#he was like the classic rich guy who just find himself broke in any American sitcom

[maxdibert]

Sirius Black calling Snape “Snivelly” when Snape, with not a penny to his name, had to keep living in that shitty slum he grew up in, in a rundown Muggle neighborhood, without complaining once, while Sirius was crying in his mum’s room after two weeks in his family’s posh London house because he couldn’t stand hearing her voice—that’s one of those ironies in their dynamic that cracks me up. Honestly, outside his role as a school bully, Sirius was just a posh kid with first-world problems and thin skin, throwing tantrums over things that, for the guy he thought was a whiny, soft crybaby, were just another Tuesday.

[call-me-aesthetic]

If Twisted Wonderland was an American Public School

WARNING: There are some slight sensitive topics that are featured in here! Reader discretion is advised!

Part 2 can be found here

Heartslabyul

Riddle Rosehearts:

- That one preppy girl who takes all honors and AP classes 😑

- Wants everyone to know that he’s becoming a doctor one day for his strict parents or he’ll dishonor the family

- Reminds the teacher about homework, knowing well that he’ll get slander for it

- Complains about how he got a 90 on his test or a B on his report card, a try hard much?

- Wears a cardigan with thicc but cute glasses since he’s one of those people with can’t see shit on the board so he has to move to the front of the class

Ace Trappola:

- The SoundCloud rapper, that’s it

- “Wanna listen to my mixtape? It’s pretty fire, my guy.” 😩🔥

- You will not miss him BLASTING out some song on his Bluetooth speaker, that shit be echoing through the hallways

- Tells you to stop what you’re doing only for him to either sing horribly or do a backflip, thinking that he’s so cool

- Wears a Supreme jacket with AirPods and waves on his head

Deuce Spade:

- Assuming that he’s still a delinquent, he’s that kid with the most fucked up school record

- Not much of a bully but will still talk shit to your face without caring, might even throw stuff at you during a lesson and you would be the one getting in trouble instead of him 🗿

- If he ever gets mad, it would be overdramatic like kicking the desks, punching the lockers, or walking out of the classroom unannounced and everyone would look at each other wondering wtf happened

- Covers the entire desks with drawings of skulls and those “s” if you know what I mean

- Wears Champion hoodies, wants you to know that he’s broke and rich at the same time

Trey Clover:

- The guy that’s not really popular but everyone knows him since he’s in all their classes

- Most people might have a crush on him because he’s REALLY nice 😳👉��

- Gives off “older brother” vibes based on the way he looks and acts, like offering you a ride home if you beg ask nicely

- Secretly bakes creme brulee but doesn’t want to mess with the flow so he sticks to the status quo

- Wears the school’s hoodie just because he thinks it looks good on him, and the fact that he doesn’t know what else to wear

Cater Diamond:

- Hot Cheetos girl 🥵

- Has a whole buffet of food in his backpack and will not hesitate to eat them during a lesson, no sharing either sorry

- Excuses himself to the bathroom or full on skips class just to film a Tiktok

- Has about 100 followers on Instagram Magicam and brags about how he’s famous

- Wears a Thrasher hoodie with large hoop earrings and his hair in a bun

Savanaclaw

Leona Kingscholar:

- The kid who flunked their freshman year that also sort of vibes with new classmates

- Always gets mistaken as a teacher by people since he looks and sounds old

- Knows the lessons but still fails them anyways, didn’t really give a damn either 🙄

- Captain of every sports club you can think of, never actually plays but has a lot of knowledge on them

- Wears the school’s letterman from years ago since it used to be his brother’s and that he’s too lazy to buy a new one

Ruggie Bucchi:

- That one kid who NEVER has money for the book fair or any other school event

- Always has to ask his classmates for some cash

- If he somehow does, then he’s one of those kids who buys Diary of the Wimpy Kid or the World Record books

- If he’s feeling cheap, he’ll buy the “cool stuff” like the chocolate scented calculator or fruit snacks 😭

- Wears oversized hoodies and basketball shorts that are clearly hand-me-downs

Jack Howl:

- That one athletic kid who’s both scary good and competitive when it comes to school games like football or soccer

- Literally the best player on his team and without him, they’re trash as hell 💀

- Tries his absolute best to support his teammates without yelling at them for how dumb they are

- “KICK THE FUCKING BALL! DO YOUR LEGS EVEN WORK?!”

- Wears the school’s jersey just to show off his “school spirit”

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto:

- The kid who sell snacks for “charity” but everyone knows he’s keeping the money to himself

- If you don’t have cash or try to negotiate with him, the only thing he’ll do is raise the price up

- “What do you mean you don’t have ten bucks? I can see it in your pocket.”

- Just bring nothing with you, he’ll doing anything to steal your stuff 🤭

- Wears a collar shirt with a tie and khakis that have pockets to keep his glasses and money in

Jade Leech:

- The kid who puts on a goody two shoes facade but is actually a stoner

- Only does “safe” drugs like vape but occasionally smokes weed, mostly in the bathroom or behind the school 🌬

- Can play it off and hide the scent when he’s high, teachers never suspect anything from him

- No one really cares to stop him unless he gets caught or something idk

- Wears clothing that either makes him look like a businessman or a junky, there’s nothing in between

Floyd Leech:

- The kid that’s plays basketball or volleyball just because he’s hella tall, and is actually good at the sports but doesn’t put much effort into them

- Always stays behind after gym, even though the teacher tries to make him leave for his next class 😬

- “I swear after this one shot, I’ll go to class.” *He never made that shot*

- Will jump you no matter who or where you are, and will get angry if you step on his new shoes

- Wears the jersey of any famous team with the latest pair of Jordan sneakers

Scarabia

Kalim Al Asim:

- VSCO girl at best, don’t lie to me now 🤡

- The only words he knows are “And I oop– sksksk.” and “Save the turtles.”

- Walks during a track meet while everyone else is running and sweating hard, the teacher doesn’t care either

- Doesn’t really do anything in gym but talks to his classmates and stands near the water fountain to refill his Hydro flask

- Wears tie dye shirts with cute scrunchies

Jamil Viper:

- That one quiet kid who everybody thinks is a serial killer but he’s actually not, I swear

- He just wants school to be over and spend the rest of his summer relaxing 😔

- Although he shouldn’t abuse his “power,” he‘ll move his hands in his pockets or backpack to make it look like he’s about to pull a weapon out.

- “Chill, I’m just grabbing a pencil.” *Everyone in the class started crying*

- Wears dark colored hoodies that intimidates people but are actually comfy

Pomefiore

Vil Schoenheit:

- The baddie popular girl 😌💅✨

- Arrives to school late with a Starbucks in hand from his local Target

- Fixes himself every 5 seconds like reapplying his lipgloss or spraying Bath and Body Works cherry blossom perfume

- Uses acrylic nails and long hair extensions as weapons during a cat fight

- Wears a crop top with ripped jeans and those clout sunglasses

Rook Hunt:

- That creepy guy in the hallways who tries to get your attention, even if you don’t know him

- Scares people when he says, “Ayo, where my hug at?” ���💯

- Uses at least 10 cans of Axe body spray a week after gym class, which stinks up the locker rooms

- Waves at you if he passes your class, even walking into the room just to say hi

- Wears literally anything but always include a hat

Epel Felmier:

- The artist girl who just wants to be alone 🧑‍🎨

- Purposely draws in front of you but pretends like you’re not looking

- If you complement him, he’ll just brush it off and proceeds to diss himself

- “Thanks but I’m not THAT good at drawing, teehee.” *Insert Radio Rebel face*

- Wears a hoodie or a cardigan with big pockets to put his art supplies in

Ignihyde

Idia Shroud:

- I don’t even need to tell you who he is, y’all already know ahaha 🥴

- Sneaks a whole PlayStation in his backpack so he can play with it during lunch

- Is on his phone 24/7 even in class to the point where teachers don’t care anymore

- Tries to get people into anime but only to little success

- Wears a shirt of any anime character or that damn ahegao hoodie, girl bye

Ortho Shroud:

- The nerdy kid who’s known for destroying others at many games

- Plays classics like D&D, Yugioh, Pokémon, the whole shabang

- Daily Beyblade battles during recess with everyone surrounding him, the menacing aura radiates off of him

- Will steal your things if you lose to him but gives it back a week later cuz he’s sweet 🥰

- Wears light up Sketchers shoes and those Minecraft shirts you find at Old Navy

Diasomnia

Malleus Draconia:

- The theatre kid who also goes to band practice, change my mind 👁👄👁

- Takes his role seriously when it comes to school plays and concerts, even if he gets casted as a damn tree or doesn’t go solo

- Remembers the songs and their lyrics to any musical you name, a really good singer at that too

- Plays almost every instrument, you definitely know this since you can hear him down the hallways during a test

- Wears a white button up shirt, black pants with fancy dress shoes, and top it all off with a fricking Rolex watch

Lilia Vanrouge:

- The weird guy who pranks people and vandalizes school property in every way possible

- If you ever get a textbook with a message that tells you to go to a certain page only for you to found a picture of a dick, yeah that was him 😒

- When using a Chromebook, he’ll leave a tab open on YouTube so when the next person uses it, pray that your ears will still work by tomorrow

- During lunch, he is a literal DEMON that mixes milk with chicken nuggets together and having the audacity to eat it too

- Wears an oversized raincoat or a windbreaker but idk wtf kind of things he has hiding underneath

Silver:

- That guy in class who consumes Monster energy drinks and falls asleep 99% of the time but somehow manages to pass the class 🤷

- Whenever he’s awake, he’ll talk to the teachers since he’s basically friends with them for some reason

- Writes his name out of boredom on any desk you sit on but in different places, sometimes around the corners or the sides

- Has a sixth sense because he’ll wake up if you try to draw on his face and if you did get something on him, it’s on sight

- Wears those colorful hoodies that zips all the way up to cover his face with a matching backpack, it’s pretty cool ngl

Sebek Zigvolt:

- That kid who literally knows everything about historical wars and will show it off during class

- Also has knowledge on weaponry, which has people questioning him but he’s just very dedicated on serving his country and people

- Knows how to fight and defend himself from a bitch since he spent his summer at a military boot camp, put respect on my man’s name 😤

- Honestly a great partner for a group project, actually does the given work but not the whole thing for you

- Wears anything that has camo pattern and chunky combat boots

I only made this because me and my friends were talking about our school memories so yeah. This is based from my experience so they might not be exactly accurate. Might even be a part two if you want.

[trillian-anders]

amor de mi vida - 1939

pairing: bucky barnes x latinx!reader

warnings: slow burn, racism, prejudice, fluff, language barrier

word count: 5805

description: Bucky Barnes is a sweet young Brooklyn boy, just on the cusp of manhood, a hopeless romantic that falls in love with almost every girl he sees. when he sets his eyes on a young girl fresh off the boat from Cuba he finds out how hard love can really be.

for @cake-writes​ 1940s challenge.

Bucky loved Brooklyn, he loved everything about the borough. The Dodgers, the noise, the diner down the street from his house that made the best cherry pie he’d ever had, he even loved the way it smelled. The salty breeze from the that rolled in every morning and evening, the Statue of Liberty lighting up the bay. He was a Brooklyn boy through and through, even if his birth certificate said he was born in Shelbyville, Indiana. His parents moved here before he could even remember, Brooklyn was all he knew. 

He was on the cusp of manhood. The final years of his schooling before he was ready to take on whatever life threw his way. He didn’t have any expectations. To him it was so simple. Take up more hours in his Dad’s shop, find a beautiful dame, get married, pop out a few kids, have everything his parents ever had and everything they ever wanted for him. He felt so young, full of hope and ready. Ready for anything.

Munching on crackerjack he sat, feet swinging on the edge of pier five, his best friend sketching idly next to him. He tried to ignore the younger boy’s rattling breaths. He was fine, those breaths were normal for him, that’s all that mattered. Steve had recently had a pretty bad scare, when his Ma came down with TB and passed there had been a big concern that the sickly boy had caught it from her. There was quarantine and Bucky thought he was going to lose the best friend he’d ever had. 

Thankfully that wasn’t the case. 

The pair sat in a comfortable silence, the kind that comes with years of companionship. Just the company soothing them from their day. A test in math, the girl that just broke Bucky’s heart, another girl that wouldn’t pay Steve any mind. Bucky’s eyes drifted to his friend’s sketchpad, the Manhattan skyline taking shape slowly but steadily. 

It was warm, the beginning of summer. The switch from wearing sweater vests to short sleeve button downs, wool socks traded in for more breathable cotton. Bucky leaned back on his hands, feet swaying slightly over the edge of the dock watching the ship moving slowly in the water towards Ellis Island. 

“I wonder what it must be like,” Bucky said, “To leave your entire life behind and go somewhere completely new.” Steve’s pencil stopped on the page, looking over at his friend. 

“Must be scary,” Steve started, “Not knowing anyone I mean.” Bucky hummed in agreement. 

“Ma said she’s gonna make meatloaf tonight,” Bucky stood from the dock, helping his friend to his feet, “You’re comin’ to dinner right?” Steve nodded, stuffing his sketchbook into his bag. “Good, cause you really didn’t have a choice there pal.” Bucky’s arm swung over Steve’s shoulder, dragging the smaller boy behind him as they hopped into the junker that was Bucky’s pride and joy. 

The 11 year old Ruxton he’d found rusting away in a scrap yard last year, totaled in an accident and discarded. He’d only recently gotten it back up and running, but it was still a terrifying ride. He dared not take it farther than a few city blocks, but it was still nice to drive. They pretended like they were rich folk above it all, driving the recently painted sleek black car down the streets, wind in their hair only because the windows wouldn’t roll up. 

The next day Bucky fell in love again, and he couldn’t even remember who broke his heart yesterday. Dorothy Seeley. A beautiful blonde dame, bright green eyes, legs for days. She was in his english class. He could see a future with her, something Bucky always wanted. He could imagine loving her forever, her pretty pink mouth pressed against his in his car because he had one, and that made him special. Better than the other boys. 

He was sweet on her, doting, for days. A trip to Coney Island that left him broke, the drive-in, burgers and fries at the diner by his house. Steve in tow. Always. 

He was leant up against the side of his car, Dot pressed against his chest as they exchanged a soft kiss. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” He asked. She grinned, lips parting like petals around shiny white teeth. 

“You’re keen on me Barnes.” Holding his hand and stepping back, her skirt twirled around her legs. 

“Is that a bad thing?” He grinned, his own pearly whites showing. He could feel Steve rolling his eyes from inside the car. 

“Tomorrow then,” He pulled Dot in close to land one more cheeky kiss before she was skipping up the steps into her family’s brownstone, and out of sight. Bucky’s grinning face turned around to look at his friend, slipping into the driver’s seat. 

“I’m gonna marry that girl.” He said.

Steve rolled his eyes, “You say that about every girl.” 

“I mean it this time,” Bucky assured him, pulling the car away from the curb. 

Steve laughed, “You say that too.” 

Bucky’s family wasn’t rich, but they weren’t poor either. His Ma would always say, “We have just what we need.” And it was true. 

Bucky was the eldest of five, the only boy with four younger sisters, each spaced two years apart. The youngest being his favorite, but he’d never tell the other three. 

Rebecca Barnes was his partner in crime, the sweet girl looked most like him, at only nine years old she was a spitfire. Full of attitude and sass, almost always covered in dirt, and easily conned both him and his father into giving her penny candy on almost a daily basis. 

Susan Barnes was eleven and extremely smart, she’d often help her older siblings with their homework, studying. She almost always had a book in her hand and could recite Shakespeare off the top of her head. 

Ruth Barnes was thirteen and hated everyone and everything. It was just that age. She was experimenting with makeup, almost always on the telephone, and generally didn’t speak to anyone in the house unless she absolutely had to. Talking to her lately was just about as hard as pulling teeth. 

Lastly was Virgina Barnes, she was fifteen and much to her father and brother’s chagrin was a little boy crazy. Bucky was sure she was dating someone she wouldn’t bring around to the house, he’d often spy on her in the halls of their high school trying to catch a glimpse of who the punk was that had necked with his sister, but so far she’s been sneaky and kept out of sight. 

His parents were still very much in love. The two were always touching, kissing, slow dancing to music that wasn’t there. It was everything Bucky ever wanted. His mom, Winnie Barnes, came from money. Old money and his grandpa every rare time they saw him would be sure to make it known that he didn’t like their father. 

George Barnes had grown up pretty poor, very wrong side of the tracks. He’d fought in the War to End All Wars in the 107th, met Winnie Barnes when she was a nurse. Real classic story. One Bucky loved hearing. 

His Pops owned his own shop now, one of the only mechanics in Brooklyn which kept him pretty busy, but provided well for his family if their four bedroom brownstone was anything to say for it. Bucky parked the car outside the garage, men laughing, radio playing, he could see his Pops sitting in the back office, pencil behind his ear, looking over the books. 

“You gonna be good from here pal?” Bucky asked Steve. The smaller boy nodded, 

“Probably gonna walk around for a bit before going home.” Bucky wished Steve would take up his offer and come stay with them for a while, but the kid was too proud for that. He was currently living alone in a small apartment, selling funnies to the local paper. 

“If you need anything I’ll be here until seven probably, then I’ll be home.” Steve nodded, backing away.

“I’ll see ya tomorrow.” With a wave he was off, disappearing down the street. 

Bucky worked hard. As he was expected to. He was his father’s only son and George Barnes put a lot of pressure on his son to be a good example, not only for his sisters, but for the other guys that worked for him. He worked, and he worked hard. His hands had become calloused over the years, having worked in the shop since he was old enough to hold a wrench, he knew almost everything there was to know about fixing cars. 

His father believed that a good red blooded American man should know how to do three things. Auto work, Wood work, and wife’s work. He should be able to fix a car, fix the house, and keep his wife as happy as possible. It was ingrained into him since he could barely see over the hood, his father’s words ringing in his ears. 

“Keep your wife happy, the roof strong, and dinner on the table.” He said, “As long as you do those three things you’ll have a good life.” A life like his. Despite the hollowness of his eyes sometimes and the extra beers before bed. 

“It was the war”, his mother told him once, “Sometimes it just catches up to him.” Bucky wouldn’t understand that, not for a while. 

“Jaime.” His pops called him into the back office, a wrapped parcel on his desk. “Run this down to the post for me woulda? They sent us the wrong part, sendin’ it back for an exchange.” James nodded, 

“You need anythin’ else while I’m out?” His father’s eyes, blue like his, peeked up over the lenses of his readers, 

“Grab me a soda pop woulda?” A couple of cents placed into his hand and he was out the door, walking down the sunny streets to the post office three blocks away. There was a corner store next to it where he’d pop in and get his Dad a cola with enough change to grab himself one as well and he’d be on his way back. That was until his eyes landed on the girl peering into the store window in front of the said corner store, brows pulled tight in confusion. 

Her skin was beautifully caramel, dark hair and lips painted red. She was in a soft linen dress, buttoned front, low heels, roses stitched onto the sides. She was a sight. One that made his heart stop in his chest and his mouth drop open wide enough to collect flies. Her dark brown eyes and perfectly curled hair made his hands tremble. He rubbed his sweaty palms on his uniform pants, looking at himself in a car’s side mirror and fixing his hair before approaching. 

“Whatcha lookin’ for doll?” The young woman jumped, turning to face him, perfectly plucked brows raised in alarm. “Sorry,” He laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He saw the girl take a step back, he was blowing it. “It’s just not everyday that you see such a beautiful dame such as yourself.” You worried your bottom lip. “Sorry,” He took a step back from you. “That was corny I just…”

“Lo siento,” [I’m sorry] You said, “No puedo hablar ingles.” [I can’t speak english] His face dropped slightly and he took a step back. He didn’t know what to do here, he looked at the window and back at you. 

“James.” He said, pointing to himself, then pointing a finger at you, 

“Y/N.” You replied, figuring out what he meant. He pointed to the store. 

“Store?” You looked at him confused. “Uhm…” He put his hands on his hips and looked inside, holding a hand out to you and pointed at the sign of the shop, “Store?” You looked at him skeptically, taking his hand and letting him bring you inside. He’d walked to the ice box in the back, pulling out two cola’s as he watched you pick up a loaf of bread, looking at him nervously. He tried to smile at you reassuringly but you didn’t seem to feel comfortable still. He took the change out of his pocket, counting out the coins. He had just enough for his two cola’s, not room for much else as he walked you to the counter. If he’d had enough he woulda bought the bread too. 

The shop keep seemed to glare at you, which confused Bucky. He looked between the guy at the counter and back to you behind him, placing his two colas on the counter, having the guy ring him up. “Have a good day,” the man told him, Bucky watched as the girl placed the bread loaf on the counter. The man glared at her, not moving. “No sale.” He said. 

“What do you mean?” Bucky asked, you looked between the two nervously. “Here.” Bucky took the coins from her open palm, and tried to hand them to the shop keep. He glared back at Bucky. 

“We don’t take their money here.” He said sternly, pointing to the sign behind him. Bucky had been in this shop almost five times a week and never noticed that sign before. ‘WHITES ONLY’ in big bold lettering. Bucky looked back at you and while he figured you couldn’t understand english you at least could feel that you weren’t wanted here. Suddenly your nervousness made sense. 

“It’s my money then.” Bucky said, slapping the coins on the counter. “Let her buy the damn bread.” The shop keep stood from the stool he was resting on, leaning over the counter.

“Get out.” By the time Bucky realized he was talking to you and not him you’d quickly walked out of the store and back onto the street. He’d quickly grabbed the loaf of bread, coins still discarded on the counter and followed you out. 

“Wait! Y/N!” He called, catching up to you. “Here.” You looked at him, brows pulled skeptically together before taking the bread from his hands. “I’m sorry about that guy, he’s usually so nice I-” Bucky bit his lip, he was unsure what else to say. Nothing he said made any sense to you anyway. He couldn’t say anything regardless as you gave him a funny look and slowly walked away from him, turning your eyes away as you crossed the street. 

He stared after you longingly and confused. He’d heard people speak spanish in passing. Guys that worked in the factories near the docks. He wasn’t ignorant to that. He just never really gave much thought to them. They were in a different world than him, it didn’t matter as much. But you’d struck him. The way the shopkeep had treated you struck him. He’d never seen a pretty girl treated that way. Usually guys would bend over backwards for a girl like you, but to be fair, Bucky never had a reason to think about skin color. 

It’s not that he didn’t see it, he just never cared. He’d heard whispers of people being irritated at the growing hispanic population in Sunset Park, but never really gave it much thought. It never crossed his mind. He had other things to worry about at the time, a girl to love, a friend to protect. 

The sweating colas in his hands reminded him that he had somewhere to be, and you’d long since disappeared around a corner. Gone from his sight. He was quiet that night at dinner, suspiciously so.

He didn’t see you again for three months, the end of summer drawing near, the days just beginning to get shorter. He’d been walking around Sunset Park occasionally, looking for you, under the guise of a stroll. Steve thought it was strange, his newfound obsession. 

“I’m gonna marry her Stevie.” He’d said. He knows he’s said it before, 

“I mean it this time.” He said that before too. “But you didn’t see her Stevie.” He grinned as the pair walked around the neighborhood for the first time, “She was more beautiful than Aphrodite.” Steve rolled his eyes. He wasn’t sure how many times he’s walked this neighborhood looking for you, but he told himself he’d do it every night if it meant he’d find you again. 

School had ended, he was working full time at his Dad’s shop now, little time for extracurriculars, the dance halls missed him, his favorite waitress asked Steve about him all the time, and he hadn’t seen a movie since the last time he went with Dot almost 3 months ago. All of his energy had gone into working and on his days off with Steve, looking for you. He thumbed through the spanish phrasebook he’d spent a pretty penny on, pages dogeared with things he might try to say to you when he saw you next. 

If it ever happened. 

He was beginning to lose hope, truth be told. Maybe you’d moved away. Maybe you were in the neighborhood visiting someone and didn’t even live nearby. It wasn’t until he’d taken a street down in the factory district on his day off that he saw you again. 

You were just as beautiful as he’d remembered, hair pinned under a cap, lips painted red, you were wearing another linen dress, flowers stitched around the skirt and on the lapels. You were leaving a dress factory. That’s where you must’ve worked. He watched you twirl in your dress, laughing at something another woman had said to you. The gaggle of them speaking such quick Spanish that the few phrases he studied didn’t even make sense to him anymore. 

He swore his heart stopped in his chest when your eyes met his, a firm blush spreading across your cheeks. Bucky, the hopeless romantic that he is, would tell everyone that time stood still. There you were, he would say, his future wife. Pin Curled and sweet, dark lashes and rose petal lips waiting for your first kiss. Like you’d been made for him. He would say that in that moment the stars aligned and brought you to him. 

He was a sucker like that. 

Steve had stopped a few steps ahead of him, noticing that his friend wasn’t following, the group of girls you had been walking out with also stopped, looking between the two of you and giggling at the sight. One girl pushed you forward and you turned to glare at her saying something to her that Bucky couldn’t hear. He took one step forward and then another, thumbing through the pages of the book and swallowing heavily, hands sweating. He’d never been this nervous talking to a dame before, never. He raised the book to his eyesight, glancing at you before looking back down at the page, 

“Lo siento,” [I’m sorry] He said in just about the worst pronunciation you’d ever heard, the girls behind you giggled and you shushed them with a perfectly red lacquered hand, he smiled nervously continuing, “Eres tan hermosa,” [You are so beautiful] He flipped a couple more pages not being able to find what he wanted to say next when you gently grasped his wrist, smiling at him. 

“James.” His heart almost dropped out of his ass as you said his name for the first time, “Hello.” Very heavily accented and you bit your lip with insecurity. 

“Hi.” He breathed. He looked back down at his book, finding what he wanted to say next, “Te estaba buscando.” [I was looking for you.] His pronunciation was horrible and he knew it. But the thought was still there. 

“Uhm…” You looked at him nervously, the girls were sure to gossip about this later. This white man who was holding a Spanish phrase book telling you about how you were beautiful and he was looking for you. 

“Y/N!” Came a yell, Bucky watched an older woman approach, she looked so similar it had to be your mother, “Que haces con este hombre blanco?” [What are you doing with this white man?] The older woman gripped your arm, looking at the girls behind you, “Veta a casa.” [Go home.] She spat to the other girls, glaring back at Bucky as you looked at him apologetically. He caught a few words. He knew casa meant home, he also knew blanco meant white. But he was unsure about the rest. 

Steve stood awkwardly off to his side, a silent witness to this strange situation. “That’s her I’m guessing?” The little shit grinned next to him. Bucky turned to his friend, matching his grin. 

“Yeah.” His heart was still racing, “And now I know where she works.” He looked up at the tall factory building next to them. 

He looked around the flower shop, the various blooms staring back at him. He wasn’t sure what to get, what you would like. Roses were maybe too presumptuous and a little too expensive “Can I help you?” The older woman asked him. She was wearing an apron over her plaid dress, hands brown with dirt. Bucky smiled softly, 

“I’m a little lost here,” He admitted. The older woman smiled, 

“What’s she like?” He stuffed his hands in his pockets looking over the blooms. 

“Perfect?” He offered, laughing, “But beautiful, sweet…” His eyes scanned the arrangements around him, “I don’t have a whole lot to spare, but…” The older woman nodded, understanding. 

“You could always do a single stem,” The older woman plucked a beautiful red flower from an arrangement, “If she’s as sweet as you believe, she’d be more than happy with it.” A peony. Vibrant red. Like your lipstick.  

He waited outside the factory for you. Hair slicked down, he wore a tie, his work uniform stuffed in the backseat of his car. He hoped you wouldn’t notice that he smelled a little like motor oil under his cologne. He barely made it before the door opened and his palms immediately sweat in a Pavlovian response. The anticipation of seeing you. 

Your dress was yellow this time. Stunning against you skin, yellow and white plaid. He wondered if every color was made just for you. Your eyes immediately met his this time, a shy smile spreading across your face. He timidly stepped a foot closer, 

“Hello, James.” In your beautiful broken English. 

“Hola.” Your nose crinkled when you smiled. “Oh, here.” The vibrant red peony being handed over to you, you twirled the stem between your fingers as he pulled the well worn book from his pocket. “Uhm.. Te ves hermosa hoy.” [You look beautiful today] He looked at you for your response, a red dusting on your cheeks as you held the flower up to your nose. 

“Es guapo.” [He’s handsome.] One of the girls teased you to which your eyes widened and you turned to glare at her, shooing her away. 

“Has estado practicando?” [Have you been practicing?] You bit your lip knowing he probably wouldn’t understand that. “How,” You started, “are you?” He grinned, he could respond to this one. Flipping back,

“Muy bien, como estas?” [Very well, how are you?] It took him a bit too long to say four words, but the smile on your face was worth it. 

“Bien,” [Good.] You replied. 

“Away!” You mother was back, standing in front of you this time, looking into Bucky’s face. His cheeks flushed. “Go away!” Your mother’s english was worse than yours, the words coming out thick and accented he almost didn’t understand. “Mantente alejado de ella.”[Stay away from her] She was scary, your mother. He looked to you for help, fingers nervously moving against the spine of the book in his hand. 

“El es una madre inofensiva.” [Mama, he’s harmless.] You explained, but your mother’s face turned red, turning fully to you she said, 

“Él te arruinárá.” [He will ruin you.] Her voice was tense and Bucky couldn’t begin to understand what she said as he watched her drag you away again. But it was fine, he was back tomorrow to try again. 

And he tried again, and again. It became a constant. He was spending $1.30 every week on flowers, considering he was only making $25 a week working for his Dad it was a good chunk of his money. He’d show up with a red peony for you every day. The girls, he knew, were making fun of him but the five minutes in between when you’d get off of work and when your mother would get off of work were the best part of his entire day. He was showing up even on his days off, rain or shine. 

Today he felt victorious, your mother hadn’t yelled at him. She simply looked at him and raised an eyebrow to you saying, “El no se rinde.” [He doesn’t give up.] With a smile and laugh. She pulled you away a little more gently that time, taking a look back at him and shaking her head. 

“You know it’s going to be hard,” Steve said to him once. 

“What do you mean?” Bucky bit into the burger Frankie, the waitress, had just put in front of him. His favorite burger at his favorite diner, he’d have to bring you here. Maybe the two of you could split a milkshake. He wondered if you’d ever had a chocolate malt. Steve looked at him incredulously,

“I can’t tell if you’re dumb or blind.” He’d slipped a picture from his sketchpad over, a picture he’d sketched of you for Bucky. His heart fluttered at the sight, tracing your jaw. 

“She’s it for me pal, nothing complicated about it.” The temperature had just begun to drop, a hot August ending. Fall was sweeping through the city, Steve was just starting art school, Bucky was pulling overtime at the shop saving up cash to move out and start his life. Hopefully with you. 

“Buck.” Steve sighed, “You know I have no problem with it, but…your parents, literally almost everyone else… it’s illegal.” Bucky paused, a few fries in his mouth. 

“It’s not technically illegal in New York.” He knows, he looked it up. “Just not…”

“Not approved of.” Steve finished for him. He sighed heavily, sitting back in his seat. “It’s gonna be difficult, pal.” Bucky shook his head, 

“Nuthin’ could be difficult when I have her,” A sip of soda, “Nuthin.”

The next day when Bucky showed up with his flower your Mother was already waiting for him when he pulled his car up. He finally got the windows working. She knocked heavily on his window before he’d even pulled the keys out. 

“Come.” She said, grabbing his arm and pulling him over to a man, a scary one by Bucky’s count, who was standing where he’d usually wait for you. “Preguntarle.” [Ask him.]

The man was hispanic, but not old enough to be your father. Your brother maybe? “She wants to know what you keep doing here.” The guy’s English was perfect, his voice gruff and accented, but perfect. 

“I’m…” Bucky started nervously, “I want to date her daughter.” The guy scoffed, making Bucky feel like an idiot standing there with his one flower. 

“Él quiere llevarla a una cita.” [He wants to take her out on a date] The older woman scoffed as well. He smiled sheepishly. She looked at Bucky, studying him for a moment, “Dile que Y/N no es un juguete.” [Tell him Y/N is not a toy.]

“She’s not a toy,” The man said, he looked at the older woman before continuing on his own, “Look, Y/N is beautiful, don’t get me wrong, but it’s never going to happen. Your kind is not allowed with our kind.” Bucky felt anger rising in his chest. The man lay a hand on his shoulder heavily, “I’m saying this honestly, if you care about Y/N in any way you’ll back off. You’ll ruin her reputation with our people if you keep showing up here. The women are already gossiping about you showing up here everyday.” 

“This is about her being Spanish?” Bucky asked. 

“She’s Cuban.” The guy explained, “You are privileged enough to pretend not to care about race, but this is only an obsession, you’ll ruin her reputation and leave her when you find someone of your own kind to be with.” The man’s grip on Bucky’s shoulder tightened, a warning. “Get back in your car and don’t come back. If you do, our conversation may not be so pleasant next time.” 

Bucky looked to the older woman with pleading eyes, pulling the Spanish phrases book from his pocket, but before he could find anything the man across from him snatched it from his fingertips. “I said go.” 

Bucky wanted to pummel him. He wanted to punch the guy right in the jaw, but he didn’t. He’d find another way to see you. He’d figure something out. The flower in his hand dropped to his passenger seat as he sat heavily behind the wheel, staring out at the doors to the factory. You walked out just in time to see him drive away. 

Nueva York. That’s what your Mother called it. A new start in America where anything could happen. Your belly had never been that full before. There were no jobs in Havana. Less and less by the day. Your nimble fingers had always been useful as a seamstress, but the less money people have, the less money they had to spend paying someone else to fix their hemlines for them. Your Mother and you moved here in the beginning of the summer, hopeful for a new life.

And you found one. 

The neighborhood of Sunset Park had a growing Hispanic community the two of you had quickly nestled yourselves in. A small one bedroom apartment became your home. The two of you not needing much space. You’d quickly found factory work through a neighbor. Not exactly a seamstress, but you did spend 12 hours a day hunched over a sewing machine. Pennies saved and eventually you’d have enough money to live comfortably. You might even have enough to get a new bolt of fabric to make you and your Mother some dresses. Maybe. 

The only thing you had to look forward to every day were the few minutes watching a handsome man trip over his words, speaking broken Spanish to you and flipping, very endearingly through a book trying to have a conversation. 

It’d gotten a little easier lately, a boy in your apartment building helping you and your Mother learn English and with James practicing his Spanish you’d been getting a little farther past ‘how are you’s in the past week or so. The growing collection of dried flowers in your closet was becoming alarming, the row of dead peonies hanging by their stems, but you didn’t have the heart to throw them away. 

That’s maybe why it hurt so much when you’d exited work today, waiting to see the blue eyed boy that made your heart flutter in your chest, and saw him driving away. Your Mother and Mateo staring at the back of it. “Qué hiciste?” [What did you do?] Neither of them answered you, sharing a look. 

Your eyes met the back of the fading car once more, longing in your chest, eyes prickling with tears. “Vamos,” [Come on] Your Mother called, beginning down the street. You sent a steely glare to Mateo, turning to follow her away, his large footsteps following. 

When you first came to America almost five months ago both you and your Mother were enamored with Mateo. She’d teased that you’d found a husband the first day you’d moved in, but the more time you spent with him the less you liked him. He worked a taxi service, one his family started. They had a good amount of money, promising, is what your Mother had said. He could provide for you. But he was pompous. He thought because he had a little bit of money he was running the whole block. His ego soured your opinion of him. If it wasn’t for the fact he was helping you learn English you would have closed your door to him a long time ago. 

Your Mother didn’t want this life for you. Truthfully she’d brought you to America so you’d marry, find a nice Cuban boy and settle down. Let him provide for you. Take care of her grandchildren God willing. It wasn’t as though you didn’t want that life. You wanted to marry, you wanted love. You loved children and always wanted to be a mother but the most important thing to you was love. 

When James approached you that first time you were confused, yes. You hadn’t understood a word he said. But he was handsome and he made you feel butterflies in your stomach. You felt as though his blue eyes could drown you, like a siren’s call, you’d lost yourself in them. But you’d found yourself embarrassed at the counter when the man was angrily talking to him. James was animatedly arguing back, in words you didn’t understand. Taking the eight cents you’d had for bread and slamming them on the counter. 

You’d been surprised when he’d actually left successfully with the bread, you had been peering for the sign the shopkeeper had pointed to before he’d actually drug you in the store, and your stomach dropped when you’d found it while inside. You should have known you weren’t welcome in that part of town. A little too far outside of your little barrio. 

You’d like to think it was fate, God ordained. You’d thought about it again when you saw him outside the factory for the first time. He was nervous, but so were you. You thought it was cute, him flipping through the phrasebook trying to figure out what to say. It warms your heart and every day since you couldn’t wait to see him. He’d even ignored your Mother and kept coming. The collection of red peonies growing by the day. 

It broke your heart to see his car driving away from you. And you knew exactly who was to blame. 

“No tenes derecho.” [You have no right] You stomped up the stairs next to Mateo. “Deberías mantener tu nariz fuera de oso.” [You should keep your nose out of it]

“Te quiero, Y/N.” [I love you Y/N] His arm gently grabbed your hand, “Please don’t do this.” Your jaw clenched, heart still aching from the sight of James driving away from you. 

“I... hate... you.” His hand let go of yours, dropping his to his side as you returned walking up the stairs and entered your apartment, slamming the door behind you. 

Germany had just invaded Poland.

.

.

.

taglist //  @corneliabarnes​ @bookish-shristi​ @saturnki​ @jennmurawski13​ @geeksareunique​ @albinotigerpython​ @cake-writes​ @iheartsebastianstan​ @000bananaclip000​

[daddysfavouriteboytoy]

Ruben Winter Rothchester

Name: Ruben Winter Rothchester Nickname: Ruby, Winnie, Bunny (by his older brother) Age: 22 Nationality: American/Irish Sexuality: closet Homosexual Gender: Male Birthday: 29th of July Species: Human Appearance: (Face claim: Finn Wittrock)

Clothing: Ruben is one of those guys who likes when people can already tell that he’s a rich and a well-mannered gentleman by his clothes, therefore he loves wearing warm-coloured, preppy outfits and is only rarely seen in anything else.  Height: 1,79 m Weight: 66,3 kg Piercings: tongue piercing venom, right collar bone, right ear, left ear Tattoos: on his left inner thigh, behind his left ear, on his right wrist Personality: Because Ruben is extremely organised as well as hardworking, he has some natural leadership skills. That's why he often finds himself in a dominant position because he won't compromise or do things for others without a reward. Ruben is also loyal, patient and reliable, whenever he says, he’ll do something, he keeps his words. To the dismay of others, he is very often dispassionate, blunt, cynical as well as independent. Ruben definitely isn't a pushover and can't be taken advantage of. Simultaneously, due to his financial upbringing, he is used to being spoiled and getting pretty much everything he wants which results in him being quite arrogant and snobbish at times, even going so far as to look down on certain people. Also, he values facts over feelings and has an ability to detach himself and act emotionless most of the time. He does not concern himself with the needs of others and doesn't care what they think. At the same time, Ruben will sometimes provoke others just to get a reaction. If he takes a huge interest in a certain person’s behaviour, he can also be a bit of a bully, focusing greatly on teasing them in all possible ways, even flirting if he gets a satisfying reaction. Nevertheless, apart from his bratty and spoiled behaviour, Ruben can be stable and content, however, should anyone manage to anger him to the point of him not being able to keep his rage under control anymore, he can get pretty aggressive, even physically hurting others. The few people who seem to escape his terrible behaviour towards others are his close friends and parents, the only ones who get to see Ruben’s polite and even friendly and helpful side. Likes: teasing/annoying others, small furry animals especially bunnies, being rich, books about weird or creepy things, going out with friends, people accepting him for who he is, tidiness, turning straight guys gay, photography, plants, classical music as well as punk rock, breakfast in bed Dislikes: his family, unfamiliar situations, being compared to his brother, clingy ex-partners, being told what to do, therapy, drugs, having to attend fancy parties or family gatherings, people lacking basic hygiene, being proven wrong, having to hide his sexuality from his parents, fake friends Hobbies: tennis, lacrosse, swimming, playing the piano, judo, karate, collecting books about myths/urban legends/strange creatures/unknown fairy-tales, photography, urban exploring Relationships: Diana Haraya Rothchester – mother; 50 years old; CEO; married Orson Hunton-Blather – father; 47 years old; politician; married Terence Hunton-Blather – older brother; 28 years old; marketing manager; engaged; lives in China Pai Yao Niang – future sister-in-law; 26 years old; mathematician; engaged; lives in China Jackson “Jack” Lawson – fake girlfriend/best friend; 21 years old; college student; fake dating Ruben Occupation: College Student  Position: Switch - likes to fight for dominance but doesn’t mind losing Turn-ons: being rough, BDSM, putting him in his place, scratching, hickeys, multiple rounds, threesomes, roleplaying, pet names/degrading nicknames, risky places Turn-offs: golden showers, blood, knife play, cock rings, orgasm denial, degrading nicknames outside of the bedroom, strong cologne, being teased for too long, being interrupted Other:

is allergic to horses and latex

can cut onions without crying

is surprisingly talented at cooking for a spoiled rich boy

owns three pet bunnies named Sunny, Pearl and Starr

has a fake girlfriend

Backstory: Ruben was not a planned child, which definitely showed in the way his parents treat him. Already during his first year of living, he was raised by maids, nannies and all the other people his parents paid to take care of him, so they didn’t need to. Growing up like this and not knowing any better, Ruben thought this was a normal life and actually enjoyed all the attention and gifts he got to keep his attention off his biological parents. During his childhood, the rest of his family was also rarely home, his parents always travelled around the world while his brother was occupied by his studies and hobbies. It even went so far that Ruben didn’t even know he had an older brother the first few years of his life.Only when the boy got older his parents slowly stood home for longer periods of time. During those years, Ruben started school and his parents paid private tutors to teach him just the same things as his brother, meaning how to play the piano, how to dance and a lot more things. Unfortunately, their youngest son wasn’t really into creative hobbies nor very good in school. Quickly, the two parents began to get annoyed with their child and started to complain about why he couldn’t be as talented as his older brother who seemed to be flawless at everything he did. At first, the blonde spent a lot of time trying to live up to his parents’ expectations and get even better grades than his brother. To his dismay, however, neither of them acknowledged the changing behaviour of their second son. This way, Ruben spent all of his elementary and middle school years, trying to somehow get the attention and approval of his parents by being the perfect son. Only when the blonde eventually started with high school, he realized that it was an impossible task. Therefore, he decided to just accept it and ignore his parents just like they ignored him. Ruben joined a few sports clubs and nearly always met with friends after school if he had time to spend as little time as possible at home.Due to his friends not always having time to hand out when school ended, the rich boy started to just meet with people he met online, even though he never saw them in real life before. Thus, someday he started to befriend the wrong kind of people. One of his internet friends introduced him to his gang, all of those guys were already a few years older and taught Ruben to smoke, fight and drink. The young boy’s behaviour changed drastically once again and he started to get more than just a bit rebellious. From time to time, he started fights on the school grounds, for this reason, teachers often had to call his parents because their son got once again caught physically hurting another student. Normally this only resulted in Ruben’s parents scolding him, but nothing more ever happened therefore the teenager never really thought about changing his ways because at least his producers knew he existed for once. During those rebellious years, Ruben also found out he was homosexual and began dating his first boyfriend. Unfortunately, his parents who were very religious people found out somehow and all hell broke loose. While his mother cried and asked what they just did wrong, his father screamed at him like his son committed some kind of horrific crime or slaughtered someone. Not even when he got remarkably violent once and broke someone’s arm, the two of them were as furious as right now. Although the two adults wanted to kick him out at first, his mother decided against it and proposed to try and save his broken soul by getting him some kind of therapy. His father agreed and not even two days later Ruben sat in a plain white room, in front of some old guy who looked like a paedophile. Already after the first sentence of this odd man, the blonde hated him already. He knew neither his sexuality nor his actions were wrong. Unfortunately, his parents’ thoughts seemed to differ, because they always dragged him to this strange, old man in hopes of him saving their offspring's soul. The only good thing those therapy sessions had, Ruben met his best friend Jackson there. Her parents seemed to be just as idiotic as his own thus the two of them developed a plan shortly after befriending each other, they started fake dating to get out of this shitty situation. Luckily, it worked out for both of them. However, the traumatic experiences of these events left their scars on Ruben. To not ever attract any unwanted attention from his parents anymore, he once again had a chance of character which lasts till this day on, just like his friendship with Jackson.

Starter

[aion-rsa]

An Evolution of Dragon Stories: Dragonslayer by Duncan M. Hamilton

https://ift.tt/2YvaidS

We look at how Dragonslayer by Duncan M Hamilton fits into the long-running fantasy subgenre involving dragons.

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When Guillot is tasked with slaying the last of the dragons in Duncan M. Hamilton's Dragonslayer, the first in a planned fantasy trilogy, the character is way past his prime. All bets should be on the dragon, but a semblance of that knightly duty remains—even though Guillot struggles with alcoholism and is actively thwarted by someone high in power, there's tension in the narrative. Could Guillot actually win?

read more: Ruin of Kings is Must-Read Epic Fantasy

Knights and dragons -- it’s a tale as old as fiction and mythology. The traditional sort of dragon—winged, fire breathing—was popularized in the Middle Ages, the most famous story being St. George slaying the dragon. That story was immortalized in a Raphael painting, circa 1506, titled "Saint George and the Dragon," that now resides in the National Gallery of Art in Washington DC.

Dragons have been an enduring story and iconography throughout history. You’re hard pressed to find a culture without a dragon or dragon-like entity. Ancient China, Sumeria, Nepal, Tibet... even the Aztec had a dragon-like creature woven into their iconography. A fantastical creature possibly derived from a combination of imagination and seeing real creatures like crocodiles, or in some cases finding fossilized dinosaur bones, the dragon is something as universal as the act of telling stories.

Dragons were thought of as creatures to be overcome by the most gallant and saintly, and thus you can hardly see a story involving a knight without a scaly, fire-spouting foe. Even though the book The Story of King Arthur and His Knights, published in 1903, didn’t contain any dragons, the many variations on that tale since have often incorporated the creature as something for King Arthur’s knights to surmount. By the time we get to the BBC’s Merlin, the wise yet destructive dragon was such an important part of the narrative, he was voiced by none other than British acting icon John Hurt.

read more: Adventure Zone Returns With Murder on the Rockport Limited!

We’ve seen the image of the dragon take a decidedly friendlier turn. Perhaps the beginnings of this could be seen in Anne McCaffrey’s Dragonriders of Pern series published in 1967. There, the series was science fiction instead of the usual fantasy, because the dragons were genetically engineered. It made McCaffrey the first women to win a Hugo Award, and spawned a rich fandom in which fans "play" Pern, creating original characters to inhabit the fictional world.

In movies, we’ve seen Pete the Dragon (1977 and 2016) and Dragonheart (1996), both unabashed family romps that basically give the character a magical best friend. The Inheritance Cycle, a book series by Christopher Paolini, also played on the dragon-riding fun, and was eventually made into a lackluster movie.

Not all dragons had to be series either. Ever read Myth Adventures by Robert Asprin, published from 1978 to 2002? Because you should. The main character has a pet dragon called Gleep who only says the word “gleep.”

History is cyclical. What’s old becomes new again. As you might have noticed, dragons have returned to popular fiction in recent years as their fearsome selves—most notably the Cumber-beast Smaug in The Hobbit, Daenerys’s besties in Game of Thrones (both adaptations of books published in 1937 and 1996, respectively.)

read more: The Fork, the Witch, and the Worm — Checking in on Christopher Paolini's Eragon

The kids get How to Train Your Dragon’s Toothless. The grown ups with an HBO Go password get what happens if you don’t train your dragon to be a big puppy. The shift from monster to friend to monster again—it’s paralleled in fiction's exploration of other fantastical creatures, like vampires, werewolves, etc. (I have yet to hear of any angsty sparkling dragons and, if there are some, feel free not to share them. Some things are meant to be slain.)

We’ve had fantastic stories told that resonate with an audience long after the last pages or last episodes have aired. You still hear shows like The Sopranos and Breaking Bad mentioned -- these shows broke down the usual expectations about gangsters and drug dealers and created quality entertainment. We’re seeing that in our fantasy and science fiction, too. A classic foe—the dragon—can return to fiction and represent an audience’s need for more than just a good guy fighting a bad monster.

Reinvention has kept old stories and concepts fresh. Take for example, the bold brash action in the Amazon Prime series The Boys. Gone are the usual tenets of a hero’s compulsion to seek justice. Instead we get a super violent, ugly view of a corporatized hero system designed to sell movies and stuff and pander to the American dream while sweeping accidental and wrongful deaths under the rug.

When speaking to Den of Geek about his creative process, author Duncan M. Hamilton explained: “For the dragons, I leaned toward real myths and legends as a starting point, then embellished to my own taste as I went.” That embellishment created more than just a monster of legend, but a being with a rich inner life that allowed the reader to take a peek inside his head for a few chapters.

read more: Contemporary Fantasy Meets Noir in Magic For Liars

In many ways, Dragonslayer represents a return to the classic story of a gallant knight riding into battle against a fire-breathing beast. What it does well is the fact that our hero is hardly suited for the task anymore, and that our dragon is even questioning his own motives. In Dragonslayer, chapters take turns seeing from Guillot the knight’s point of view, the sorceress he befriends, his human adversary, and the dragon himself. From each character’s perspective, we see their wants and needs, their motivations and the dangers they face. We empathize, even, when faced with the adversaries of the hero. Even when that adversary is a great scaly beast.

Hamilton told us: “I think being able to empathize with the dragon makes for a far more compelling story.” It does. Looking at the dragon in a new light also helps illuminate how special our protagonist is. Guillot is not a knight in shining armor. He was, once, but he’s let himself go. He’s almost reprehensible, wasting away his days as a drunkard and a nuisance to his town, languishing in his bad memories.

Guillot often bemoans his ineptitude in the beginning, even feeling guilty when the sorceress thanks him for rescuing her from certain death: “The praise made Gill feel uncomfortable. He was a drunk who had pissed his life away because things hadn’t gone his way. He thought about admitting that he had still been drunk when he’d rescued her, but couldn’t bring himself to say it.”

But when the call to action comes, he answers, even if he begrudges being out of shape and out of practice. In this way, Guillot is more like the reader than many heroes in classic fantasy stories. Once a skilled swordsman, he’s woefully out of practice, and rides forth believing full well that this could be his end.

read more: K.A. Doore on The Perfect Assassin

Add to this the search for a relic that may be even more important than anyone realizes. This relic ends up having a deep significance to Guillot, something that he and his allies won’t realize right away until the pieces start falling together with each new discovery. And who happens to have that relic in their claws? I think you might see how this all ties together... 

Alliances are made, promises broken, secret histories revealed—and it all revolves around the discovery of a dragon waking up from a long snooze. 

Taking something old and making it new again—it’s a way to show familiar ideas but make them fresh. It’s an opportunity to explore new territory. Hamilton certainly accomplishes this in Dragonslayer.

Bridget LaMonica is a contributor at Den of Geek. Read more of her work here or follow her on Twitter @BridgetLaMonica.

Read and download the Den of Geek SDCC 2019 Special Edition Magazine right here!

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Feature Bridget LaMonica

Jul 31, 2019

Tor Books

Fantasy Books

from Books https://ift.tt/2MtKGM8

[jeontaeh]

〚TEN〛

Visiting day was always the worst.

It was the one day Jungkook dreaded, because it meant his parents would come all the way to his school to meet him. He doesn't know why, it's not like they gave him any attention back at home.

Jungkook was quite neglected as a child. His parents, both rich and running a million dollar company, were quite busy with work. He was taken care of by numerous nannies. But being alone was something he got used to at home. Once middle school was over, his parents sent him over to boarding school- making up some shit excuse about 'teaching him how to be independent'. He already knew how to be independent.

To be abrupt, Jungkook was rich. In the social elite. His parents gave to many charities and said a bunch of bullshit to get more people buying their stuff. Truth was, they didn't care about any of that. His mother only cared about fancy clothes and how people see them, and his father only cared about money.

So here he was, 10 am on a Sunday morning, in the cafetaria. Tables were filled with students and their parents, talking rapidly. Jungkook could see Jimin on the side, laughing airily while talking to his mother, who had warm eyes.

"Your parents not here yet?" A deep voice broke his chain of thoughts, and Jungkook turned to the side and saw V walk up to him, wearing a grey jacket with the hood on and black track pants. Dressed quite casually than the other kids, who all dressed up neatly to see their parents.

"Yeah. Tell me if you see an overly dressed woman and a man who looks like he doesn't give a shit about his son, 'cause that'll be my parents." Jungkook said, and V snickered, leaning against the wall beside him.

"Where are your parents?" Jungkook asked, and V took a sip of the orange juice in his cup.

"Eh. They don't come to these things." V said, and then looked at Jungkook, who hummed, not questioning further.

"By the way- um- y'know the test we had on Thursday? Well I got it back, and I got a B+." V said with a smile, and Jungkook gasped, standing up straight.

"Really? Oh my gosh- V, that's so great!" Jungkook said softly, and then reached forward, but then realised V said not to touch him in public, so instead he resorted to patting V's shoulder. "Good job."

"It's all thanks to you, mr. A star student." V said with a small grin, and Jungkook laughed at that.

"Well, thanks to you, mr. Star athlete, I'm not that shitty at football anymore." Jungkook said, giving him a coy smile and poking his chest lightly.

Jungkook turned around with a spin, and then let out a grunt when he saw his parents enter the cafeteria from the other side. "I've gotta go. See you later?" Jungkook said to V, who nodded with a knowing look.

Jungkook rushed towards his parents. His mother, who was in a fur coat and big glasses and a high bun, and his father, who was in a dark trench coat and jeans and some fancy belt. Did they really have to dress like that to a school?

Jungkook waved at them, and then saw his mother smile and walk up to them, his father following behind her. "Oh, Jungkookie! Look at you- my handsome son." She said, walking up to him and hugging him tightly.

"Hi mom." Jungkook said, and she pulled away from the hug. They found a table and sat down on it, and Jungkook looked at them with a small smile on his face. The least he could do is try.

"How's the company?" Jungkook asked.

"Good. We're flying to New York tomorrow night for a meeting with an American company. It's great. You'll honestly love working there. Y'know, once you get out of school and do business in University." His mother said with a warm smile, squeezing his hand.

Jungkook chuckled nervously. "Would you want me working for your company, though? Can't really do much-"

"Yes. No question about it. Hopefully you'll get married by the time you're 25 to a nice girl, preferably one from a nice business family." The father said, and Jungkook's breath hitched.

"Right. Um- anyways. School's going well. I got an A in all my subjects-"

"Just an A? You couldn't get an A+?" His father snapped, and Jungkook looked at him uncertainably.

"I-I did. In Biology and-and Chemistry. I think I got one in maths too-"

"Think?" His father cut him off, and Jungkook looked down, fiddling with his fingers on his lap. "Well, I-I did some extra credit to get my grade up from A-"

There was a silence, with his father taking out his phone to check it for a moment. Jungkook turned to look at his mom. "Um- my art teacher put one of my artwork's in this exhibition she was holding. And- many people saw it and said it was really good, and it might go on the newspaper-"

"Don't waste too much time on all that, Jungkook. Spend more time on polishing your subjects that will actually be important." Jungkook's father said sternly, and Jungkook's face fell a little.

"Yeah.. um- I-I actually really like doing art. I mean, of course I focus on my other studies too! But, my teacher also said I-I'm really good at it. And she said if I do it in the future as a career-"

"Art as a career? Have you lost your mind?" Mr. Jeon snapped, and Jungkook tensed. "Since when did you get so caught up in all this art stuff? Snap out of it and focus on what's important. Like football. I hope you haven't dropped that for all these girly things."

Jungkook was frozen for a while, and Jungkook's mother sighed. "Sweetheart- Jungkook's always been interested in arts. Ever since he was a kid.. but, anyways. Kookie, show us your dorm room! We've never seen it."

Jungkook nodded faintly, getting up, head held heavy. He walked out of the cafeteria along with his parents. They began discussing some business related thing which Jungkook didn't care about as they walked up the steps to go to the dorm rooms.

All he could think about was how his parents were so goddamn annoying and literally didn't care about his wellbeing. They didn't know anything about him.

He could feel himself getting angrier as he kept walking. How can they call themselves his parents when the only parental thing they've done is fund his education? Maybe they should know. They should know what happens when you ignore your child and force him into things he doesn't want to do.

Jungkook was angry. And with anger, comes strange impulses. A spontaneity. A spur, something that fizzed in his brain and made him compulsive. Doing something without thinking. He was sooo angry.

For walking down the hallway, he saw V walk out of his dorm, and there wasn't anyone else on the floor except his parents, V, and him. So Jungkook did it. He acted dumb.

"Mom, dad," Jungkook started, and then reached forward and grabbed V's arm. "I want you guys to meet someone."

V looked a little confused, wondering why Jungkook was introducing him, of all people. Jungkook's mother smiled. "Oh, hello. You must be Jimin."

"No mom. This is V. He's the captain of the football team." Jungkook said with a nod, and his father suddenly nodded with a classic business smile. "Ah. Glad to know Jungkook's making good friends."

V smiled awkwardly, not knowing how else to react. Jungkook suddenly linked his hands around V's arm. "No dad. V's not my friend." Jungkook said, and then he gave V a small smile, and then looked at his parents, eyes glinting. "He's my boyfriend."

His mother gasped. His father froze. And V just choked on his spit.

"He's your what?!" Jungkook's father snapped, and Jungkook blinked at them in innocent confusion, smiling while tilting his head.

"My boyfriend. Aren't you, babe?" Jungkook asked softly, and V felt a jab to his side, and nodded hurriedly. "Yes- y-yes I am that." V mumbled, and Jungkook gave him a look and then smiled at his parents.

"What- what is this? Are you joking?" Jungkook's father snapped, and Jungkook shook his head.

"Sweetie I'm sure this is just one of those teenage phases you're going through. You're just friends, nothing more, I'm sure!" Jungkook's mother tried, and Jungkook smiled.

"It's not, mom." They blinked at him in confusion. Jungkook smiled harder. "I'm gay."

His mother spluttered out a gasp, and his father still stood there shocked. V widened his eyes at that one too, but then gulped, pretending this was information he already knew.

"You're what?!" Mr. Jeon snapped once again, and Jungkook sighed.

"I'm gay. I like men. I'm never going to marry a business family girl." Jungkook said with a fake sadness. "You know what!" Jungkook gasped, eyes growing big. "Maybe, instead- I can marry a rich CEO! Wouldn't that just be so beneficial, father?"

V sealed his lips, trying not to laugh. Jungkook turned to the side and kissed his cheek. "Oh, but don't worry. I'm still focusing on my studies. In fact, V's helped me improve so much in football. We practice every day! Don't we?" Jungkook asked, nudging V really hard again.

"Yup. We do." V choked out, and Jungkook smiled. "Y'know what they say. Any hole, is a goal-"

"Jungkook this can't happen- you know you can't do this." Mr. Jeon growled lowly, and V gulped, but Jungkook giggled. Giggled. It was like he was drunk. Drunk off this high he was feeling. He felt like he had metaphorical big tits, like he could rule the world.

"You're right. It would be a shame if I was gay." Jungkook said, and then let go of V. But then, he looked up. "It would be a bigger shame if I were to, y'know, release a statement online about how you two are homophobic. Especially when one of your biggest clients is gay herself. I'm sure she'd love to drop you guys as a company when she finds out you're homophobic. It'll only lose you.. what, a million dollars?" Jungkook said, innocently tilting his head.

V smirked to himself, and coughed into his hand in an attempt to hide it. "Good god, this is enough. I'm going to pass out! C'mon dear, let's go. W-we'll see you some other time.. Jungkook." Mrs. Jeon said, and then turned around and stormed right down the hallway, and left.

There was a silence, and V looked around, thankful that no one saw them. He cleared his throat, hands in his pockets. "Any hole.. is a goal?"

But Jungkook looked nervous, gulped. "C-can we please go into y-your room?" Jungkook said in a small voice, and V nodded, and the two quickly walked towards V's room. V opened his door and walked in, and once they were secluded, Jungkook grabbed his shirt.

He pressed their lips together, and V just grabbed his hips, trying to slow him down. Jungkook was messy with the kiss, breathing into it, clearly not in the right state. Jungkook pushed V until he sat onto the bed, and climbed on his lap, straddling him.

V pulled away and looked at Jungkook in confusion, pulling his hands down. "Jungkook slow down," V said sternly, and Jungkook looked at him for a few seconds, and then burst into tears.

V's eyes turned big, and Jungkook continued crying, reaching his hands to his face. V circled his arms around Jungkook's waist.

"Oh baby, what's wrong?" V said softly, and somehow that got Jungkook to cry harder.

"I-I'm s-s-so stupid, t-talking non-nonsense- forced y-you to act a-as my boy-boyfriend-" Jungkook sniffled, and V reached his hands under Jungkook's sweater, massaging his waist softly. "I'm sorry." Jungkook let out, trying to stop his crying.

"It's okay. Let it out, let it all out. You can cry." V whispered, and Jungkook felt fat tears roll down his red cheeks. "There you are." V talked low, and Jungkook sniffled, gripping onto V's shoulders with his fingers.

"I j-just.. wanted my parents to know t-that they know nothing about me. B-but I shouldn't have told them like this.. I-I shouldn't have dragged you into it." Jungkook said, and V kissed his cheek.

"It's okay. I don't mind. I just... I-I didn't know you were gay." V said softly, and Jungkook's breath hitched. "Like.. you told me you were into girls too."

Jungkook nodded, looking down. "I.. um.. I thought you would react badly. I-I knew I was gay.. just didn't want people finding out. You know how everyone is." Jungkook said, and V pursed his lips.

"Yeah, I get it. I mean, that's completely fine with me. I don't care if you're gay or- or whatever." V said, and Jungkook looked at him. "I mean I'm straight! 101%.. but still. It's cool that you're gay." V said quickly, and Jungkook let out a small smile.

"Thanks." Jungkook squeaked, and V looked up at him. "God, you're pretty." V let out, and Jungkook froze.

He felt a deep blush set into his cheeks. "So soft and-and pretty. And you like being called baby, don't you?" V said, and Jungkook blushed harder and nodded, tugging on his bottom lip.

"Hm? Baby likes it?" V smirked, and Jungkook whacked him on the shoulder. "Shut up." Jungkook squeaked out, and then cleared his throat.

"Do you mind sucking me off right now?" V asked, and Jungkook hesitated.

"Um.. k-kind of. I'm not really in the mood right now. Sorry. I'll-I'll leave you alone." Jungkook said quickly, getting up from his lap.

V grabbed his arm and pulled him down onto his lap. "It's fine, dumbass. Let's play videogames." V said, and Jungkook snickered.

"Sure thing, dude." Jungkook said, and V looked at him.

"Dude. Really? I called you baby, and I get dude in return?" V scoffed, and Jungkook laughed.

"Why, do you want a nickname too... babygirl?" Jungkook whispered, wiggling his eyebrows, and then giggled when V let out a fake puke noise.

"No thanks. How about... daddy?"

Jungkook made the fake puking noise this time, and V whacked his arm. Jungkook started laughing hard, practically falling to the floor. "F-fuck- did you really just say daddy-"

"I'm kidding!" V snapped, and Jungkook continued laughing hard, clutching his stomach. "I'm sorry- I just-" Jungkook tried, but then began wheezing.

"Bro it's a joke. I don't want that shit coming from your mouth. Plus, girls call me daddy all the time. It's cool." V said, grabbing a controller.

Jungkook wiped the tear from his eyes, sighing. "Sure thing, father." Jungkook said, and V smacked his thigh. "That's weird!" V snapped.

"Papa?"

"I hate you."

"What do you want me to call you? Your name consists of one syllable, it's kind of annoying." Jungkook said, and V looked at him, and smirked a little.

"Well I guess you're not finding out what my name is, then. keeps the mysterious charm." V said, and Jungkook grabbed a controller as well, sitting on the bed with his back against the wall, facing the tv, squished right beside V.

"Okay.. fine. I'll find out someday, V." Jungkook said, and saw V put on some game, humming.

Jungkook turned to the side, taking a second to look at V, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Thanks." He said quickly, and then V smacked his thigh lightly.

"Don't be gay about it. I was just helping out. I'd do it for anyone." V said, and Jungkook hummed to himself, nodding quickly and looking ahead.

V sighed, dropped the controller and pressed a chaste kiss to Jungkook's lips. Jungkook squeaked out in surprise, and then V grabbed the controller again and faced ahead. Jungkook just smiled.

"No homo." V said quickly, and Jungbook burst into giggles.

https://jeontaeh.tumblr.com/post/647263548434792448/eleven

[airadam]

Episode 136 : Protection

"I'm a walking heart attack, looking for somebody to happen..."

- Boogieman

Still shut up in the house for the most part, which at least gives me a chance to really dig through my crates, vinyl and otherwise! This month's selection has some great recent records, some older underground favourites, and a mix segment I've been wanting to do for ages - figured this episode was as good a time as any!

Twitter : @airadam13

Twitch : @airadam13

Playlist/Notes

Mac Ayres : Shadows

If nothing else, this enforced time spent in the house has yielded some great musical discoveries. I heard this cut on a DJ Jazzy Jeff Twitch session, and bought it immediately as soon as I found out what it was! Mac Ayers is a singer/songwriter/instrumentalist from Long Island, and if he's already turning out material like this in his early 20s, I can only imagine what it'll be with more experience. This is a highlight on last year's "Juicebox" album, and one that those who enjoy the modern soul sound will almost certainly enjoy!

[DJ Premier] Prhyme : My Calling (Instrumental)

This beat from "Prhyme 2" is so, so good. DJ Premier continues to turn out fresh creations over thirty years since his debut, with more different styles than he's often given credit for. The pianos sound like falling rain, the low end is the solid ground, and everything else fits perfectly around them.

Ski Beatz & Stalley : Gentlemen's Quarterly

Smooth from the lyrics to Ski Beatz' sophisticated production, this is a cut I'd managed to forget about until I rediscovered it in my collection recently. Find it on the "Ski Beatz 24 Hour Karate School Presents Twilight" (snappy!) LP, if you can find a reasonably-priced copy!

LL Cool J ft. Keith Murray, Prodigy, Fat Joe, and Foxy Brown : I Shot Ya (Remix)

A classic from the mid-90s. LL brought in some of the hottest MCs of the time alongside a young Foxy Brown making her on-record debut for a Trackmasters-produced street banger. The "Mr. Smith" album is the source for this often-sampled gem.

O.C. & Organized Konfusion : You Won't Go Far

Unapologetic boom-bap from this all-NYC combination, taken from the second volume of the "New Jersey Drive" soundtrack. Of all the tracks on that release, it's the one that hews closest to the plot of the film itself, which itself makes it a standout in the world of 90s Hip-Hop/R&B soundtracks! OK self-produced this one, and rather than give each MC a verse each, they split each verse between the three of them for more of a tag-team feel.

Rise : Make Sure That We Win

Note: I got this wrong on the voiceover - this is a Beatminerz beat, not DJ Spinna. Spinna produced the excellent "Part of the Game" on the same EP.

Rise is an MC out of Brooklyn and the Demigodz crew, who has a knack for punchlines and quotables within a laid back style - he just seems puzzled by wack MCs most of the time! The Beatminerz provide the beat with the fuzzbox guitars moving all over the soundscape and the classic boom-bap drum style and some sub bass to give it the heft. DJ Evil Dee of Da Beatminerz rounds things out with his cuts for the hook. Grab this and a couple of other great tracks on the 2003 "The Intro..." EP.

Pete Rock : Air Smoove

"Petestrumentals 2" may not become the low-key icon that the first instalment did, but don't sleep on it - it's still Pete Rock on the beats, after all.  I keep going back to it and finding myself enjoying tracks more and more, with this being a prime example.

Above The Law ft. 2Pac and Money B : Call It What U Want

I once nearly got into a fight (the other guy was heated) when I off-handedly mentioned that I remembered when 2Pac had been a dancer for Digital Underground - but it was true, and there was never any shame in it! Anyway, it was also with that crew that he made initial strides onto the mic, and after going solo himself, this was one of his first features, alongside Money B from DU. Above The Law's "Black Mafia Life", from which this is taken, is one of the most overlooked albums that could claim the accolade of "classic" when you listen to how it sounded and how early it was made - I strongly recommend that every listener seeks it out for an end-to-end hearing. It's striking to realise that of the four MCs on this cut, only two are still with us today - RIP 2Pac and KMG.

DJ Quik ft. Pharoahe Monch & K.K. : Murda 1 Case

An absolute stomper from Compton's finest, leading with the piano, keeping the drums hard but simple (kicks on 1 and 3 only, snares on 2 and 4), and three MCs going at it. On this clear standout on 2002's "Under Tha Influence", the underrated Quik holds his own against one of the best to pick up a mic, and shows the confidence and intelligence as a producer to know that this was the man to bring in for the closing verse.

De La Soul : Verbal Clap

Many years after their debut, De La remind you that they can get busy on a state-of-the-art thumping beat with no problem - in this case, a masterful creation by J Dilla, one of two on 2004's "The Grind Date". Dave's rhyme style here is extra raw and he dominates by sheer brute force, standing out even on an album where De La sound highly-motivated overall. If you don't yet know it, it's well worth your while to search it out and have a proper listen.

Mr. Scruff ft. Broke 'n' English : Listen Up

Manchester all the way on this track, with the DJ and producer Mr Scruff getting the drumline mad active with a nice bassline, and Strategy and DRS of Broke 'n' English bringing all the local flavour on the mic. This great cut is on the flip of the also-excellent "Nice Up The Function" 12", which is now available digitally - so no difficulty in finding a copy!

[The Neptunes] Busta Rhymes : Pass The Courvoisier, Part II (Instrumental)

A great party beat, one to get people moving even without Busta and Pharrell's vocals!

AZ : Take Care Of Me

From his very first LP, AZ was flowing over soul/R&B samples, so it wasn't a reach for him to make a track like this for "Aziatic", his fourth. Precision soundtracks it with a "no samples" approach which for the non-Bad Boy producers tended to be the move for the club/radio tracks, and it's aged fairly well. AZ's lyrics are definitely reflective of the time - cellphones are so unremarkable in 2020!

Krumb Snatcha ft. Boogieman : Oxygen

Krumb Snatcha is pretty much as rugged as it gets, but here he shows that while he can give you an underground street classic like "Closer To God", there's still time to have fun! This track from his second LP "Respect All, Fear None" isn't what you might expect from KS but I think he did a solid job here. Nottz' beat bumps and burbles with a solid low end, and the guest MC Boogieman, who's already collaborated with him previously, steals the show with a casually disrespectful closing verse - not a particularly technical one, but entertaining!

Mic Geronimo : Nothin' Move But The Money

This record was hated when it came out, of all the tracks in this section, it was the most blatant pander to the pop audience - after all, Puffy (now Diddy) was the producer! This was amplified by the fact that Queens' own Mic Geronimo was a darling of the underground scene after his excellent debut LP "The Natural", and this is a million miles away stylistically. "Vendetta" was a big change, and arguably a bit of a career killer because of it. Have a look at the video - every so often, Mic actually looks pretty uncomfortable! 

Goodie Mob ft. Big Boi and Backbone : Get Rich To This

This was the next most derided track when it was released - if someone else had recorded it, it may have been received for what it was, but again, this was a serious sonic whiplash for anyone who had heard "Soul Food" or "Still Standing". It was still Organized Noize on production, still the same MCs (plus guests), but definitely not what people were expecting, by and large. I can't front though - I kind of liked it even then! The "World Party" LP is the source for this one.

[Kenny Dope] L Swift : Ride This (Instrumental)

Crispy clean drums and a nice guitar line are the highlights of this beat from a 2000 12" by one of the MCs from the incredible Natural Elements (now reformed, with L Swift as Swigga). The vocal version features A Butta from NE and the B-side is produced by Spinna, so well worth picking up if you see it!

Toots & The Maytals : Funky Kingston

We close the episode with the title track of the 1973 album by the reggae legend "Toots" Hibbert, who passed away this month at the age of 77, and his band. The throatiness of his delivery on this classic cut does bring to mind the American funk godfather James Brown, but the message and the groove is pure yard. It may be almost fifty years old now, but still moves a dancefloor with ease!

Please remember to support the artists you like! The purpose of putting the podcast out and providing the full tracklist is to try and give some light, so do use the songs on each episode as a starting point to search out more material. If you have Spotify in your country it's a great way to explore, but otherwise there's always Youtube and the like. Seeing your favourite artists live is the best way to put money in their pockets, and buy the vinyl/CDs/downloads of the stuff you like the most!

Check out this episode!

[hotvideo]

“Green Eyes” (1978)

A MOVIE-OF-THE-WEEK THAT RAISES AWARENESS FOR ALL THE KIDS SPAWNED FROM AMERICAN HOT SAUCE DURING THE VIETNAM WAR, AND HOW A LOT OF THEM ENDED UP HOMELESS, GLUE-SNIFFING ORPHANS.

BACK IN VIET-FUCKING-NAM, MAN, IF YOUR NUMBER GOT CALLED, IT MEANT YOUR ASS. SOME GUYS TRIED TO BEAT THE DRAFT BY GOING TO COLLEGE OR KNOCKING UP A GIRLFRIEND AND GETTING MARRIED; OTHERS TRIED TO COP SOME RAGTIME ABOUT BEING BORN WITH FLAT FEET OR SHOWED UP TO THEIR ARMY PHYSICAL IN A DRESS, BUT THE CHANCES OF THOSE METHODS WORKING WERE SLIM TO NONE. AS THE WISE OLD NEGRO SAYETH: MAN SAY GO, YOU GO.

I DON’T KNOW IF VIETNAM WAS THE FIRST MODERN WAR BEHOLDEN TO THE LAWLESS SPIRIT OF SEX, DRUGS AND ROCK’N’ROLL, BUT IT WAS CERTAINLY THE FIRST WAR SOLD AS SUCH. FOR THOSE OF US WHO WEREN’T THERE, WE’VE HAD THE OPPORTUNITY TO WATCH PLATOON ENOUGH TIMES TO KNOW THAT AMERICAN SOLDIERS IN VIETNAM COULD ONLY PROCESS THE HORRORS THEY WITNESSED DAILY– AND, IN MANY CASES, CONTRIBUTED TO – WITH THE AID OF BOOZE, DOPE, MOTOWN AND SEX WITH PROSTITUTES.  WHAT WE THE PUBLIC HAVEN’T FAMILIARIZED OURSELVES ENOUGH WITH IS STORIES ABOUT THE AFTERMATH OF THAT HEDONISTIC DEATHFEST, AND WHAT WAS LEFT BEHIND AFTER THE LAST U.S. CHOPPER FLED SAIGON. “GREEN EYES”, ALTHOUGH TOLD WITHIN THE FRIENDLY 1:33:1 FRAMEWORK OF TELEVISION, ATTEMPTS TO SHED SOME LIGHT ON THIS PERIOD.

THE FILM BEGINS IN THE BACKWOODS OF SOME COUNTRY BUNGHOLE, WHERE PAUL WINFIELD (A HERO AIN’T NOTHIN’ BUT A SANDWICH), A CRIPPLED VIETNAM VET, PAYS A VISIT TO THE HOME OF ONE OF HIS BUDDIES FROM THE SERVICE. IT’S A LITTLE SUPRISING WHEN THE PERSON WHO ANSWERS THE DOOR IS WHITE AND DOESN’T CHASE PAUL OFF WITH A 12-GAUGE. YEAH, THE PARENTS OF THIS DEAD SOLDIER MUST BE QUAKERS COS THEY LAY ON REAL THICK WITH THE OLD “OUR SON WAS KILLED FOR NO REASON” BUSINESS. PAUL, JUST BACK FROM HIS TOUR OF HELL, TELLS THE BEREAVED THEY’RE WRONG. DEAD WRONG.

IT’S BEEN SAID THAT THE BOND A SOLDIER MAKES WITH ANOTHER SOLDIER IS DEEPER THAN ANYTHING HE’LL FORGE ANYWHERE ELSE, EXCEPT MAYBE PRISON. PERHAPS THIS REFLECTS THE GENERAL OUTLOOK OF SOLDIERS, WHO, BY AND LARGE, ARE IMPARTIAL TO THE POLITICS OF ANY WAR THEY FIND THEMSELVES FIGHTING. IDEOLOGY IS FOR POLITICIANS; FOR EVERYONE ELSE, SURVIVAL IS THE MAIN MOTIVATION.

PAUL RETURNS HOME TO THE SOUTHSIDE OF SOME POOR AMERICAN CITY AND CAN’T CATCH A BREAK. NOBODY WANTS TO HIRE HIM BECAUSE HE’S A CRIPPLED VETERAN. WHEN PAUL GETS TIRED OF PLAYING PINBALL WITH THE OTHER JOBLESS MOTHERFUCKERS, HE BEGS HIS MAMA TO GIVE UP HER “KNEES MONEY” SO HE CAN RETURN TO SAIGON AND REUNITE WITH THE MOTHER OF HIS CHILD. MAMA HAS A COW, URGING PAUL TO FORGET ABOUT THAT CHAPTER IN HIS LIFE.

“No half-breed child of a Chinese slut is gonna throw out what I done spent my whole life scrubbing toilets for.”

-Mama

BUT PAUL CAN’T GIVE IT UP. THE BABY BOY, HE’S BEEN TOLD, HAS GREEN EYES JUST LIKE HIM, AND IT’S HIS MISSION TO FIND HIM.

PAUL GETS HIS ONE-WAY TICKET BACK TO SAIGON, WHERE SOME GRAINY STOCK FOOTAGE IS INCORPORATED BY THE FILM’S EDITORS BECAUSE “GREEN EYES”, MADE AFTER SAIGON HAD CLOSED OFF TO THE WEST AND BEEN RENAMED HO CHI MINH CITY, WAS MOST LIKELY LENSED ON AMERICA-FRIENDLY SHORES LIKE THE PHILIPPINES.

PAUL TAKES A CAB TO A SECTION OF SAIGON KNOWN AS “SOUL ALLEY”. THIS IS WHERE HE AND OTHER BLACK G.I.’s STAYED DURING R+R STINTS.

A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIRD-WORLD EXTRAS MATERIALIZE, KNOWING PAUL IS AN AMERICAN AND MIGHT HAVE PENCILS AND CHICLETS.

PAUL FINDS THE APARTMENT WHERE HIS BABY MAMA STAYS, BUT NO ONE’S HOME. 

HE CHEERS UP WHEN HE’S GREETED BY HIS BABY MAMA’S COUSIN, FANG. THEY PROCEED TO DO A CONVOLUTED HANDSHAKE SLASH BOOGALOO THAT PAUL NO DOUBT TAUGHT THE LITTLE SLOPE LATE ONE NIGHT WHEN HE WAS HIGH ON REEFER.

FANG INVITES PAUL IN TO SPEAK WITH MAMA-SAN, BUT SHE’S TOO DISTRACTED TRYING TO FISH A BUFFALO NICKEL OUT OF HER TEA TO ANSWER ANY OF PAUL’S LINE OF QUESTIONING.

TROUBLED AND RESTLESS, PAUL TAKES A WALK TO CLEAR HIS HEAD. HE FINDS A PARK AND SITS DOWN. ALMOST IMMEDIATELY, PAUL GETS PROPOSITIONED BY A FRIENDLY LADY OF THE NIGHT. HE TELLS HER HE’S TOO BROKE TO FUCK; IF HE NEEDS A TUGJOB LATER, HE’LL DO IT HIMSELF.

WHEN THE CHICK SPLITS, A LITTLE KID COMES OVER AND TRIES TO HUSTLE PAUL, PRETENDING THAT HE’S SEEN PAUL’S CHILD. THEN HE STEALS PAUL’S ARMY JACKET. PAUL CHASES HIM, BUT WITH HIS BAD LEG HE CAN’T CATCH UP.

THE NEXT DAY, PAUL BEGINS CANVASSING THE UNDERBELLY OF SAIGON FOR HIS BABY MAMA. HE STOPS AT AN ORPHANAGE, WHERE HE MEETS THE DIRECTOR, AN ENGLISHWOMAN (RITA TUSHINGHAM, THE KNACK... AND HOW TO GET IT) WHO OFFERS HIM ARMY RATION LEMONADE.

SHE GIVES PAUL THE SKINNY ON ADOPTION IN SAIGON, A SOUL-CRUSHING MASS OF RED TAPE THAT MAKES AMERICA’S SYSTEM LOOK CIVILIZED.

MISS RITA ALSO TELLS PAUL THAT HIS SON WAS MOST LIKELY ABANDONED BECAUSE OF HIS BEING PART BLACK. TO KEEP THE CHILD WOULD HAVE BESET THE MOTHER WITH A FAR MORE TRICKY STANDING IN VIETNAMESE SOCIETY.

AT THIS POINT, PAUL WANTS TO BURY HIS HEAD IN A BOILING POT OF PHO AND PEACE OUT. HE DISTRACTS HIMSELF WITH A COMBAT FLASHBACK, THE CLASSIC DRIVING-DOWN-SOME-COUNTRY-ROAD-AND-HITTING-A-LANDMINE NUMBER.

THREE-QUARTERS OF THE SPECIAL EFFECTS BUDGET DOWN THE TUBES.

PAUL NOTICES THE PALLETS OF CHEAP CLOTHING IN THE MARKETPLACE ARE ALL MARKED WITH THE SAME STENCIL.

PAUL VISITS ONE OF THE ORPHANAGES MISS RITA MENTIONED. HE FINDS AN OVERCROWDED ROOM AND A BUNCH OF UNSUPERVISED KIDS TEARING THE PLACE APART.

WHEN PAUL APPROACHES THE ADULT IN CHARGE, HE FINDS HE’S SPEAKING TO A FUCKING BLIND PERSON. DAMN. SUBTLE.

PAUL WRITES A LETTER TO HIS MAMA, TELLING HER ABOUT THE THINGS HE’S SEEN IN THE ORPHANAGES, AND THE KIND OF POVERTY THAT DOESN’T COMPARE TO ANYTHING HE KNOWS BACK IN AMERICA.

THIS IS THE PART WHEN “GREEN EYES” ESSENTIALLY BECOMES AN ADVERT FOR UNICEF.

PAUL BUYS A BUNCH OF BANANAS AND FEEDS THE LITTLE MONKEYS. HE STARTS SPENDING MORE TIME WITH THEM. IT GIVES HIM A SENSE OF PURPOSE.

THEN HE RUNS INTO THE LITTLE FUCKER WHO STOLE HIS ARMY JACKET. THE KID, CALLED TRUNG, KNOWING HE’S GOT ABOUT TWO SECONDS TO LIVE BEFORE PAUL’S BIG BLACK FISTS COME RAINING DOWN, PROMISES TO HELP PAUL FIND HIS SON.

“Kid, you ain’t worth the skin on my knuckles. Where he at?

TRUNG TAKES PAUL TO A BAR TO MEET A FIXER, ONE OF THOSE GUYS WHO KNOWS PEOPLE AND HOW TO PROCURE THINGS.

THE GUY TURNS OUT TO BE PAUL’S OLD ARMY BUDDY, MIAMI BEACH. THIS CAT FAKED HIS OWN DEATH TO GET OUT OF THE SHIT, MAN. NOW HE’S BLOWING PAUL’S MIND, TALKING ALL KINDS OF TALK ABOUT HOW SAIGON’S A GAS -- YOU CAN GET ANYTHING YOU WANT. PICK YOUR POISON.

MIAMI BEACH SENDS PAUL AND THE KID TO THE COUNTRYSIDE TO RENDEZVOUS WITH THE RICE PADDY CONTINGENT.

ON THE WAY, THEY HAVE TO BRIBE SOME CHECKPOINT GOONS WITH OLD LOTTERY TICKETS TO GET THROUGH.

WHILE TRUNG GOES DOOR TO DOOR, PAUL LAYS BACK IN THE CUT AND REALIZES HE KNOWS THIS VILLAGE INTIMATELY.

ONCE UPON A TIME, HIS PLATOON BURNED IT TO THE GROUND SO THEY COULD BEAT A RIVAL SQUAD ON BODY COUNTS AND WIN A CASE OF BUDWEISER.

MORE OF THE SPECIAL EFFECTS BUDGET IN ACTION.

OBLIGATORY “NOOOOOOO” SHOT.

PAUL’S PRETTY BUMMED OUT WHEN HE RETURNS FROM THE COUNTRYSIDE. MIAMI BEACH DRAGS HIM TO A PARTY AT SOME RICH BROAD’S HOUSE, SELLING IT AS AN IN TO THE EX-PAT BREAD THAT WILL HELP HIM FIND GREEN EYES.

ON THE RIDE OVER, MIAMI’S CHERRY BENZ GETS ATTACKED BY SOME HUNGRY OLVIDADOS.

THE PARTY’S PRETTY HAPPENING. PAUL CAN’T GET OVER THE HORS D’EUVRES SPREAD, ENOUGH FOOD THE TO FEED ALL THE ORPHANS IN SAIGON. OH, THE IRONY! AND... AND LOOK AT THOSE JUGS! JESUS! ILSA, ILSA!

EVEN THE BUDDHISTS ARE SATED.

PAUL ISN’T HAVING ANY OF IT. ACROSS THE LAWN, HE RECOGNIZES MISS RITA FROM THE ADOPTION AGENCY HAVING A SIMILARLY TERRIBLE TIME. THEY CONSPIRE TO STEAL SOME TRAYS OF FINGER FOOD AND FEED THE LITTLE MONKEYS OUTSIDE THE GATE.

THIS PISSES OFF THE PARTY HOST SO MUCH, PAUL AND RITA ARE ASKED TO LEAVE.

THEY WALK THE STREETS UNTIL CURFEW. WHEN THE CLOCK STRIKES TEN, RITA SAYS SHE HAS TO GET BACK TO THE ORPHANAGE AND PUT THE BABIES TO BED. PAUL ASKS IF HE, TOO, CAN HELP PUT RITA’S BABIES TO BED. I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT BABIES PAUL IS REFERRING TO, OR IF, IN FACT, HE MEANS RITA’S PRIVATE PARTS.

PAUL SPENDS SOME QUALITY TIME AT RITA’S ORPHANAGE, WHERE HE TEACHES SOME OF THE KIDS HOW TO PLAY BASEBALL. RITA TELLS PAUL THE SAD NARRATIVE OF A STREET KID’S LIFE IN SAIGON, ESSENTIALLY THAT HE LIVES ON GARBAGE UNTIL HE’S FIFTEEN, WHEN HE JOINS THE ARMY TO ESCAPE THE STREETS. FIFTEEN?! THIS GIVES PAUL A NEW PERSPECTIVE ON TRUNG AND HIS ILK.

LATER THAT NIGHT, AFTER THE CHILDREN HAVE BEEN PUT TO BED, PAUL AND RITA SMOKE SOME OPIUM AND RAP INTO THE WEE HOURS ABOUT GREEN EYES AND ALL THE COLORS IN THE SKY, AND HOW LIFE CAN BE SO FLY WHEN YOU’RE HIGH ON THIS MAGIC CARPET RIDE.

“Do you fancy a shag, Othello?”

THE NEXT DAY, TRUNG COMES OVER FOR LUNCH.

HE STUFFS HIS FACE WITH PAPAYA AND ALMOST FORGETS TO TELL PAUL THAT MIAMI BEACH HAS MANAGED TO LOCATE PAUL’S EX OLD LADY, LEI-CHAN.

“The hell you say?! Put that fruit down and talk to me, boy. That damn papaya can wait, but my son, goddamit, my son can’t...”

TRUNG TAKES PAUL TO A HELLISH MARINA WHERE INSIDE EVERY CARDBOARD SHANTY SOMEONE’S EITHER SHOOTING A SNUFF FILM OR PERFORMING A CAT ABORTION.

YES, FRIENDS, BY DONATING JUST FIVE DOLLARS A MONTH, YOU CAN ENSURE THAT A BEAUTIFUL CHILD LIKE THIS ONE RECEIVES THE BASIC FOOD AND NOURISHMENT IT REQUIRES TO SUBSIST IN THE HARSH CONDITIONS OF LIFE IN THE DEVELOPING WORLD.

THEY FINALLY GET TO THE TENT WHERE LEI-CHAN IS BELIEVED TO BE. PAUL TELLS TRUNG TO WAIT OUTSIDE.

IN THE BOOM-BOOM ROOM, PAUL DISCOVERS HIS EX. SHE LOOKS TIRED AND FUCKED-OUT. A BABY’S CRYING IN THE CLOSET. COULD IT BE?

SWING LOW... SWEET CHARIOT... NOPE, IT’S SOMEBODY ELSE’S BABY. A PILOT FOR AIR PHILIPPINES, LEI-CHAN EXPLAINS. THE DUDE WAS SUPPOSED TO SEND FOR THEM THE PREVIOUS WEEK BUT GOT TIED UP IN A MONSOON.

“Green Eyes is dead. I am sorry. He get fever. That was that. And Paul, if you like to feel better, I give you fucky fuck for ole time sake.

PAUL OPTS OUT OF THE FUCKY FUCK AND LEAVES THAT BOOM-BOOM ROOM A CHANGED MAN. PART OF HIM IS DEAD, A MUCH BIGGER PART THAN WAS ALREADY DEAD, BUT, MORE IMPORTANTLY, PART OF HIM IS NOT DEAD.

HE TAKES THE TOY HE WAS PLANNING TO GIVE GREEN EYES, ONE OF THOSE DISTURBING WIND-UP MONKEYS THAT PLAY THE CYMBALS, AND BURIES IT IN THE GROUND, UPSIDE DOWN. SEMPER FI!

PAUL STOPS BY MISS RITA’S TO SAY GOODBYE. HE ASKS IF SHE’S SEEN TRUNG. SHE HASN’T, BUT WAS UNDER THE IMPRESSION THAT THE BOY BELIEVED PAUL HAD FOUND HIS SON AND NO LONGER HAD ANY USE FOR TRUNG. ALTHOUGH HE’S WORRIED HE’LL MISS HIS FLIGHT BACK HOME, PAUL DECIDES TO LOOK FOR TRUNG AND SAY GOODBYE. HE HAILS A TAXI AND TAKES IT TO THE MOO-GOO-GUY DISTRICT.

TRUNG APPEARS SITTING ON A BRIDGE, WEARING A BALLOON ON HIS HEAD AND EATING WHAT LOOKS LIKE GRILLED PUPPY INTESTINES ON A STICK. HE ASKS ABOUT GREEN EYES. PAUL TELLS HIM THE TRUTH, THE BABY TRUNG HEARD WAS SOMEBODY ELSE’S.

“I think I have the rest of my day to hear this American story, but I only have three more seconds to finish this fried plantain before it congeals and turn to athlete’s foot.”

“Say, Trung, man, I just missed my plane because of you, man. So what’cha doin’ with the rest of your life? How about we catch a ferry out of this here and go exploring, man. I hear that Malay pussy is outta sight. Like, they know how to take care of a brother. And after that, we’ll set sail for Brazil. Man, the bitches down there ain’t even got hair... down there.”

THE END.

[aurriii]

10 Books That Will Transport You To The Beach If You Can’t Go IRL

Maybe you’re social distancing. Maybe all of your friends are. Maybe your funds are tight. Many of us have a good reason our summer is not quite like summers of our past. We miss the waves just as much as the next person not within walking distance to the ocean, so we’ve compiled a list of books where we can all escape to a far away island or beach town, no sunscreen needed. Or hey, lather it on. We’re not opposed to a little sensory enhancement.

Click on book in slideshow to see it’s lowest price

Big Summer: A Novel

Beautiful Ruins by Jess Walter

28 Summers by Elin Hilderbrand

The Vacationers By Emma Straub

The Jetsetters: A Novel By Amanda Eyre Ward

The Guest List: A Novel By Lucy Foley

Beach Read By Emily Henry

Sex and Vanity: A Novel By Kevin Kwan

Hello, Summer By Mary Kay Andrews

The Summer Set Aimee Agresti

  1. Big Summer: A Novel

by Jennifer Weiner

Six years after the fight that ended their friendship, Daphne Berg is shocked when Drue Cavanaugh walks back into her life, looking as lovely and successful as ever, with a massive favor to ask. Daphne hasn’t spoken one word to Drue in all this time—she doesn’t even hate-follow her ex-best friend on social media—so when Drue asks if she will be her maid-of-honor at the society wedding of the summer, Daphne is rightfully speechless.

Drue was always the one who had everything—except the ability to hold onto friends. Meanwhile, Daphne’s no longer the same self-effacing sidekick she was back in high school. She’s built a life that she loves, including a growing career as a plus-size Instagram influencer. Letting glamorous, seductive Drue back into her life is risky, but it comes with an invitation to spend a weekend in a waterfront Cape Cod mansion. When Drue begs and pleads and dangles the prospect of cute single guys, Daphne finds herself powerless as ever to resist her friend’s siren song.

A sparkling novel about the complexities of female relationships, the pitfalls of living out loud and online, and the resilience of the human heart, Big Summer is a witty, moving story about family, friendship, and figuring out what matters most.

Source: Publisher

2. Beautiful Ruins

by Jess Walter

The story begins in 1962. On a rocky patch of the sun-drenched Italian coastline, a young innkeeper, chest-deep in daydreams, looks out over the incandescent waters of the Ligurian Sea and spies an apparition: a tall, thin woman, a vision in white, approaching him on a boat. She is an actress, he soon learns, an American starlet, and she is dying. And the story begins again today, half a world away, when an elderly Italian man shows up on a movie studio’s back lot, searching for the mysterious woman he last saw at his hotel decades earlier. What unfolds is a dazzling, yet deeply human, roller coaster of a novel, spanning fifty years and nearly as many lives. From the lavish set of Cleopatra to the shabby revelry of the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, Walter introduces us to the tangled lives of a dozen unforgettable characters: the starstruck Italian innkeeper and his long-lost love; the heroically preserved producer who once brought them together and his idealistic young assistant; the army veteran turned fledgling novelist and the rakish Richard Burton himself, whose appetites set the whole story in motion, along with the husbands and wives, lovers and dreamers, superstars and losers, who populate their world in the decades that follow. Gloriously inventive, constantly surprising, Beautiful Ruins is a story of flawed yet fascinating people, navigating the rocky shores of their lives while clinging to their improbable dreams.

Source: Publisher

3. 28 Summers

by Elin Hilderbrand

A “captivating and bittersweet” novel by the #1 New York Times bestselling author of Summer of ’69: Their secret love affair has lasted for decades — but this could be the summer that changes everything (People). When Mallory Blessing’s son, Link, receives deathbed instructions from his mother to call a number on a slip of paper in her desk drawer, he’s not sure what to expect. But he certainly does not expect Jake McCloud to answer. It’s the late spring of 2020 and Jake’s wife, Ursula DeGournsey, is the frontrunner in the upcoming Presidential election. There must be a mistake, Link thinks. How do Mallory and Jake know each other? Flash back to the sweet summer of 1993: Mallory has just inherited a beachfront cottage on Nantucket from her aunt, and she agrees to host her brother’s bachelor party. Cooper’s friend from college, Jake McCloud, attends, and Jake and Mallory form a bond that will persevere — through marriage, children, and Ursula’s stratospheric political rise — until Mallory learns she’s dying. Based on the classic film Same Time Next Year (which Mallory and Jake watch every summer), 28 Summers explores the agony and romance of a one-weekend-per-year affair and the dramatic ways this relationship complicates and enriches their lives, and the lives of the people they love.

Source: Publisher

  4. The Vacationers

By Emma Straub

For the Posts, a two-week trip to the Balearic island of Mallorca with their extended family and friends is a celebration: Franny and Jim are observing their thirty-fifth wedding anniversary, and their daughter, Sylvia, has graduated from high school. The sunlit island, its mountains and beaches, its tapas and tennis courts, also promise an escape from the tensions simmering at home in Manhattan. But all does not go according to plan: over the course of the vacation, secrets come to light, old and new humiliations are experienced, childhood rivalries resurface, and ancient wounds are exacerbated.

This is a story of the sides of ourselves that we choose to show and those we try to conceal, of the ways we tear each other down and build each other up again, and the bonds that ultimately hold us together. With wry humor and tremendous heart, Emma Straub delivers a richly satisfying story of a family in the midst of a maelstrom of change, emerging irrevocably altered yet whole.

Source: Publisher

  5. The Jetsetters: A Novel

By Amanda Eyre Ward

When seventy-year-old Charlotte Perkins submits a sexy essay to the Become a Jetsetter contest, she dreams of reuniting her estranged children: Lee, an almost-famous actress; Cord, a handsome Manhattan venture capitalist who can’t seem to find a partner; and Regan, a harried mother who took it all wrong when Charlotte bought her a Weight Watchers gift certificate for her birthday. Charlotte yearns for the years when her children were young, when she was a single mother who meant everything to them.

When she wins the contest, the family packs their baggage—both literal and figurative—and spends ten days traveling from sun-drenched Athens through glorious Rome to tapas-laden Barcelona on an over-the-top cruise ship, the Splendido Marveloso. As lovers new and old join the adventure, long-buried secrets are revealed and old wounds are reopened, forcing the Perkins family to confront the forces that drove them apart and the defining choices of their lives.

Can four lost adults find the peace they’ve been seeking by reconciling their childhood aches and coming back together? In the vein of The Nest and The Vacationers, The Jetsetters is a delicious and intelligent novel about the courage it takes to reveal our true selves, the pleasures and perils of family, and how we navigate the seas of adulthood.

Source: Publisher

  6. The Guest List: A Novel

By Lucy Foley

A wedding celebration turns dark and deadly in this deliciously wicked and atmospheric thriller reminiscent of Agatha Christie from the New York Times bestselling author of The Hunting Party.

The bride – The plus one – The best man – The wedding planner  – The bridesmaid – The body

On an island off the coast of Ireland, guests gather to celebrate two people joining their lives together as one. The groom: handsome and charming, a rising television star. The bride: smart and ambitious, a magazine publisher. It’s a wedding for a magazine, or for a celebrity: the designer dress, the remote location, the luxe party favors, the boutique whiskey. The cell phone service may be spotty and the waves may be rough, but every detail has been expertly planned and will be expertly executed.

But perfection is for plans, and people are all too human. As the champagne is popped and the festivities begin, resentments and petty jealousies begin to mingle with the reminiscences and well wishes. The groomsmen begin the drinking game from their school days. The bridesmaid not-so-accidentally ruins her dress. The bride’s oldest (male) friend gives an uncomfortably caring toast.

And then someone turns up dead. Who didn’t wish the happy couple well? And perhaps more important, why?

Source: Publisher

  7. Beach Read

By Emily Henry

They’re polar opposites.

In fact, the only thing they have in common is that for the next three months, they’re living in neighboring beach houses, broke, and bogged down with writer’s block.

Until, one hazy evening, one thing leads to another and they strike a deal designed to force them out of their creative ruts: Augustus will spend the summer writing something happy, and January will pen the next Great American Novel. She’ll take him on field trips worthy of any rom-com montage, and he’ll take her to interview surviving members of a backwoods death cult (obviously). Everyone will finish a book and no one will fall in love. Really.

Source: Publisher

8. Sex and Vanity: A Novel

By Kevin Kwan

The iconic author of the bestselling phenomenon Crazy Rich Asians returns with the glittering tale of a young woman who finds herself torn between two men: the WASPY fiancé of her family’s dreams and George Zao, the man she is desperately trying to avoid falling in love with.

On her very first morning on the jewel-like island of Capri, Lucie Churchill sets eyes on George Zao and she instantly can’t stand him. She can’t stand it when he gallantly offers to trade hotel rooms with her so that she can have a view of the Tyrrhenian Sea, she can’t stand that he knows more about Casa Malaparte than she does, and she really can’t stand it when he kisses her in the darkness of the ancient ruins of a Roman villa and they are caught by her snobbish, disapproving cousin Charlotte. “Your mother is Chinese so it’s no surprise you’d be attracted to someone like him,” Charlotte teases. The daughter of an American-born Chinese mother and a blue-blooded New York father, Lucie has always sublimated the Asian side of herself in favor of the white side, and she adamantly denies having feelings for George. But several years later, when George unexpectedly appears in East Hampton, where Lucie is weekending with her new fiancé, Lucie finds herself drawn to George again. Soon, Lucie is spinning a web of deceit that involves her family, her fiancé, the co-op board of her Fifth Avenue apartment building, and ultimately herself as she tries mightily to deny George entry into her world–and her heart. Moving between summer playgrounds of privilege, peppered with decadent food and extravagant fashion, Sex and Vanity is a truly modern love story, a daring homage to A Room with a View, and a brilliantly funny comedy of manners set between two cultures.

Source: Publisher

9. Hello, Summer

By Mary Kay Andrews

New York Times bestselling author and Queen of the Beach Reads Mary Kay Andrews delivers her next blockbuster, Hello Summer.

It’s a new season…

Conley Hawkins left her family’s small town newspaper, The Silver Bay Beacon, in the rearview mirror years ago. Now a star reporter for a big-city paper, Conley is exactly where she wants to be and is about to take a fancy new position in Washington, D.C. Or so she thinks.

For small town scandals…

When the new job goes up in smoke, Conley finds herself right back where she started, working for her sister, who is trying to keep The Silver Bay Beacon afloat—and she doesn’t exactly have warm feelings for Conley. Soon she is given the unenviable task of overseeing the local gossip column, “Hello, Summer.”

And big-time secrets.

Then Conley witnesses an accident that ends in the death of a local congressman—a beloved war hero with a shady past. The more she digs into the story, the more dangerous it gets. As an old heartbreaker causes trouble and a new flame ignites, it soon looks like their sleepy beach town is the most scandalous hotspot of the summer.

Source: Publisher

  10. The Summer Set

Aimee Agresti

Recommended by Glamour * Bustle * Popsugar * Booklist * Playbill

Charlie Savoy was once Hollywood’s hottest A-lister. Now, ten years later, she’s pushing forty, exiled from the film world and back at the summer Shakespeare theater in the Berkshires that launched her career—and where her old flame, Nick, is the artistic director.

It’s not exactly her first choice. But as parts are cast and rehearsals begin, Charlie is surprised to find herself getting her groove back, bonding with celebrity actors, forging unexpected new friendships and even reigniting her spark with Nick, who still seems to bring out the best in her despite their complicated history.

Until Charlie’s old rival, Hollywood’s current It Girl, is brought on set, threatening to undo everything she’s built. As the drama amps up both on the stage and behind the curtains, Charlie must put on the show of a lifetime to fight for the second chance she deserves in career and in love.

“A page-turner set in the intoxicating theater world, The Summer Set considers the price of fame, the power of second chances and the enduring nature of love. A truly enjoyable read!” —Elyssa Friedland, author of The Floating Feldmans

Source: Publisher

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[avanneman]

Jay Leno’s Garage: Have Penis Substitute, Will Travel—Fast!

What’s that you say, Bucky? You hate your job? Put your foot in it! You hate your wife? Put your foot in it! Your kids hate you? Put your foot in it!

Yes, for Jay and his many buddies, who fill the YouTube episodes of Jay Leno’s Garage with thousands of gearhead comments, there is no malady of brain or body, no sickness of man or beast, that cannot be cured by stepping on the gas of a primo V-8, particularly when situated in the chassis of Corvette, Jaguar, or similar vehicle of a fifteen-year-old’s fantasy. Who needs a “life” when you can have cubic inches?

For a certain type of man, civilization began, not with the Greeks but with the invention of the internal combustion engine, though Jay will make generous allowance for the charms of the steam engine, which does have pistons, after all, and can be even more satisfyingly complicated and hard to maintain than a flathead, or an El-head, or any other kind of head.

Is Jay right? Well, watch the video above, showing Jay piloting the more than legendary 1956 Jaguar XKSS, owned by Steve McQueen himself! I’ve never seen a happier man. In fact, I’ve never seen one so happy.

Jay Len’s Garage has been running in various formats for more than a decade now. I understand there’s a regular TV series version, with, you know, stars, but I prefer the gearhead version that’s available on YouTube. The actual garage is Jay’s personal Disneyland, where no woman has ever set foot,1 and where his limitless obsession with every aspect of reciprocating machinery can run riot. “Look at those hand-cut gears!” he exults, displaying a steam engine from the early nineteenth century.

Because Jay, unlike most car guys, is a true history buff. In another episode, he shows off another steam engine, telling his visitor that this is—wait for it!—the actual steam engine that ran the generator for Thomas Edison’s lab in Menlo Park New Jersey! The dude stares blankly, but Jay isn’t finished. Look at these bolts and nuts! Hand cut! Hand cut! This nut fits this bolt, and this bolt alone, in all the world! Uh, good, Jay. Where’s the Ferrari?

Most of the best episodes for Jay’s Garage were done years ago, showing off his true vintage items—late nineteenth and early and mid twentieth century. Jay is chock full of social history, pointing out that a massive Duesenberg from the mid thirties cost about ten times as much as the average American home.

Sometimes the commentary is implicit rather than explicit. Showing off the 2017 Honda NSX sports car, Jay harkens back to the original NSX (dating from the late 1990s) as the first “super car” that actually, you know, worked! All the “big cars” of the past, whether sports cars or sedans—the Rolls Royce, the Mercedes 600, the Ferraris, the Lamborghinis—were much more status symbols than functional vehicles, laden down with luxury features that never worked, while the cars themselves frequently broke down entirely, and cost a fortune to fix. So what? Any chump can buy a half-assed car that runs! Only a real man (that is to say, a rich man) can afford to buy an expensive car that doesn’t run!

Jay never gets tired of chuckling over the “foibles” (that is to say, the poor design and workmanship) of the classic marques. The Bugattis, yeah, they did leak oil, and they wouldn’t start on cold mornings, and the air intake was underneath the car, so that it got clogged with dirt and rocks, and they cost a fortune to repair, but, hey, it’s a Bugatti! Do you know how rare they are? And how much they cost? You say driving a Jaguar for an hour hurt your back so badly you’re on crutches? Hey, you drove a Jaguar! You drove a Jaguar!

High-end rip-offs are scarcely a thing of the past. In a recent episode, Jay fills us in on maintenance of his beloved, million-dollar McLaren F-1, which Jay repeatedly calls “the greatest car of the twentieth century.” Yeah, you have to replace the clutch every 12,000 miles (at, I’m guessing, around $50,000 a pop). Oh, and the “fuel cell” (pretty sure this is the gas tank) has to be replaced every five years,2 for maybe a hundred grand. So what? The car goes 240 miles an hour!

Despite a never-ending Jones for high-end penis substitutes, Jay will find pleasure in virtually anything that burns fuel and moves, anything from a fat-assed suburban sedan from the fifties—“she’s a good old girl,” Jay sighs almost incestuously, as the old girl grinds into third—or an unending succession of old-timey motorcycles, each proclaimed as “one of the most beautiful bikes ever made!”3

It may be all an act, but Jay is a vocal champion of the “principle” that cars, and everything else, should be made in America, although it’s clear that he knows the best thing that ever happened to cars (and motorcycles) was the entry of the Japanese into the automobile market, forcing both American and European manufacturers to deliver cars that actually worked.4 Another interesting tidbit from Jay: “Montreal is the most beautiful city in North America!” How “cosmopolitan” is that?

Jay is happiest driving down the street in an actual race car. Know why? Because there’s only one seat! You can’t take anyone with you! It’s just you, man and machine! “Looking down that long hood makes me feel like I’m a fighter pilot. I like to sneak up behind other drivers like I’m going to blast them with my machine guns!” If only, Jay! If only life were perfect!

Not entirely true. There was, for sure, at least one woman, who had a restored, mid-fifties BMW. ↩︎

In the video, Jay holds up the fuel cell, which looks to me to be made out of plastic-impregnated cardboard. Maybe it isn’t, but that’s what it looks like. ↩︎

“I like a bike you can see through!” Jay states with emphasis, as if proclaiming a fundamental principle of, well, motorcycle appreciation. ↩︎

When the Japanese first considered entering the market for high-end manufactured products in the U.S.—not just for cars but for copiers, etc.—the big argument against it was that they could never compete with the nationwide network of repair and support staff that U.S. companies had established over the decades. So the Japanese asked themselves, “what if our products never broke down?” ↩︎