sentimental stuff about how the babies have Twenty tiny fingers, twenty tiny toes / Two angel faces, each with a turned up nose. One looks like mum, while the other other has a bald patch exactly like his pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop. Fine. But we also get some genuinely funny lines, including the description of the mum's waters breaking and the couple rushing to the hospital, and the dad waiting on pins only to be told with a handshake from the doctor that it's twins. Keeping it light, you know?

I also quite like more realistic lyrics later on about the difficulties of having twins, such as how We've got cribs and bottles and bibs / All round our three roomed flat / No time to see what's on TV / No room to hang your hat, or about how It's twice the laundry, twice the milk / It's twice the baby clothes / It's double this and double thatn /Oh how the money goes. All of this seems pretty accurate, based on everything I've heard from people with twins. So that's something.

And more than that, the song just doesn't outstay its welcome. As novelty songs go, that's pretty good. I'm not gonna be clamouring to put this back on, but it's fine, and keeps moving nicely. Which leaves me with just one question - if there are two babies, shouldn't there be 40 fingers and toes? What has happened to these babies' hands and feet? Should I be worried?

Well, that was a good, fun set of songs. I was kind of expecting at least one duff song, but really, I'd listen to all three of these again. We are in the rock and roll era proper, now, and it's so good! I have some misgivings categorising Pat Boone as a rock and roller. But here? Yeah, he's rocking and rolling with te best of them, and honestly, it's making me want to listen properly to Fats Dominos, so that's a win for both artists.

Favourite song of the bunch: Ain't That a Shame

[purpurrock]

I really don't like my school.

I'm tired of being surrounded by bigotry everyday. I'm tired of seeing the concept, casual ableism, racism, classism, homophobia, fatphobia, etc.

I'm sick of being surrounded by Christianity all the damn time. I hate not being able to be my true self. Not being able to come out is one thing. But i don't feel safe to even say that I'm an agonist. It's so. So aggrevating.

I hate that these people are Christians. Not because they are christians, but because they're think they're good people. They're not. They're shallow and disrespectful and bigoted and OBLIVIOUS. Its like the chorus to that one song. Blow my brains out by tikkle me.

I hate how much of a hypocrite it's made me. I talk about how they're all bigots, but I'm one too. I'm also fatphobic, transphobic and ableist on a daily basis. Even at my own expense. It didn't bother me at first because it's always been like this. But becoming more politically aware, seeing how fucked up everything is and how ingrained hatred and bigotry are in our everyday lives, it really really fucking hurts.

I hate the girls in my class. Me and my friend refer to them as the songs. They're pieces of shit. They mock us if we tell a joke to eachother and laugh about it. They look at us weird and say stuff behind our backs, like saying that I stink. We're the only "girls" (quotes because im closeted) in the class that aren't apart of their little group, other than this one girl who's always on her phone and doesn't really care about anybody.

I'm sick of hearing slurs on the daily. I'm sick of hearing fat-shaming on the daily. I'm sick of hearing the word monkey and gyatt. I'm sick of being apart of all these problems.

I hate that there's no room to change. If I try to change my jokes, or call people out on their bigotry, I'll be labelled as "that guy" and excluded. My friend? She'd definitely get annoyed. My other friend might start to get with the program, but at the same time, I don't know. And the first friend was,, well, my first friend at this school. She's already mad at me today I think- at the very least, she's feeling left out because of me and second friend. I don't know what to do. I don't want to be at this school. I never wanted to be at this school.

I'm going to try to change. I won't have enough time to write an entire research paper over break, and I doubt both friends would read the whole thing. But I'm gonna send them a string of texts, maybe. I'll probably say it's a new years resolution thing, even though it's not. I'll tell them, for starters, that I won't be making fatphobic and ableist jokes anymore and that if I make any I expect them to call me out, and that I'll be doing the same to them. If I end up being "that guy", they'll leave me and I'll have no friends. But it's the right thing to do. I think.

O just don't wanna be a bad person anymore.

[school-in-london]

20231125 10TH ANNIV. TOUR [TOKYO]

■ DJ: タイラダイスケ

Yuno / Fall In Love

Los Retros / Someone to Spend Time With

Kurt Vile / Gone Girl

The Arcs / Sunshine

Fonteyn / Girl on a Motorcycle

Hovvdy / True Love

Buzzard Buzzard Buzzard / On the Kill Again

Sam Blasucci / Sha La La

Big Thief / Forgotten Eyes

Primal Scream / Star

Daddy Freddy & Horace Andy / Dirty Money Business

Stimulator Jones / Need Your Body

OGRE YOU ASSHOLE / 真ん中で(from 浮かれている人twilight edition EP)

Janelle Monáe / Lipstick Lover

Cleo Sol / 23

Ami Faku & Gallo Remixed / There's Music in the Air (feat. Black Coffee)

Vampire Weekend / We Belong Together (feat. Danielle Haim)

Benny Sings / Pyjamas feat. Remi Wolf

lola coca / The Map

- ■ DJ: 遠藤孝行

Little Simz / Point and Kill (feat. Obongjayar)

Wu-Lu / Scrambled Tricks

Twin Peaks / Dance Through It

The Last Dinner Party / Sinner

Peace / Happy Cars

CAROLINE POLACHEK / Bunny Is A Rider

DEAN / Love (feat. Syd)

Dua Lipa / Houdini

Tame Impala / Is It True

Blur / Music Is My Radar

Water From Your Eyes / Out There

The XX / On Hold

The 1975 / Happiness

The Strokes / Brooklyn Bridge to Chorus

The Cribs / Men's Needs

Bloom Twins / Drunk & Loud

Thee Oh Sees / Die Laughing

Mock Media / Modern Visions

- ■ DJ: 村田タケル

Deadletter / Line The Cows

Water From Your Eyes / True Life

The Psychotic Monks / Post-Post-

Thank / Trouble Cube

Fat Dog / King of the Slugs

HMLTD / The End Is Now

Black Country, New Road / Dancers

boygenius / Not Strong Enough

Arlo Parks / Weightless

Emily Yacina / Gleaming

The Drums / I Want It All

Computerwife / Vacation

Royel Otis / I Wanna Dance With You

cumgirl8 / llc

Current Joys / Dr Satan

Lifeguard / 17-18 Lovesong

My Bloody Valentine / Nothing Much To Lose

Protomartyr / 3800 Tigers

bar italia / my little tony

Treeboy & Arc / Box Of Frogs

Italia 90 / Funny Bones

- ■ DJ: タイラダイスケ

Dehd / Bop

The Strokes / The Adults Are Talking

Dominic Fike / How Much Is Weed?

SuperJazzClub / Cameras

Watch the Ride & Nia Archives / Mash up the Dance

Miso / Emotions (feat. Lil Cherry)

Mura Masa / Whenever I Want

The Postal Service / Such Great Heights

Romy & Fred again.. / Strong

Troye Sivan / Rush

salute / Joy

Disclosure & RAYE / Waterfall

Jorja Smith / Little Things

PinkPantheress & Ice Spice / Boy's a liar Pt. 2

Eliza Rose / Better Love

bed / Kare Wa

Confidence Man / Angry Girl

Nirvana / Drain You

The Beatles / Tomorrow Never Know's

The Stone Roses / I Am The Resurrection

- ■ DJ: 遠藤孝行

LCD Soundsystem / All My Friends

Blur / Tender(Cornelius Remix)

Arctic Monkeys / 505

Hosegirl / Option8

Yuck / Get Away

Hole / Celebrity Skin

Courting / Flex

THEE MICHELLE GUN ELEPHANT / Danny Go

The Libertines / Don't Look Back Into the Sun

Equal Parts / lying Down

Ash / Burn Baby Burn

Bleachers / Modern Girl

Elvis Costello / Pump It Up

Catfish and the Bottlemen / Emily

Alvvays / Pharmacist

Ride / Chelsea Girl

- ■ DJ: 村田タケル

The Hazmats / Wondered

Yard Act / The Trapper's Pelts

Porchlight / Noel

Moin / Melon

Yo La Tengo / Fallout

Horsegirl / Anti-Groly

bar italia / worlds greatest emoter

bar italia / Polly Armour

bar italia / Punkt

Tramhaus / Karen is a Punk

shame / The Fall Of Paul

Double Virgo / No Sweat

Doss / Strawberry

Sextile / New York

Crack Cloud / Image Craft (Live in London)

Model/Actriz / Amaranth

black midi / John L

The Lounge Society / Last Breath

The Murder Capital / Return My Head

Moreish Idols / Chum

Pet Shimmers / Mortal Sport Argonaut

Exlovers / Moth-Eaten Memories

Italia 90 / New Factory

The Wake / On Our Hnoeymoon

The Cure / Jumping Someone Else's Train

HighSchool / Only a Dream

Courting / Famous

Tramhaus / Beep Beep

~Ending~ bar italia / Friends