#hit and run 1966

[maggiecheungs]

A Moment of Terror (1966) dir. Mikio Naruse

[user2772636]

Hate is *a strong word

(the wrong word)

You've been on eachothers throats since kindergarten. Now that college is coming, more competitions mean more rivalry. You can't keep bottling emotions cause they'll spill out.

Senior!Joseph Descamps x Senior!Reader

Warnings: swearing, smoking, ANGSTTT, two eyed joseph (sorry one eyed joseph lovers)

Reference to movie "Akeelah and The Bee"

Based on this request!!! @lovingaphroditesworld

Still based in Voltaire High, but mentions of some colleges and such

Champagne Coast - Blood Orange

Ever since you were little, you had an amazing mind. You won school competitions, aced all your exams, and were always the top of your class.

And with all of that came Joseph. He, too, had an amazing mind. So amazing, in fact, that you had started to doubt yourself, causing you to trip in the road of straight A's.

That's when you started to hate him. You hated his handwriting, his smile when he received a paper back with the plaster of a letter that makes you think he's catching up to you. Way too quick for your liking.

Then, when you hit middle school, you hated more things. You hated the way his glasses slipped a little when he was focused too much on his work or when his hair was all messed up when he played with his friends or runs late for an exam.

Of course, when high school came, you hated and hated away. You hate the way he's become twice your size, towering over you like some lampost. Or the way he talks to other girls with such arrogance. Or the smell of smoke that lingers when you walk by him.

That's the thing with Joseph. You hate him.

Now, when Joseph met you in kindergarten, he was head over heels. He loved the different ways you styled your hair. He loved it when you scrunched your nose at him. He loved your laugh and your chipped smile.

In middle school, he continued to love you. He loved it when he caught you staring, even though they were glares. He loved how invested you get when it comes to school. He even loved you when you got grumpy and mean.

But then high school happened. Things changed for him. He started to really notice how you saw him. Then he started to hate it. He hated that you hated him. And now, he hates you.

He hates when you ignore him after he's asked for a spare pen or when you don't care about the fact he's talking to other girls. And these girls were nothing compared to you.

He hates that you click your pen when you can't figure out a question or when you spend all your time in the library reading instead of taking in your high school years.

That's the thing with you. He hates you.

Now, with only one year left with you, he wouldn't even bother anymore.

January 12, 1966 - 7:51 am - Voltaire High

Students crowd the corridor, echoing sound of clicking heels, low laughing, and chatter. You keep your binders close to your chest as you walk up the massive stairwell.

Feeling a pair of eyes on you, you look up to the balcony expecting your friend, but your face drops as you see his glasses framed eyes.

You look away. One more year left, you think. Just one more year.

The bell rings once you make it to the main hallway, hurrying your steps to settle into English. Once you walk inside, a small group in the corner of the room goes quiet. You glance over and realise it's him again.

Joseph shushes his friends, clasping a hand over their mouths in order to keep them quiet. When he makes eye contact with you (again), he nods as a greeting. You only glare, making his friends snort quietly at him.

"I told you to stay quiet!" Joseph whisper shouts to his group.

"But your girlfriend-" Dupin starts, cut off with Joseph clasping his hand on the boys mouth again.

"She's not my girlfriend!" He scowls at Dupin.

You roll your eyes, and only then does Joseph realise how loud he was. He blushes (in frustration, of course) and hurries to his seat, eyes boring into the side of your head.

January 25, 1966 - 12:03 pm - Voltaire Library

It was peaceful. You had just been dismissed for your lunch break that you could still hear the footsteps and clatter of your fellow schoolmates. The sun was at its peak, the light cascading brightly even in winter through the tall windows of the library.

Only a few had been in the room with you, including your sweet librarian and her husband.

Scanning through a page of a philosophy book you've found, your eyes stop when you hear the loud creak of the door.

Slowly, you look up, catching three pairs of eyes looking at you. They quickly disappear, leaving you furrowing your eyebrows. Their identities are revealed when exactly those three boys waltz right in. You don't even try to fight the urge to roll your eyes.

Descamps' friend group whistle through their lips, eyes wandering everywhere but you. They scratch their head, fiddle with a pen or an apple.

Joseph's tall frame stands out from all of them. You mean, how could he not? Especially with his ash brown coloured hair glowing from the natural light.

Mrs. Beauforde, your librarian, looks at you and raises her brows as if asking. Do you want me to make them leave?

Just to make things easier for the older woman, you smile and shake your head no. You'd take care of this. You always have.

Getting up with your book in hand, you go back to the corner of the library where you found it. You hear the rather loud footsteps of the boys, and your head starts to hurt at their antics.

Slipping the book through an empty slot, you turn swiftly to catch them in the act. They spread out as if you hadn't caught them right then and there. Placing both hands on your hips, you slowly walk over to the boy you knew lead his.

"Joseph," You say, voice low like confronting a child. "Would you like to explain why you're stalking me?"

He looks at you, baffled. "Stalking you?" He chuckles, placing a hand on his chest. "You flatter yourself too much."

This only angers you. He's so arrogant it just makes you want to kiss slap his mouth shut.

You tongue your inner cheek to keep yourself from saying something that would get you in trouble.

"Leave me alone, Joseph. Schools almost over, you won't have to see me again. Give me a break." You sigh, looking down on both of your feet.

Honestly, you were getting a bit tired of his stuff. You're both seniors now, almost off to college, ready to take on the reality of being adults.

When you glance back up at him, there's a solemn look on his face.

To Joseph, he didn't want to stop. He couldn't. The thought of you never seeing eachother again made him feel heavier. He should be feeling free. There'd be no more competitions, no more distractions, and the feeling of being on top would be right there.

But he didn't feel that. He felt heavier. Like, if you were gone, there was no more trying to prove he's better than the best, or no more sneaking out with his friends to see what your up to, no more of those glares that he's grown to hate then grown to like.

So there he was, just staring at you like you were the only thing keeping him happy. The only thing that fills his mind.

It scares you.

"What?" You stutter out, scanning his face for something, anything that showed he wasn't feeling what you were thinking. But there's nothing. A chill rattles your spine even in the warmth that a library usually gives you.

He shakes his head, looking at you through those frames you've grown used to seeing slip on his beautiful nose.

He sighs, turning around and leaving you stood there.

You hadn't even noticed that his friends left, or that the librarian couple was staring at the both of you the whole time. It's as if the world disappears when he's there.

That makes you angry.

He's going to be a distraction. Now you're thinking that it's a good riddance he'd be gone by college, because if he'll be there, then you'll just get distracted because he's there being his handsome self.

You stomp away from the library, lunch break long over.

"When do you think they'll get together?" Mrs. Beauforde whispers to her husband.

Mr. Beauforde chuckles. "How long did it take you to finally like me back?"

Mrs. Beauforde rolls her eyes, a lingering smile on her face. Her eyes go back to the door you just left through.

"They remind me so much of us back then." Mr. Beauforde places a hand on his wife's shoulder.

"Well, look where we ended up." He grabs one of her hands gently, kissing it with much love and care.

Febuary 19, 1966 - 8:13 am - Voltaire High

An English Quiz Bee was set to take place in late Feburary and end in mid March, in the same week your school year ends.

The draft of students picked were top ten of your English class. Only 2 would be able to compete in the semi-finals.

Automatically, you're there. Automatically, he's there.

And obviously, you both win.

Today was Saturday, and you're on your way to school for your review with Ms. Couret when you accidentally slip on fresh ice.

You yelp in surprise, the solidity of the ground makes your back sting in pain. Luckily, you hadn't hit any area that would cause a concussion or sprain.

Just when you thought luck was by your side, Joseph rounds around the corner of the sidewalk you were in, stopping in his tracks at the sight of you.

When he finally did recognise you, he wasted no time helping you up and checking you for injuries.

"What are you doing out here? You know the ice hasn't fully melted yet, and you're just absentmindedly walking around. With nobody, might I add. You're going to kill me one day!" He exclaims, and you only furrow your eyebrows at his behaviour.

"Why do you care so much anyway? Don't you remember we have a review with Ms. Couret?" You ask, voice raised slightly at the simmering annoyance in your chest.

"I just came from school. The guard said Ms. Couret couldn't make it today; that she was supposed to tell us sooner but forgot." He matches your tone, his heavy breaths highlighted by the cold air making small clouds.

"Oh." Dead air fills around you. The empty streets covered in bright snow made you realise how cold it was, and you shiver from each breeze.

"I'll just go home then." You turn on your heel, ready to head back to your place when Joseph's deep voice gravels to your ears.

"Hey." Joseph calls. "She left me the reviewers. Do you want them?"

You turn around to see him making his way towards you. His forest green scarf goes up to his chin, nose and cheeks tinted pink. For the first time, you thought he had looked adorable.

You only nod, putting a hand out and receiving the papers. You skim your eyes through them to make sure that he was actually telling the truth, and gladly he was.

You turn to really walk back home now. After a few steps, you begin to notice the snow crunching behind you. You had to do a double take when you see Joseph's tall figure following.

"Why are you following me?" You stop again, facing him. He halts in surprise, brows raised.

"What? You have the reviewers. I need to review too, you know?" He shrugs.

You stare at him quizzically.

"So?"

"So what?" Joseph asks.

"So why are you following me? I'll just give them to you later in the afternoon."

"No, that'd just be a waste of time. Plus I've got... stuff to do this afternoon."

He rubs the back of his neck and looks away.

"What stuff?"

"Why do you have to know?"

You squint. You don't exactly have an answer for that. You don't even know why you asked.

"What's the plan here?" You don't answer his previous question.

"I review with you at your place."

Joseph. At your place. Your place.

"No!" You exclaim, throwing you hands up. "No way!"

"Why not?!" He mirrors you, scowling a bit.

"Because..." You linger at the reason. Again, you don't know what to say. Seems like that these days.

"Exactly. No answer. Let's go." He walks past you, bumping your shoulder gently. You watch him stride the sidewalk with confidence, looking side to side at the town buildings and shops.

Then he halts. He faces you.

"You coming?" He yells.

Why can't you say words anymore?

Febuary 19, 1966 - 9:38 pm - Your Flat

Thirteen hours. The review lasted for thirteen hours, and it's still going. You've gone through every page, every space, every comma, every period, consonant, vowel, silents letters, dictionaries, and encyclopedias; none of them were enough. You weren't enough.

"I'm a failure." You slump against the side of your bed. "I'm a total, utter failure."

Joseph fell asleep six times through the whole thing. Came right back up each smack from you and a delivery of espressos.

"If you were, you wouldn't be doing all of this." Joseph yawns as he slides down next to you.

You look back at him, smacking his shoulder for the thirty-sixth time. A lot of numbers are being counted.

Joseph hisses. "I'm gonna start to bruise if you keep doing that." He lifts his sleeve up, cuffing it to his collarbone before showing you. "See? It's already turning purple!"

You scoff out a laugh, looking away from embarrassment. The real reason you had looked away was because his arms were so very toned. Especially for a smartass like him. Your cheeks go pink. "Whatever."

He smiles at you, looking down at the floor and pressing a knee to his chin. Spending the whole day with you was not a part of his plan (It was actually exactly the plan, even if he didn't want to admit it, but it went longer than expected, not that he's complaining. He didn't even have a "thing" this afternoon.) His thoughts are cut off by you speaking.

"Wait." You furrow your brows, recounting every bit of information you've received that day. "Didn't you say you had a thing to do this afternoon?"

"Well... yeah but-" You gasp, standing up and grabbing his shoulders all the while. You drag him up and push him towards your door.

"Oh my god! It's already nine! Why didn't you say anything?!" You groan in frustration, continuously pushing Joseph to your living room now.

Joseph yelps as he trips over your red couch, tumbling down on the floor, his head thudding against your coffee table whilst he shouts afterwards. "Ow!"

"Fuck, Joseph!" You stumble on your feet, rushing to his side. There's no bleeding or bruises, surprisingly, but he seems a bit wonky.

"Oh my god, an angel. You're beautiful..." He mutters, hands reaching up to cup your cheeks. Your face feels hot, and you can tell how red you were right now. "I'm in heaven!"

"Get up, asshole!" You smack the same shoulder he was complaining about earlier, earning another hiss from him. He seems to get out of his daze when he locks eyes with you, his face going blank with boredom. "Oh, it's just you."

Your face goes from red of flattery to red of anger. You lift him up once again, going back to your original plan of pushing him out the door.

Once he's out, you slam your front door in front of him, getting a 'hey!' from the other side. After a while, you hear his footsteps retreating. You slide down the door in exhaustion, sliding a hand through your face.

You glance toward the kitchen, the sink full of dishes from earliers lunch. The pans on the stove that you two used to cook, and you remember Joseph burning himself cause he held a hot pan on accident then you having to take care of him afterwards.

You walk back to your bedroom, seeing the scattered papers, pens, and books. You remember finding Joseph lying fast asleep on your pillows, hugging them tightly. And as you tried to wake him up, berating him for his childish manners, he incoherently mutters some words that sounded like 'wait, it smells like you' and 'join me'. Obviously, it's very weird... you guess.

But that's whatever. You won't have to see his face when you go head to college. You won't have to hear his voice, go through those ridiculous pranks, or find him in corners with his friends catching his eye following your moves.

Oh, how you wish you'd see him again.

March 5, 1966 - 7:48 am - Annual SHS English Quiz Bee Semi-Finals

Nothing made sense anymore. Growing up, it had been etched in your mind that you were made for this place. Every test you've aced, every activity you've cooperated in.

So when you receive the letter that you were rejected from your dream college, nothing made sense anymore.

You spaced out so much that day you didn't even hear your mom trying to get you to eat a bit faster, or your dad telling you you arrived. It took them raising their voices and nudging you a bit.

It seemed scary. Nothing made you budge. You were so stuck in your head from disappointment that you couldn't get a grasp of yourself in the real world. You felt stuck-

"Hey."

He didn't need to raise his voice. He didn't need to nudge you. He didn't need to call for you multiple times so you could snap out of your trance. One word was all Joseph needed to get you out of your head.

"Hi." You whisper, trying to get yourself composed once you've realised where you were.

Seats were filling the gymnasium up. Families and friends come in to support their kids. You spot your own parents in the crowd, nodding to them in greeting before your eyes go back to Joseph.

You don't even realise your leg was shaking until Joseph put a palm down on it. You sighed a breath of air you hadn't even known you were holding.

"You better be good, Y/N, or all that reviewing went for nothing."

You couldn't help but laugh at this, but having the rejection in the back of your mind made you have second thoughts.

You really shouldn't try anymore anyway. If your dream college rejected you, why would you even try anymore?

All of these questions came back to your mind, so once again, you're stuck in your trance, but this time, Joseph doesn't snap you out. He knows you'll make sense of it all at your own pace, whatever you're thinking about.

It's like clockwork. One by one, students leave the stage from their loses, each of them wearing a solemn face. And like clockwork, it's the two of you again.

"With only three minutes in the clock, two students both from Voltaire High compete head to head. Who will move on to the finals?" The commentator announces. The audience bounce in their seats in suspense. Your stomach flips over, and you feel like gagging.

Question one was for Joseph. He aced it, looking smug as always when he came back to his seat next to you. Two minutes left.

Question two was for you.

"What is the term used for the second to the last in a series?"

Penultimate. It's Penultimate.

"A. Ultimate,"

It's penultimate.

"B. Penultimate,"

It's B.

"C. Antepenultimate,"

It's B. It's Penultimate.

"Or D. None of the above."

"Letter C."

They know I'm wrong. I know I'm wrong.

Joseph knows I'm wrong.

"Incorrect. The answer is B, penultimate." I knew that. I knew the answer. But it didn't matter anymore. This competition didn't matter. I can't get into the college of my dreams, then I won't try anymore.

"Score is now a tie. The next round will be a speed test with only one minute left on the clock." They bring out papers and desks to our place on the stage. I glance at Joseph, and he's staring at me as if I just grabbed his heart and stomped on it.

"You knew." He says, barely even muttering.

"Knew what?" I squint at him, the bright lights of the spot light hurting my eyes.

"You knew the answer." He doesn't look away. He doesn't look mad. He seems sad about it. Disappointed.

"... yeah." You sigh simply. You couldn't lie to him, seeing as he already knew. In fact, you've spent so much time with him your whole life and you only realised now. He could probably know you more than you know yourself. If only he wasn't so self-absorbed.

"Y/N." You nod in acknowledgement, not daring to face him right now.

"Look at me." His voice got softer, and you help but peek at the worry now displaying on his face. He seems so serious about what he was gonna say.

"You do your best." He purses his lips for a moment, and my throat starts to dry. The way he still wants me to keep going is startling.

"You do your best, or I don't want it." He's so close. Close to winning, close to me. There's a feeling lying under my brain. Under all those studies and all those infuriating words. Like I still want to see him next year. Like I've never wanted to stop looking at his face or hearing his voice.

But I can't. I've gone too far hating him to stop. He sees me as someone who can't stand him, who can't wait to get rid of him. Only now I've thought that maybe I hurt him. Now I care. Now, when it's too late.

So I just nod. And I listen.

And...

"It's a tie..." The commentator murmurs, going over the two pieces of paper me and Joseph finished. Confusion hovers over the crowd, not quite hearing what the commentator said.

"I-It's a tie! The two Voltaire High students have tied!" Gasps spread throughout the people. None of them would've thought this would happen.

"It's just been announced to me there will be a private second tie breaker tomorrow morning, of course, unless one of them backs out." Slowly, almost carefully, cheers and claps echo against the walls of the centre.

This was too much. You'd back out the second you got off. That second started now.

You sped walk to the backstage, trying to find your way to the commentator. Joseph was hot on your tail.

"Y/N! Where are you going?" He yells from the crowd of backstage personell. He speeds up just enough to grab your wrist.

"You're going too fast. Slow do-" The smile wipes off his face when he sees the tears running down your face. His brows crease in worry, searching your eyes for a sign of reason.

"Hey, hey, hey. Why don't we go to a more private area?" He does know you too well.

Autumn in the second grade. When Joseph still loved you and you still hated him. He found you crying in a corner near one of the bathrooms. He walked up to you that day, shrugging off his worry of your fury.

"Hey, are you okay?" He said nonchalantly, trying not to seem genuinely upset at you being genuinely upset.

You look up, teary-eyed. "Go away, Joseph."

Of course, he ignored you. Like stubborn little kids do. And he sits next to you, knees touching each other. Your tiny beating heart couldn't handle the speed of it, but it felt so nice you didn't say anything.

"I like to be alone when I cry, too..." Joseph trails off. "My mommy tells me I can't go out too much because one time a bee bit my eye, and it got puffy. She said I wasn't her beautiful boy anymore and took me to many doctors, just so she could have her beautiful boy back."

You puff out your cheeks, wiping away dried tears from them. You look down at your lap.

"I think you're a beautiful boy always. Even when you're annoying." He scrunches his nose at this.

"I'm not annoying!" He squints his eyes at you, but he sees you laughing, and he doesn't seem annoyed anymore.

He huffs and looks away. "I-I think you're a very beautiful girl, too. Always." He whispers so quietly that even if you were so close, you couldn't hear.

"What?" You say as you sniffle, looking at him with eyes he'd describe as something he'd purposefully drown in.

"N-Nothing!" He stutters out, gets up, and runs away. That was when you thought to yourself for the first time that he wasn't so bad.

You nod at his words, wiping the tears of your face. He took you to a changing room, which was gladly wide enough so you had enough space to relax. The huge couch in it helped, too.

You plop yourself down, sighing heavily. You control your breathing and close your eyes. You feel the couch dip beside you.

"...you wanna talk about it?" Joseph mutters out after a few minutes of silence.

"I'm gonna back out." You say, not bearing to see the way he was looking at you right now. You felt it seep through the room, the way he tensed next to you.

"What do you mean?" There's a shake in his voice that indicates he's unsure.

"I'm backing out." You repeat.

"...why?" You can hear it. He's angry. What does he have to be angry about?

"What do you have to be angry about?" You furrow your brows, getting enough courage to look at his frustrated face. Or worried.

"What do I have to be angry about? Y/N you- You've been talking and reviewing non-stop for this, and suddenly, you're backing out!" He stands and towers over you, and you're back in middle school still hating it.

"Yeah, well, you have no right! Plus, since I'm out, then you're in. You should be celebrating or preparing or whatever the fuck you want to be doing!"

"Why should I be celebrating when all I'm gonna be thinking about is that you're backing out for no fucking reason?!"

"Well then, stop thinking about me! You hate me that much anyway!" Joseph flinches back, a rabid emotion in his eyes.

"You've got to be kidding me." He's muttering to himself again.

"What now?" You groan out, annoyed by his previous habit.

"Me? Hating you? After all the shit we've gone through?"

What does he mean? You squint your eyes at his approaching frame.

"Sure, I hated the way you looked at me sometimes. Or the way you're always so close to beating me. Hell! I hate it when you beat me!"

You back off each step he takes closer, making your back almost near to the wall.

"But I loved you, Y/N. I love you."

No. No, no, no, no, no. No fucking way.

"Yeah. I love you. I hate that I love you. I love you so much that I hate you. The way we are, it's killing me, Y/N. Fucking ripping my heart apart everytime we keep this shit up."

You trip over your feet, the wall thudding as you exhale. A gasp gets caught on your throat when Joseph cages you in.

"You're staying in. I'm gonna go up to the commentator and tell him I'm backing out, and you're staying in. Do you understand?"

You couldn't speak. He was so close. The details you haven't seen in a decade still stay on his face. His beautiful face. Always a beautiful face.

"Do you fucking understand?!" He rasps, shaking your shoulders in desperation. He tugs his head down. "Please..."

"Yes." You couldn't help the crack on your voice. What was happening, whatever it was, you couldn't handle right now.

"Smart girl." He whispers in your ear. Then, he's gone.

March 7, 1966 - 6:32 am - Annual SHS English Quiz Bee Finals

The light patter of rain hits the windows of your car, the windshield wipers squeaking each left and right turn. The car is quiet, only sounds of water falling, and Elvis Presley's "Can't Help Falling in Love" on the radio.

"I've always seen the way he looked at you, you know?" Your father's words fill your ears. You turn your head to the drivers seat where his hands are posted on the wheel.

"What?" You ask. Your father was a man of few words, but he was always there, and always will be.

"Joseph." There's a pang on your chest. "I'm assuming that's why you were in a sour mood while we celebrated?"

You don't acknowledge him. He keeps going.

"Since the first day of school, there was something that drew him to you. Of course, I was a bit sceptical. I mean, you were my little girl. Still my little girl." He chuckles to himself, stopping the car when a road sign comes by.

"Now you're all grown up." He turns his head to look at you, letting go of the steering wheel. You look up at him hesitantly, awaiting what words would come out of his solemn mouth.

"I have to hand it to him. He's a tough kid, waiting all these years and still not trying to steal your heart."

He smacks his lips in thought, shaking his head at whatever was going on in his head.

"I'm not gonna tell you what to do. I'm gonna let you figure all this out. But let me tell you one thing." He leans in close, and you can feel the warmth of his parenthood radiate to you. "He's gonna love the hell out of you. I sure do."

The light goes green, and he drives with caution like a dad always does.

And you sit there because your dad is right. But he's wrong, too.

You always caught Joseph staring. Always caught him lingering near. Throughout preschool, middle, and high. Now college is near and you don't think you can live without that sense of him.

That supports your dad being wrong. Joseph didn't need to try to steal your heart. He already had.

"Stop the car." You blurt out. Your heart's beating more and more rapid, and you can feel it through your chest.

"What?" He mimics a question you asked earlier.

"Dad, stop the car!" The wheels squeel as they stop to the side of the road.

"What's wrong?" Your dad worries, checking to see if you're alright.

"I have to get him." You look at your dad, and all he can see is his little girl with that glimmer in her eyes when she knows what she wants. "I have to get Joseph."

He looks at you. He smiles. "I knew you'd come to your senses."

He turns the car around, heading back to town with a new objective.

And when you get there, the rain pours heavier, your heart drums faster in your ears, and all you can feel is adrenaline.

And all you hear is ringing. Even when he shows up with his head of hair messy and eyes squinting down at you. You answer even when you can't hear.

"Please." You pant. Your senses seem to come back, and you feel the clinging of wet clothes on your body, the rain hitting the porch roof. "Please come."

"Y/N-" You cut him off, grabbing his collar and connecting your lips onto his like a full blow.

Everything feels like it's on fire, the cold you felt earlier gone, and it feels like it would be forever.

You don't wait for him to kiss you back, pulling away with desperation in your eyes mixed with a bit of craze.

Joseph opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out except noises from the back of his throat like he was choking. You slowly let go of his collar, and he pulls away, back to towering over you.

He pulls two fingers up to his lips, his ajar mouth staying in place for so long that you worry if it's hurting yet.

"Wait here." He closes the door, brows furrowed in determination. The door slams, and you flinch just a bit. Not a second later, he's in front of you again, pulling you in to another kiss.

This lasted a bit longer than the other one, a bit rough around the edges from the unexpectancey of it.

"God, you're gonna kill me one day." He pulls away, closing the door again.

6:58 am

The drive there was extremely awkward. You were sat in front of your father, who was oblivious to what had just happened between you and the boy in the backseat. The silence was so tense you could cut it with a knife.

Joseph, bless his pretty heart, took with him spare uniform for you; which of course, you insisted it wouldn't fit, and he said he didn't want to see you sopping wet on the stage. So, here you are now.

"Ready kid?" Your dad asks, adjusting the too large cuffs of Joseph's uniform on your body. You look up at him, lips pursed in focus.

"Ready." You turn your head to look up at Joseph. Your dad seems to get what you want to do, excusing himself to go look for the seats.

"Hey." You say quietly, the bustling noise behind the curtains almost covering it up. Almost.

"Hi." He replies, a small smile upturned on his lips.

You cast a glimpse from the crack between the large curtains, seeing the number of people seated and walking.

"Y/N." Joseph mutters, mouth near your ear, and only then did you notice he had leaned down next to you, taking a look where your eyes were.

"Joseph, look-" He cuts you off with a small peck on your lips.

"Not now. Go focus on this and win like you always do, alright?" He cups your cheek and his hand is so warm you'd have fallen asleep right there and then.

You nod absentmindedly.

"Okay, well, good luck. Except you don't even need it." He winks, leaning back and exiting the backstage. You stay stunned in your place that you hadn't even heard the stage manager calling you to come up.

And then you aced it. All questions answered with no mistake, all glares from opponents ignored. You and the rest of the audience couldn't even believe you with the pace that you were going at. All you knew was you were there to win.

"Last question, Ms. Y/N." Here it goes.

"What is the term used for the second to the last in a series?"

Holy shit.

"A. Ultimate,"

No way.

"B. Penultimate,"

You were gonna win.

"C. Antepenultimate,"

You glance up at the audience, and you catch his eye immediately.

You do your best, or I don't want it.

"B. Penultimate."

"Ms. Y/N L/N, you are the winner of this years SHS English Quiz Bee. Congratulations!"

Cheers erupt in the stadium. Flashes of cameras blind your view, but you could only look at him. Even when the trophy was handed to you, even when the cameramen asked you to look their way.

You quickly handed the award to the competitions administrator, leaping and jumping down the stage to reach him. He was already halfway towards you.

You colide on the stair platform, the impact making him fall on the floor, his arms wrapped securely around you. You clutch on his head to remind yourself that this was real. You had won the Quiz Bee, and you had wont his heart, too.

With the sun almost fully set, the crowd slowly dissipates from the large parking lot. Your father had made his way to start the car, leaving you and Joseph in front of the buildings main entrance.

"So..." You mutter, already know what's about to happen.

"So?" He mirrors, a small smile finding a way into his face.

"Joseph, I'm sorry." Tears pool in your eyes. "I hated you so much, and I was so blind to see that you were right in front of me all along. I care a lot, and even when I was being a bitch you still stayed. How can you even like me still? How did you even like me at all?"

Joseph sighs deeply, hands coming down to hold onto yours. "I don't care about all that stuff anymore. You're here and with me. And hopefully... not hate me anymore?"

You can't help but chuckle. "Oh, I still hate you."

He raises his brows at you. "Well, that's better than nothing, right?"

You scoff with a smile. "You're stupid."

He squints down at you. "Well, if I recall, I almost beat you in the semi-"

You grab his collar and pull him down to a kiss. You don't think you'd ever get rid of that first-time kind of feeling.

He holds you like he doesn't want to let go, but does it so gently as if you'd break the second he grips too hard. And you like it. Because he cares.

Summer in kindergarten. The type of heat that choked you to the point all you wanted was a large watermelon shake to cool you off.

The same summer that was nearing the end of school. The same summer, you overheard your parents talking about moving to someplace else. The same summer you told your friends about it. The same summer Joseph knew he wasn't ready to ever let you go.

He found you in your classroom, hair all tied up whilst you were drawing on a piece of paper. Joseph hadn't ever seen something so beautiful. You were like art he could never take his eyes away from. But that summer he thought he had to, because you were leaving.

"Y/N..." His small voice caught your attention. You look up at this little boy in front of you, his face showing that his heart is currently in his sleeve. You couldn't help but worry.

"Joseph? What's wrong?" Sure you didn't really like the guy, but you were a decent human being.

He sits down next to you, trying to control his breathing. "Don't go." His eyes start to wet, and it gets blurry.

"Joseph, what do you mean?" You furrow your eyebrows, slowly going forward to hold onto his hand.

"Don't go to Italy. Don't leave me. I haven't- I haven't told you about-" how he felt. "Please dont go."

"Joseph, I-" I don't want to go either. "Stop crying..." You're hurting me.

He goes forward and holds you as he sobs on your shoulder. He held you so gently you could've fallen asleep, but so firm that you couldn't even run away. You didn't want to.

That's how Joseph was. He had always loved you. And deep in your heart, you had always loved him too.

>>>>>

A/N: this took me MONTHS???? and im still not satisfied but i need to get this out for bae (sorry it took so long) ummmmm very good very yes, yes? Akeelah and the bee is so cute and lowk so them, they r so messy but wtv guys theyre together now love them. Y/N so stupid but its for the plot guys ok. Hope u guys liked it bcs this took so long for no reason. Happy reading!!!

[jomunson]

50 ed headcanons i been thinking about

1. washes his hair with bar soap

2. doesn't like coffee

3. his father is in jail and his mother passed when he was 11

4. secretly gets really scared when it storms

5. says "hubba bubba"

6. gets super miserable in the summer, he burns super easily

7. swims with goggles and a snorkel

8. wears his hair in a towel when he gets out of the shower

9. super good and confident with flirting with men but really awkward and flustered with flirting with women

10. will say "is this guy bothering you, babe?" if you ever run into furniture

11. love language is words of affirmation, he wants to know you don't see him as a freak

12. sleeps with a garfield plush he's had since he was a boy

13. really bad at fishing, like he'll actually catch a boot when he goes on trips to the creek with wayne

14. burps the abc's

15. took his driving test drunk

16. when he gets home from school he's tired from being a tough guy, he reads a book and smokes before falling asleep

17. thinks people are pranking him when they ask him out

18. wears silly red and pink heart designed boxers

19. really sweet with the kids who live in the trailer park

20. will leave a handful of change as a tip

21. can only cook spaghetti. only spaghetti.

22. biggest fear is the koolaid man coming alive

23. minute man munson (iykyk)

24. will ask people to name 3 songs if their wearing a band tee

25. put lipstick on one time and felt pretty

26. prefers apple juice over orange juice

27. absolutely loves halloween

28. extremely competitive

29. hits people when he's excited/laughing

30. sits really close to the tv like an ipad kid

31. moans while getting beat up to make it awkward

32. extremely allergic to cats but loves them to death

33. birthday is april 19th 1966

34. has skinny dipped w his bros in lovers lake

35. fein for chocolate chip pancakes

36. eats skittles for lunch

37. tried to do a karate kick and ripped his pants once

38. calls his van his baby

39. lifts his leg when he farts and thinks it's peak humor

40. won a goldfish from the fair and fed it crushes doritos for 4 months and cried when it died

41. writes reminders on the palm of his hand and it gets smeared on his face

42. always cuts his face when he shaves on accident

43. when he draws and has to erase he does it so hard it rips holes in the paper

44. feels cool because he doesn't carry around a backpack at school

45. scared of moths

46. has lost pencils in his hair

47. flips his boxers inside out so he can wear them longer

48. has to be told to shower

49. tried to pierce his ears and sobbed and then they got infected

50. his nose gets the brightest red in the winter

[sissylittlefeather]

Your Love's Been a Long Time Coming: Chapter 7

A/N: I told you I'd be rolling the rest of these out pretty quickly. Please don't give up on these two...

Need to catch up? Masterlist here.

Warnings: a head injury, lots of angst

Word count: ~1.7k

Reminder: this is FICTION. Please do not come at me if your favorite people don't act the way you think they would/should or if events are a little altered. It's called fanFICTION for a reason. Thanks 😬

Vivian is gone. He proposes to Priscilla in December of 1966.

******

In the early spring of 1967, Elvis and Priscilla go shopping together in California. Elvis knows their wedding is coming and he tries hard not to think about the fact that he does not want to get married. Instead, he tries to focus on Priscilla. He does love her. Maybe this won't be as bad as he's afraid it might be.

And then they hit a stoplight next to a billboard. Elvis's mouth drops open. Priscilla groans.

"You have got to be kidding me."

Elvis is in awe. It's Vivian. She's in a cigarette ad on the billboard, right there. It's been so long since he's seen her that there's a sharp pain in his heart. He remembers how they ended and is overwhelmed with regret. Why didn't he chase after her?

"The light is green." That's why. He looks over at Priscilla in the passenger seat and steps on the gas, letting Viv fade away behind them.

"I wonder how she's doing. I guess she's doing pretty well if she's on a billboard."

"Elvis..."

"I should call her."

"No, you really shouldn't." He can feel Priscilla bristling at the thought of him reconnecting with Viv.

"I just want to congratulate her on her modeling success, Cil."

"I'm sure. No. I'm not letting you turn her into your new Ann Margaret."

"She was around long before Ann." He says it under his breath, but she hears him and sighs deeply.

"You're not helping your case."

"Priscilla, if I want to call her, I will." She purses her lips and looks out the window. He looks through the windshield determined. She's not his wife yet. And even if she was, he's a man and he'll decide who he wants in his life and when.

Priscilla doesn't say another word about it when they get back to the house in Bel Air. In fact, she doesn't say anything to him at all. They get in bed in silence and he lays there wide awake, his thoughts racing, but mostly focused on one thing: Viv. It's been years since he's seen her, and he's definitely thought about her from time to time, but he has no idea where she is or what she's up to. She could be married for all he knows. That thought makes his stomach turn. He tries to think back to the billboard and whether she was wearing a ring. But they probably would've made her take it off anyway. Was there a subtle tan line?

He's overthinking this and he knows it. He needs something to take his mind off of Vivian and what happened the last time they were together. More flashes have come back to him since the event, holding her foot in his hand and kissing her ankle, her running her fingers through his hair, the way she tasted, and all it does is make him miss her more. He decides to go to the bathroom and try to read or watch TV. But as he slides out of bed and makes his way into the tiled sanctuary, he catches the cord to the television and everything goes black.

******

When he comes to, his head is pounding and throbbing and there's a lump the size of a golf ball on his head.

"Fuck! Goddamnit!" He writhes on the floor in pain, yelling cuss words. Next thing he knows, Priscilla is in the doorway.

"Elvis! What happened?!"

"I fucking fell! I think I really hurt myself. Goddamnit. It hurts." Priscilla runs to call the doctor and the rest of the important people in Elvis's life. As he lays on the bathroom floor in pain, he sees things that frighten him, but the most noticeable is his mother. He must be dying. That's all there is to it. And if this is the end, there's only one person he wants. "Vivian!"

Priscilla comes back into the bathroom where he lays on the floor.

"Did you call for me?"

"No. Where is Vivian?" She swallows hard and looks down at him on the floor.

"She's not here Elvis. I'm here."

"No. Get her. Please. Now."

"Elvis, I-" Just then the doctor arrives, closely followed by other members of the Memphis mafia. They get him back into his bed, but he doesn't lay still. He rolls around in pain, clutching different parts of his body. The doctor diagnoses him with a concussion and he's advised to stay in bed for a few days. The guys file in to see him and make sure he's okay. Priscilla sits next to the bed silently.

"Is there anything you need? Anything we can get you?" Sonny asks sincerely. Elvis grabs the front of his shirt and pulls him close. He whispers in his ear.

"Get Vivian. Please. I need her." Sonny nods, understanding his assignment.

"You got it, boss."

The Colonel arrives and surveys the damage. He pulls Priscilla aside.

"How is he, really?"

"He's in a lot of pain. He keeps asking for that girl, Vivian." The Colonel looks into her face seriously. He shakes his head.

"It is imperative that he doesn't see her. He needs to know that he has you. Your marriage is scheduled for less than two months from today. It would destroy his image to bring her back into the picture. Can you handle this?" Priscilla gives him a determined look.

"I can."

******

When Sonny calls her, Vivian is too in shock to respond immediately.

"He what?!"

"He fell and hit his head. It's not good, Vivian. And he's asking for you."

"For me?!"

"Yes. You have to come."

"Come pick me up." She gives him her address and waits nervously. It doesn't matter how long they've been apart. If he calls for her, she comes running. That'll never change.

She rides with Sonny to the Bel Air house, the whole time preparing herself for what might happen when she arrives. What she never expects, though is to be absconded by Priscilla the second she walks through the door.

"Hey, Priscilla. I heard he was asking for me?"

"I'm not sure who told you that, but it's not true. The only person he's asked for is me." Viv's eyes narrow. She doesn't trust Priscilla as far as she can throw her.

"Sonny said-" She's cut off by Priscilla grabbing her hands in her lap.

"He's my fiancé."

"I know that, but he's also my friend."

"Vivian. He's going to be my husband soon. You confuse him and you know it. Why would he call for you? I'm asking you to leave now. Please. For me." Vivian looks at her in shock.

"You're not going to let me see him, are you?"

"It's for his own good, Viv." She stands up and turns back to Priscilla.

"My name is Vivian. He's the only one who calls me Viv." She looks around uncertainly. "You know, you and I were friends once. Will you at least tell him I was here?"

"Of course. Now, will you please go?" Vivian nods slowly, walking to the front door. Why would Sonny say he had asked for her if he hadn't? But maybe Priscilla was right. He didn't need her confusing him.

Still, she makes it outside before she completely falls apart. When she does, she's surprised to find strong, warm arms around her. She looks up into his face.

"Sonny?"

"I've got you, honey." She lets her legs go out from under her as Sonny lifts her into his arms. He carries her to his car and places her gently in the passenger seat. She lets him drive her back to her apartment and carry her up the stairs.

He stays with her for the next two days, providing the comfort she so desperately needs.

Something blooms inside her for Sonny as she finally resigns herself to the fact that Elvis will be married soon and there's nothing she can do about it.

Does she fall in love with Sonny? She doesn't not love him. So when he proposes three years later, she decides she loves him enough. Why would she say no? Elvis is happily married with a child and she's almost 30. What does she have to lose?

******

When Elvis comes out of his post-concussion haze a few weeks later, he turns to Priscilla and asks one last time.

"Vivian?"

"She didn't come. She seems to be happy with Sonny."

"Sonny?!" His heart breaks one last time. This is what she was doing when he needed her most? He doesn't need her anymore.

He marries Priscilla in May of '67 and Lisa Marie is born in '68. He does the Singer Special and things finally start to look up for him. His career is reignited and he's happy-ish with Priscilla.

But in 1971, when Sonny comes to him and asks him to be his best man as he marries Vivian, Elvis spends more time than he should shooting guns in the shed. Thankfully, no one bothers him or they'd see the tears of rage and envy and something else he doesn't want to think about as they slide down his face.

Their conversation is over before it even started. And after this they'll never talk again.

******

Until Chapter 8

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @jhoneybees @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia

[uwmspeccoll]

Decorative Sunday with Henry P. Kirby

These charming sketches are the work of New York architect Henry P. Kirby (1853 - 1915). Architectural Compositions contains fifty loose plates printed on Whatman paper and housed in a portfolio. It was published in Boston in 1892 by Bates, Kimball & Guild, publishers of one of the United State’s leading architectural journals of that time, The Architectural Review (Boston), not to be confused with the longer running Architectural Review still in publication out of London. 

Kirby would have been working as a draftsman for George B. Post at the time of publication, for whom he later worked as lead designer before striking out on his own. Some of the subject matter also evokes Kirby’s time in France, where he studied at the École des Beaux-Arts after training with his father, also an architect. Per the subtitle, some of the sketches were “made in connection with actual projects,” while many were “the result of study during leisure moments.” I found Kirby’s eye for the human elements in his sketches particularly endearing, from the foreground figures to details on the buildings themselves, like open widows and overgrown foliage, or what looks like a duvet cover hanging out to dry (first image above). 

For any music buffs reading, the final sketch includes some bars of "Très-jolie" from the opéra comique smash hit La Fille de Madame Angot. 

Our copy of Architectural Compositions was gifted to UWM by Gustav A. Elgeti in 1966. 

Find more Decorative Sunday posts here.

-Olivia, Special Collections Graduate Intern

[satureja13]

Cloudy sky above Verdantis this morning. Before Greg leaves, he gathered the Boys at the duelling grounds. And since Jack is the Super Soldier (and has a few genetic modifications), he's the perfect sparring partner/training dummy for Vlad, Saiwa and Jeb. Ji Ho and Kiyoshi don't fight today since they are still not in shape. Vlad and Jack started. The classic - Vampire vs Werewolf.

It's not about winning. Jack can defeat anyone, except for Greg and Kiyoshi. But since Kiyoshi isn't Jack's Alpha anymore, Jack should win a fight against Kiyoshi too. So today it's about teaching the others how to fight, should they be in danger.

Next pairing is Saiwa and Jack. Again the classic (+ 1\2 Dark Elf). Saiwa: "Oh - I've been waiting for a chance like this since - forever!" Jeb can't bear Saiwa getting hurt and has to look the other way.

Even though Sai loves Jack dearly, he often wishes he could smack him for his endless nonsense. Usually Jack runs away and Sai could never hit him, but he hopes he can land a few punches before Jack ends the fight ^^' Jack seemed to know that and let him, lol. Poor Jeb was so worried about his Vanië, though.

And then Jack vs Jeb - Werewolf vs Witch. It was Jeb's first fight! Saiwa was about to faint, seeing Jeb fighting. It looks so rough! Is Jeb even able to breathe?

Oh oh, Jeb isn't used to fighting and so he got a bit dizzy from all this tumbling and turning - and stumbled to the ground! Jack: "Omg, Jeb! Are you ok?" Sai: "I'm going to kill you for this, Jack!"

But Jeb almost immediately jumped up again - phew! That was embarrasing o.o' He so wanted to look cool in front of Saiwa - poor Jack didn't even do anything wrong! After the fights, they were discussing what they could do better and how to proceed training without Greg (since none of the professors can remain beyond the Veil for too long). Greg wants to see Noxee as soon as possible to make the most of their time together before she has to pay the old hags the three witches a visit to discuss Jack and Kiyoshi. And when Greg finally left, poor Jack collapsed on one of the loungers. The fights took their toll on him. Jack tried to keep his composure for as long as possible to not have to argue with Greg about the state he's in. His body is still constantly under pain from the last spot and he feels horrible since that lightning struck him. Noxee's potion didn't help at all and of course he didn't go back to her to whine because he doesn't want her to think he's a weakling... (Omg, Jack!) And he's afraid she's going to tell Greg about it ö.Ö' Jack surely doesn't need another talk with Greg. Even though Kiyoshi drifted away again after Ms Coombes forbid them to hang out together, he was immediately at Jack's side to heal him. Jack won all the fights, but none of the others needed a treatment. He'd gone easy on his friends. Which was an achievement for itself. Not many werewolves have that much control over their wolf - in a fight at that.

Saiwa blinked upwards. He has to hold back tears and already regrets that he hit Jack 😭 And Jeb wants to embrace and comfort Sai, but he's not sure if he would allow it...

Eventually Jack woke up and cursed under his breath. He doesn't want to appear weak in front of Kiyoshi either. And he doesn't want Kiyoshi to see him in his wolf... (Which is stupid, since Kiyoshi made very clear that he likes Jack in both of his forms.)

'And then we lie, beneath a shady tree I love her and she's loving me She feels good, she knows she's looking fine I'm so proud to know that she is mine'

Good day sunshine - The Beatles

Outtakes

I built this lot many years ago and had to laugh when I spotted that mannequin I placed behind the divider ^^'

And Ji Ho is curious what these ointments and potions are for :3

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter: 'Here comes the Sun' from the beginning ▶️ here Last Chapter: 'Who killed Jack?' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-28

[crepesuzette2023]

“To the best of our ability Paul!”: The Paperback Writer session [and fashion show]

By Johnny Dean. From: The Beatles Book Monthly, Issue 35. June 1966.

As we walked down the corridor towards E.M.I.’s No. 2 studio (where else would one go when sitting-in on a Beatles recording session), the commissionaire pointed out to us that the boys were in No. 3 instead. So we made our way back to the front of the building and as we approached the studio door, the red light went on—which meant that they were recording. So we waited for them to finish. Three minutes later we walked in.

On entering the studio, we found John and Paul surrounded by a mass of equipment—most significant of all, were their new massive amplifiers. Paul was clad in his distinctive casual recording gear of black trousers, black moccasin-type shoes, white shirt with fawn stripes, a black sleeveless pullover and to top it all orange—tinted specs. John sported green velvet trousers, a blue buttoned up wool vest and black suede boots.

The basic track of "Paperback Writer" had been recorded the previous day, and now John and Paul were working out a detailed backing. Paul was perched on a stool thumbing away at a red and white Rickenbacker guitar, (moving with the music as he does on stage) whilst the Iyrics boomed through the studio speakers—so we were very honoured at being the first to hear their new single besides George Martin and of course, the Beatles.

We then spotted Ringo's head behind the screen in the far corner—he was playing chess with Neil. So we walked over. "Who's winning?", I asked. "Neil's the expert”, Ringo replied, and went back to the chess board to concentrate on how to get his king out of danger from an attack by Neil's bishop and castle.

The music stopped. George Martin came into the studio from the control room to have a tete-a-tete with Paul as to what they could do to improve the backing.

"What are you trying to do with this one?", I asked Paul. "Have you heard the lyrics?", came the reply. "Yes, I think it's very unusual”. "The trouble is", said Paul,"That we've done everything we can with four people, so it's always a problem to ring the changes and make it sound different. That's why we have got all these guitars and equipment here." That must have been the understatement of the year, because the studio was littered with pianos, grand pianos, amplifiers, guitars, percussion instruments, and other odd bits and pieces which were strewn over the studio floor.

The studio was sectioned-off with brown canvas screens and what seemed like thousands of black cables running from the amps and other electrical equipment to the control room over the heavily marked wooden floor. To stop the echo, E.M.I. have covered some of the floor with old carpets.

The big heavy sound-proof door which stops any of the noise of the outside world seeping into the studio, burst open, and in strolled George looking very elegant in his Mongolian lamb fur coat with black cap and oblong metal specs.

He was obviously on top of the world and bubbling over with enthusiasm, ready to record a dozen numbers. He threw his coat along side Paul's fur jacket and got down to work out the backing with John and Paul.

John, George and George Martin huddled round Paul, who was seated at the piano trying to work out a bass bit, before asking George Martin to play it. John leaned on the piano while he listened to Paul's ideas for a while. Then he picked up his orange Gretsch guitar and proceeded to pick away at it. At the same time Paul transferred to a Vox organ.

Although John and Paul were both working on the song together, it was originally Paul's idea. He asked the engineer to play it back at half speed so that John and George could do some vocal bits.

They were now all set to go. George Martin gave the O.K. The recording light went on and the basic sound track was played back through the "cans" they each had clamped over their heads. They did several takes. John and George hit some very high notes, but their voices kept cracking. "I don't think I can make it" said George, "unless I have a cup of tea. Where’s Mal?”

Right on cue at the end of the fourth take Mal emerged into the studio laden with tea, biscuits and something very special—toast and strawberry jam. Everything was immediately dropped and a sudden swoop was made on the toast and jam. Ringo, who was still in the corner trying to work out his next move, only got one piece of toast, so Mal offered to make another batch as it had proved so popular.

Meanwhile Beatles Book photographer Leslie Bryce was clicking away.

After the toast and jam had been devoured it was back to work. Paul suddenly got an inspiration he dived across to the piano and started playing bits of "Free Jacques" he was highly delighted at the thought of having it in the new single.

"O.K. let's try it", said George Martin. So John and George gathered round the mike and off they went. But it was a false start. Paul's head appeared over the top of the piano and he queried "Did you come in at the right place?". "We can't hear it properly" , said John, "anyway I thought that was the end of it.” George promptly told him it was the beginning!

After they had finished taping these bits, the tracks were played back into the studio while everyone listened in silence. George Martin was the first to speak-"I think that the best thing we've added are the 'Frere Jacques’ bits. Ringo who had finally beaten Neil at a game of chess by check-mating him in several brilliant moves involving a queen, a bishop and a castle, said that he thought John and Paul sounded as though they were singing through water! Highly uncomplimentary, so Paul then made for the organ once again and started to work out a sound which resembled that of Scottish bag pipes.

John then came swooping across the studio and shouted out—“You've got it. You've got it". Paul then started dum-dee-dumming away at everyone else—it was just like a scene from "My Fair Lady”!

George Martin appeared over John's shoulder and said "I see what you mean”. Paul announced that someone else should play it—meaning George Martin. John and George then went back to their mikes and added the vocals over the top.

After the first track Paul looked over the top of the piano and asked John and George if they were singing it right.

George turned round, lowered his glasses to the tip of his nose and looked down at Paul in a typical school-masterish fashion and said "To the best of our ability Paul!" And so the boys went on getting the sound that you will hear on "Paperback Writer��.

It was a long session. It took something like ten hours to record because the Beatles insisted on sticking at it until they were completely satisfied that they can do no more.

When you listen to "Paperback Writer" bear in mind what went on beforehand to achieve this really great sound, and I'm sure you'll appreciate it all the more.

"The very first shot of Paul we took when we arrived in the studio." (Photo by Leslie Bryce)

"Paul's hit on something. Waving his 'ciggie' he dee-dums his way through the bit he's just thought up while George sings with him." (Photo by Leslie Bryce)

Ringo's chess pieces and John's green velvet trousers. (Photos by Leslie Bryce)

[ricky-tiki-tah]

Some more for the Glamrock Freddy Through the Ball Pit au

Afton family history:

William Afton left England at 18 (1966) to get away from his parents and go to collage in America. He’s studying engineering.

William and Henry share an apartment and a love of machines. It’s not long before they’re plotting to open a restaurant with animatronics. The sketches and beginnings of Freadbear and Springbonnie begin.

William meets Carmen Hernandez in 1968. Carmen is en route to becoming an actress. She introduces Ada Jones (later Ada Emily) to Henry later that year.

Carmen gets pregnant so William marries her, and Michael Fritz Afton is born in 1970.

Carmen leaves Mike and William in 1971, a couple months after Michael’s first birthday, not wanting to be tied down with kids before her acting career even starts.

William and baby Mike move in with Henry and a now pregnant Ada. Ada watches Michael while William and Henry get Fredbear’s Diner up and running.

Ada introduces William to Clara Durand in 1973. They get married a year later. Mike is 4, Charlotte “Charlie” is 2 and a very cute flower girl.

Elizabeth Adeline Afton is born in 1975.

Evan James Afton is born in 1976.

Ada and Claire are in a car accident, hit by a drunk driver and die in 1978. By now the diner is booming.

[echantedtoon]

Demonstober Day 20 Mothman

Mothman is a legendary, winged, humanoid creature from West Virginia folklore that is said to have been seen in the Point Pleasant area from 1966 to 1967. 

Tagging: @lavenderdropp @six-eyed-samurai @trancylovecraft @shadyd3ar @cherrysuzaku

@nousija @mspurpl3

Remember if you want to be added to the spooktober taglist lemme know

The night of terror had only just begun for you.

No matter how fast you ran, you couldn't escape the creature behind you chasing you demanding that you return to him NOW. You weren't going to go back to the thing that kidnapped you out of your open bedroom window.

You awakened with a gasp, bolting up and panting as you pushed yourself up from the bed you laid upon.

The night feeling chilly as your hands came up to your face as you groaned and rubbed it. Man...What a weird dream. That giant dragon looked too real and frightful. Your mom was right. You had to stop staying up so late. Judging by how dark it was, it must've only been a few hours into the night. Well at least you could go back to sleep now-...You paused when your weight shifted and the soft bed was suddenly rough and-....stick like?? Like you were laying upon a bunch of branches and twigs. Opening your eyes, you strained to adjust to the dark surrounding you and suddenly realized with a jolt, you were feeling cold because you WERE OUTSIDE!!! You stared as moonlight seeped through from the giant moon above you lighting up what looked like to be a forest, and you were at the very top of a tree on something flat and made of sticks. ...This was NOT your bedroom. As your mind tried to figure out how you could've possibly ended up in a tree in the middle of no where, your luck instantly got WORSE when something BIG blocked the moon as it's shadow loomed over you. You're blood went cold and body froze as whatever it was shifted above you. As if you were in a horror movie, your body acted on it's own as you turned around and looked up the black body of the winged beast that somehow didn't break the tree top with how BIG it was. And your eyes went small.

A. GIANT. FIGURE. WAS. STARING. AT. YOU!!!

It didn't seem too happy either as it suddenly snapped it's arms out and delivered what could only be described as a mix between a fox shriek and a lion roar. You screamed, both voices echoing out throughout the forest and scrambled back-

"AAAHHHH!!"

Your arms flailed out as you suddenly went backwards and down you went over the edge. Your screams of tumbling down from a tree were cut short as it felt like you hit every single branch on your way down. Pain exploded everywhere your body made contact with the branches until finally with a final thud, your body fell hard onto soft grass. Knocking the air out of your lungs and you gasping for air on your side. Your body was in pain from everywhere your body hit the tree and you were sure it would leave bruises and scratches later. You coughed and gasped for air, lungs burning but you nearly stopped breathing again when the same call came from the thing above making your body feel like it was dipped in ice as your heartbeats sore. Adrenaline kicked in know as your body wobbled and felt so light, not to mention hurt, as you forced yourself to stand and start walk-running away, swaying as you still gasped for air but your panicked state didn't care about the pain or anything as you somehow quickly got your balance back and started running through the dark. The sounds and darkness of the forest blocked almost all moonlight as you blindly ran to try and get away from the giant demon monster, to keep from being eaten. You ran...and ran...and ran blindly in the dark with your hands in front of you barefoot. Branches and other plants hitting your legs and face as you did, the sounds of the bird thing behind you disappearing as you kept running. At one point you had the brilliant idea to look behind you to see if anything was following you-

"AH!"

Your foot once again got caught on something. You screamed as your body went tumbling head over heels down a hill in the dark. Your already sore and hurt body becoming even more so as you rolled and rolled and rolled until you finally came to a stop at the bottom of it onto your back, with your body facing the sky. Your vision swam and your head spun as you stared up dizzily at the sky as your vision blurred. Everything went around and around in circles until something looked down at you blocking out the moon and stars. Red eyes boring into yours.

"This game of chase was quite annoying but I do think you put up quite a bit of a good fight "

Your vision finally refocused until you finally got a look at what was tickling your cheeks. Blood red eyes with nothing stared at you. A lumbering mass in similar build to a fairy but MUCH more evil stared down at you intently with the focus of a hungry lion spotting a wounded deer. Antenna twitching peeked up high end a large smile full of just as scary fangs in a similar style to a Cheshire cat. The large head tilted at you and you discovered that the thing tickling your face was the longer bottom of those fuzzy moth wings as they slowly fluttered back and forth. His entire body was entirely black except where it dipped into greys. The dark black claw that curiously nudged your forehead when you didn't respond to him was an example of that scary appearance. He chuckled as you froze up in fear.

"Don't worry, Darling. You'll have plenty of time to make it up to me later.~"

[justforbooks]

The actor Lou Gossett Jr, who has died aged 87, is best known for his performance in An Officer and A Gentleman (1982) as Gunnery Sergeant Emil Foley, whose tough training transforms recruit Richard Gere into the man of the film’s title. He was the first black winner of an Academy Award for best supporting actor, and only the third black actor (after Hattie McDaniel and Sidney Poitier) to take home any Oscar.

The director, Taylor Hackford, said he cast Gossett in a role written for a white actor, following a familiar Hollywood trope played by John Wayne, Burt Lancaster, Victor McLaglen or R Lee Ermey, because while researching he realised the tension of “black enlisted men having make-or-break control over whether white college graduates would become officers”. Gossett had already won an Emmy award playing a different sort of mentor, the slave Fiddler who teaches Kunta Kinte the ropes in Roots (1977), but he was still a relatively unknown 46-year-old when he got his breakthrough role, despite a long history of success on stage and in music as well as on screen.

Born in Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn, Louis was the son of Helen (nee Wray), a nurse, and Louis Sr, a porter. As a child he suffered from polio, but became a high school athlete before a basketball injury led to his joining the drama club. His teacher encouraged him to audition professionally, and at 17 he was on Broadway playing a troubled child in Take a Giant Step, which won him a Donaldson award for best newcomer.

He won a drama scholarship to New York University, but continued working, in The Desk Set (1955), and made his television debut in two episodes of the NBC anthology show The Big Story. In 1959 he was cast with Poitier and Ruby Dee in Raisin in the Sun, and made his film debut reprising his role in 1961. On Broadway that year he played in Jean Genet’s The Blacks, in an all-star cast with James Earl Jones, Cicely Tyson, Roscoe Lee Brown, Godfrey Cambridge and a young Maya Angelou; it was the decade’s longest-running show.

Gossett was also active in the Greenwich Village folk music scene. He released his first single Hooka Dooka, Green Green in 1964, followed by See See Rider, and co-wrote the anti-war hit Handsome Johnny with Richie Havens. In 1967 he released another single, a drums and horns version of Pete Seeger’s anti-war hymn Where Have All the Flowers Gone. He was in the gospel musical Tambourines to Glory (1963) and in producer Mike Todd’s America, Be Seated at the 1964 New York World’s Fair.

His plays became more limited: The Zulu and the Zayda and My Sweet Charlie; the very short run of Carry Me Back to Morningside Heights, in which he played a black man owning a white slave; and a revival of Golden Boy (1964), with Sammy Davis Jr. His final Broadway part was as the murdered Congolese leader Patrice Lamumba, in Conor Cruise O’Brien’s Murderous Angels (1971). Gossett had played roles in New York-set TV series such as The Naked City, but he began to make a mark in Hollywood, despite LAPD officers having handcuffed him to a tree, on “suspicion”, in 1966.

On TV he starred in The Young Rebels (1970-71) set in the American revolution. In film, he was good as a desperate tenant in Hal Ashby’s Landlord (1970) and brilliant with James Garner in Skin Game (1971), taking part in a con trick in which Garner sells him repeatedly into slavery then helps him to escape.

In 1977, alongside Roots, he attracted attention as a memorable villain in Peter Yates’s hit The Deep, and got artistic revenge on the LAPD in Robert Aldrich’s The Choirboys. The TV movie of The Lazarus Syndrome (1979) became a series in which Gossett played a realistic hospital chief of staff set against an idealistic younger doctor. He played the black baseball star Satchel Paige in the TV movie Don’t Look Back (1981); years later he had a small part as another Negro League star, Cool Papa Bell, in The Perfect Game (2009).

After his Oscar, he played another assassinated African leader, in the TV mini-series Sadat, reportedly approved for the role by Anwar Sadat’s widow Jihan. Though he remained a busy working actor, good starring roles in major productions eluded him, as producers fell back on his drill sergeant image. He was Colonel “Chappy” Sinclair in Iron Eagle (1986) and its three dismal sequels.

But in 1989 he starred in Dick Wolf’s TV series Gideon Oliver, as an anthropology professor solving crimes in New York. And he won a best supporting actor Golden Globe for his role in the TV movie The Josephine Baker Story (1991). He revisited the stage in the film adaptation of Sam Shepard’s Curse of the Starving Class (1994).

Gossett twice received the NAACP’s Image Award, and another Emmy for producing a children’s special, In His Father’s Shoes (1997). In 2006 he founded the Eracism Foundation, providing programmes to foster “cultural diversity, historical enrichment and anti-violence initiatives”. Despite an illness eventually linked to toxic mould in his Santa Monica home, he kept working with a recurring part in Stargate SG-1 (2005-06). A diagnosis of prostate cancer in 2010 hardly slowed him down.

Most recently, he played Will “Hooded Justice” Reeves in the TV series Watchmen (2019), in the series Kingdom Business, about the gospel music industry, and in the 2023 musical remake of The Color Purple.

His first marriage, to Hattie Glascoe, in 1967, was annulled after five months; his second, to Christina Mangosing, lasted for two years from 1973; and his third, to Cyndi (Cynthia) James, from 1987 to 1992. He is survived by two sons, Satie, from his second marriage, and Sharron, from his third.

🔔 Louis Cameron Gossett Jr, actor, born 27 May 1936; died 28 March 2024

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[krispyweiss]

Abracadabra: Steve Miller Turns 80

Whether one calls him the Gangster, the Space Cowboy, the Joker or something else, Steve Miller has added a new honorific - octogenarian - to his resume.

Miller, born Oct. 5, 1943 - abracadabra! - turns 80 today. As Miller once said, time keeps on slippin’, slippin’, slippin’ into the future, so show that man the pompatus of love.

Flying like a psychedelic eagle out of San Francisco with his eponymous Blues Band in 1966, Miller would soon enough drop the Blues to take the money and run with a string of hits throughout the 1970s.

Still one of classic-rock radio’s ubiquitous and unique voices, Miller is sure to keep on rockin’ me - and you, baby - as long as radio continues livin’ in the U.S.A.

10/5/23

[scotianostra]

Happy birthday to singer Lulu born in East Dunbartonshire November 3rd 1948.

Born as Marie McDonald McLaughlin Lawrie in Lennoxtown, young Marie was brought up in Dennistoun, Glasgow, where she attended Thomson Street Primary School and Onslow Drive School.She lived in Gallowgate for a while before moving to Garfield Street, Dennistoun. At the age of 12 or 13, she and her manager approached a band called the Bellrocks seeking stage experience as a singer. She appeared with them every Saturday night: Alex Thomson, the group’s bass player, has reported that even then her voice was remarkable. She has two brothers and a sister, and her father was a heavy drinker.At age 14, she received the stage name “Lulu” from her future manager Marion Massey, who commented: “Well, all I know is that she’s a real lulu of a kid.”

Lulu went on to earn her place in the spotlight in May 1964, with her standout version of The Isley Brothers’ tune “Shout.” At the time, she was part of the group the Luvvers. However, after a few more chart toppers, Lulu decided to venture out as a solo artist. In 1966, she went on a tour with the Hollies that included a concert in Poland, which made Lulu the first female singer from the British Isles to sing live behind the Iron Curtain, as it was then.

A year later, though, was when Lulu really made an international splash as both a singer and an actress. She appeared in the 1967 film To Sir, With Love alongside Sidney Poitier. She belted out the film’s theme song (which had the same title as the movie) in a memorable scene. The song skyrocketed to No. 1 on the charts in America. Lulu also was joint winner of The Eurovision Song contest with Boom Bang-a-Bang, a top 20 song worldwide. She is the only female singer to have appeared on Top of the Pops in the shows five decades.

Back home she continued with more hits and TV appearances and in 1968, she hosted her own BBC 1 TV series, Happening for Lulu. In 1969 aged 19 she got hitched to Bee Gees band member Maurice Gibb, the marriage failed ad they divorced four years later. Lulu attributed in various interviews to Gibb’s rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle and excessive drinking. In 1977, the singer tied the knot with hairdresser John Frieda. Their union lasted 20 years and produced one son, Jordan Frieda. Lulu has admitted in press interviews and in her 2002 memoir I Don’t Want to Fight that she was also romantically linked to the late Davy Jones of the Monkees and the iconic performer David Bowie.

In 2008 Lulu was one of a number of Scottish celebrities that featured in the advertising campaign for Homecoming Scotland and in In August 2014, she opened the closing ceremony of the 2014 Glasgow Commonwealth Games. At aged 69 Lulu joined the cast of 42nd Street in a 16 week run. She has said in the past she “will never retire” and sure looks like living up to that as I saw her on TV just this week, however- she is now doing , what has been called a farewell tour, although it is being billed as a 'Champagne For Lulu' tour. There are ten dates left in the tour which finishes off at The Usher Hall in Edinburgh.

Lulu is also filming i biopic of her life and finishing writing her autobiography, oh she also played Glastonbury earlier this year, I don't think we have seen the last of her yet. Here she is at a Hogmanay show in 2018 into 2019.

[siryouarebeingmocked]

Someone recently claimed that the new Davies era of doctor who has no more wokism* than the show used to.

Now, maybe I've just changed in the past few decades, but from what I've heard of the 60th anniversary specials it does seem a tad more concentrated. Cherry-picking SPOILERS, sweeties.

- Donna got married offscreen. To what I can only assume is the last black cab driver in London.

- Her kid is trans. Specifically, non-binary, female presenting, says the wiki.** - In the next episode, we learn the Doctor is gay/bi when he thinks Sir Isaac Newton is hot. I'd smugly say this bit has no real relevance, but...the actual scene does carry the episode theme of accidentally changing reality. It's just the queer bit that seems tacked on. Though it does carry forward themes from 10s era. - Sir Zack himself is played by a half-Indian actor. It's not exactly hard to tell. I'm assuming they're running on Bridgerton logic. https://twitter.com/frozenaesthetic/status/1731332492282429950 - This episode is basically just Donna and the Doc exploring a weird location, and running into monsters, who happen to look like them. It would be a bottle episode, except for the large vfx budget. And yet ol' Rusty somehow managed to awkwardly wedge in an  progressive issue. - In the next episode, the villain explains how he's just exploiting the divisions that already exist in human society, including cancel culture. - no wait he's got a point. Jpg - This is ironic, given that Davies and/or his broadcasting house masters are pretty blatantly on the team that a) coined the word,  b) cancels people the most often, and c) defends the idea of Internet lynch mobs*** (***as long as they're left wing. If not, they're *ist "trolls", even if they're just complaining about the latest sacred cow.) Maybe the Davies was criticizing his own team. * Because the Toymaker was kind of racist back in the day (white dude dressed like a stereotypical Chinese dude), Davies made the new version a bit racist "as a callback to his original, problematic depiction back in 1966." - TVtropes, ref. DW Unleashed. On the other hand, the Toymaker also mocks and dresses as several other cultural archetypes. All the ones I've seen were white European ones. He just does this to everyone, apparently. - Toymaker also weaponizes the Spice Girls hit "Spice Up Your Life". No, I will not explain. Though I will note that a line about the "Yellow man in Timbuktu" was apparently drowned out in the episode. Probably for being a tad spicy. - One new UNIT character is a lady in a wheelchair. When the new Tardis - no, I will not explain - has a wheelchair ramp, she happily points it out. Which makes me wonder why the blue box would be so limited, considering it often deals with alien species. - Also, the same actress played a disabled Companion in the Big Finish audio dramas. I'm not sure why it was considered essential to do so in an entirely audio format, but there have been controversies over this sort of thing before (EG Artie on Glee, various racial voice acting controversies). - At this point, casting Ncuti Gatwa as 15 doesn't even register. Not really a blip on my radar. Black Doc? Whatevs. His sonic screwdriver has Rwandan words on it? So? I go to church with lots of Africans. Heck, I'm a black immigrant to ol' Blighty myself, just from the other side of the pond. Ncuti is, chronologically speaking, more British than I am. - Though given that he's Rwandan-Scottish, there may be some debate on the "British" part. - Wikipedia says the actor is pretty left-wing, but the actor seems good so far, so I'm willing to give him a sha-

Oh, come ON!

Maybe the original person speaking was comparing it to the Chibnall “history has always been a whitewash” era, which had a character who was a paper thin Trump satire. A tad ironic, when the whole point of bringing Davies, Tennant, and Tate back is to play on nostalgia.

*Tangent: that word was apparently voted  the most annoying words in English. Which is kind of hilarious if you know that it was originally created to self-describe certain progressives. And the "you can't even define that word!" meme was almost certainly ripped off from the right wing "what is a woman?" Meme. ** This is apparently because she's part Time Lord, through Donna. It seems a tad interesting to me that a few works featuring non binary characters happen to make them enby due to some sort of supernatural (Omniscient Reader) or sci-fi (SW Squadrons) influence which the vast majority of IRL enbies don't have. ...As far as I know.

[alanshee-keeper-of-realms]

Incidents on the Chronological Tree of Warner and Disney for my Off the Animation Table AU

1934-The Warner Siblings then known as James, Theodore (Teddy) and Angelina are imprisoned in the Tower upon causing a fire at the Warner Lots that took out 15 acres, 2 million (34 Million) in property damage.

1946- Max Goof is Born to Marcy and Goofy Goof.

1948- Bugs in a similar way to Tex Avery loses his sight in his left eye after something is thrown with toon logic and permanently damages it has to relearn a majority of his Tricks majority.

1959- Bugs and Daffy get married in a non legal ceremony

1966-Walt Disney Dies

1973- Donald, Panchito and Jose are caught off guard when they find 2 eggs viable Camilo and Maria hatch a month later.

1980-Tex Avery Dies

1983 Marcy Goof wife of Goofy is killed when a barrel of Thinner falls on her as a result of Goofy tripping over it, Disney quickly hushes the incident up.

1992- The Warner Tower Collapses leading to the rediscovery of the Warner Siblings. This is also when they were adopted by Bugs and Daffy while they recovered from the injuries received, Wakko is diagnosed Diabetic at this time. Dot is left with a permanent disability of her left leg due to damage to her spinal cord, Yakko is left with lung damage as a result.

1996: The Warner Siblings Parents are identified as Oswald the Lucky Rabbit and Ortensia the Cat after Ortensia identifies them and shows evidence in the form of photos and memories.

2003: After numerous years of keeping an eye out and testing, Wakko is the first toon diagnosed with a previously thought to be Human only genetic disorder Prader Wili Syndrome.

2011- Mickey and Oswald get into a fight outside the Disney Studios fracturing their relationship

2016- Bugs involved in hit and run incident

2023-Kidnapping of several Disney Kids occurs, Marian Mouse, Mickey and Minnies Eldest Daughter is Born, Max and Yakkos Eldest daughters Lillian and Blair Warner-Goof are Born a month after Marian.

2027- Mickey involved in Car Accident, Walter Mouse is born a month after.

2039- a Holiday firework misfires while being loaded at Disneyland the noise mistaken for gunfire fire spooks the crowds leading to a Crowd Collapse in Disneylands Mainstreet USA. Minnie Donald Panchito Jose, Max and Yakko, along with several of the kids are involved. Marian the eldest Daughter of Mickey and Minnie looses her right leg Yakko is paralyzed from the chest down,

2043- Henri Warner-Goof only Son of Yakko and Max, overdoses leaving him with permanent epileptic seizures.

[doomandgloomfromthetomb]

Robyn Hitchcock Sings Syd Barrett - The Chapel, San Francisco, January 6, 2024

As the outrageously grim month of January crawls by, I've kept my eye fixed on one shining night to get me through — the night when Robyn Hitchcock returns to Colorado. I've mentioned it previously, but back in March 2020, right when the whole Covid thing kicked off, I had tix to see Robyn ... and I did not go ... and the lockdown began. That was Hitchcock's last show until the pandemic cooled down. And his run out here this weekend will be his first shows in the Centennial State since that fateful time.

A lotta context to just say: I am really looking forward to seeing Robyn Hitchcock! If all my facts are right, 2024 marks 30 years of seeing him play live for me — and I love the experience as much as a grizzled, gray-haired 40-something as I did as a fresh-faced teenager. To prep, I'm checking out this very good tape of Robyn and friends in San Francisco a few weeks back, celebrating Syd Barrett's birthday with a psych-tastic Syd set. These songs are second nature to Hitchcock; he's been covering Barrett for a half-century now (or longer now). But he still manages to locate the wild, inventive spirit of this music – and seems to relish doing so. The tape is killer, but you might want to check out the various videos of the show, too, which might take you back to the UFO Club circa 1966.

Robyn Says: Syd Barrett was an English art student who named and launched Pink Floyd. He wrote, sang and played guitar on their first hit records, released in 1967, but soon suffered an irreversible breakdown from taking LSD. Within a year he was out of the band, and by 1970 his career was over. He made two solo records of outstanding beauty and then gave up music. To some ears they’re sketchy and chaotic, but once you become attuned to Barrett these two albums are a seam of dark yet vivid intensity unmatched in modern rock. It’s like looking through a window in somebody’s head directly into all their wayward feelings. It’s unfiltered thought, set to meandering tunes and guitar-playing so edible you can taste it; it’s pure, undiluted — it’s real. And to those of us who speak Syd, exquisite. 

Further reading — my 2022 interview with Robyn is still hot off the presses ...

[denimbex1986]

'With “The Giggle” finally hitting Disney+, the three David Tennant-centric Doctor Who specials have come to a close, with surprising and spoilerific results. We’ve known for ages that Neil Patrick Harris was playing a new incarnation of a 1966 1st Doctor villain, The Celestial Toymaker, but until now, nobody knew how that was going to play out. And of course, there’s the whole question of the 14th Doctor’s surprising regeneration. With deep dives into recent lore, the return of Mel (Bonnie Langford) from the 6th and 7th Doctor eras, “The Giggle” will give fans plenty to talk about for a very long time to come.

But, squeezed into all of this was one very telling line from the 14th Doctor, a kind of revelation we’ve heard before, but that truly helps to contextualize the more contemporary Doctors as being very different from the 1st Doctor, William Hartnell, for one crucial reason. Just because the 1st Doctor appears to be a literal grandfather, that version of our eponymous Time Lord is among the youngest, and least-wise of all our Doctor Who incarnations...

As Donna and the Doctor are trying to escape the domain of the Toymaker, the Doctor vaguely recaps the events of “The Celestial Toymaker.” As the Doctor explains, he allowed the TARDIS to slip into a “hollow beneath the under-universe,” which brought him in contact with the Toymaker. Interestingly, in the context of the original serial, this wasn’t the Doctor’s first meeting with the Toymaker; and that vague origin has never been outright depicted on screen. But, the more interesting revelation here is the way the Doctor talks about the events of “The Celestial Toymaker.”

“When I was young I was so sure of myself, I made a terrible mistake,” the Doctor says. Now, if you didn’t know he was talking about a William Hartnell-centric adventure, your mind might call up a vague younger version of the Doctor, perhaps even one of those secret “Timeless Children,” versions. But that’s not at all what the Doctor means here. He means Susan’s Grandfather, the 1st Doctor, the grumpy, gruff stick-in-the-mud. And the idea that gets reinforced here is fairly simple: The elderly Doctor was, in fact, the youngest and most immature version of all the primary incarnations we’ve seen.

Meanwhile, the more conventionally youthful Doctors — including the incoming Ncuti Gatwa — are considerably older than the Hartnell Doctor, meaning, they’re infinitely wiser and less immature. Part of this comes from more experience, but it also comes from the fact that the newer Doctors are, for lack of a better term, simply more Doctor-ish. Over the years, the Doctor has become more of themselves through a variety of critical points.

In “The Giggle,” the 14th Doctor mentions that he is “a billion years old,” which is significantly older than he was back when Donna first met him in “The Runaway Bride,” at a time which the Doctor usually cited his age as somewhere in the 903 range. Is the 14th Doctor counting all the time the 12th Doctor (Peter Capaldi) spent in the confession dial? Are we also adding in all the missing years from the time of the Fugitive Doctor (Jo Martin), and other “Timeless Child” or “Brain of Morbius” Doctors who have had their pasts erased?

In a way, whether they’re a few thousand years older than the Hartnell Doctor, or a few billion, it hardly matters. The newer Doctors are simply much older and smarter than the older ones. Just because William Hartnell or Patrick Troughton might seem like senior citizens compared to Jodie Whittaker or Ncuti Gatwa, the reality is those classic Doctors are the young punks. Those are the Doctors who made the mistakes and messed up space and time, and various galaxies. In this way, the story of the new incarnations of Doctor Who isn’t about a Time Lord’s constant quest to look young. Instead, it’s all about undoing our preconceived notions of what a responsible hero should look like, and realizing the one that looks the most like a revered elder, is also the person who was likely the most reckless.'