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thewhizzyhead · 4 years ago

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you very much Should Keep going (if you’d like) I’m reading your tags like 👀👀👀 I wanna know More!!!

dude believe me i only just thought up 90% 9f this while doing my math homework last night so yea this is very barebones and this is very very new have very little to offer but um imma try to explain a bit more fjdjdc SO ANYWAYS GRADE 11

Warning: this is very long and I am very sorry aaAAAA also i only just thought of this last night and a while ago while attending class so um yea it's chaotic.

the songs i've mentioned so far in the tag ramble aren't um consecutive so yeah there are a lot of blank spaces in between fjsjsj and yea I haven't figured out the other leads and their arcs yet (probably 5-6 leads). for now um the planned songs feature 3 of the leads:

Kate - basically answers the question of What If Eva Sanchez Was The Protagonist and What If Eva Sanchez Saw The Hell That Is Don't Even (in this show, this song is called "Anakpota?" or "The Fuck?"); she's a transferee and is having a bit of a hard time adjusting to the new school environment; her reasons for transferring run a bit deeper than just "humanities is a lot more interesting than stem or business shits"; i guess her main character themes are burnout, the want for childlike wonder again and overcoming the fear that comes with chasing what you really want and no i am definitely not self projecting what are you guys talking about smh rhhdhs /hj (altho i admit that this is loosely based on my own experience with deciding to transfer schools) and yea she's a very closeted lesbian that slowly starts to comes out to others and to herself more throughout the course of the show. and also she gets a girlfriend YAY

Noel - rn i don't have that much planned out for him cause u know barebones plot but so far um i guess he's the chill dude, overall good guy, rantaro amami from danganronpa v3 vibes, and he's initially framed as the "love interest" for Kate esp in the song "Ikaw Ba Ay..." or "Are You..." (i wanted that to be a play on the typical Filipino Teen Hetero Romance CAUSE THAT SHIT IS IN EVERYWHERE JFJSJD I AM GONNA MAKE A WHOLEASS RANT ON THAT SOON AND NOBODY CAN STOP ME) but surprise motherfucker BOTH OF THEM ARE GAY AND BOTH BOND OVER IT AND BECOME BEST FRIENDS YAY WOOOO i kinda want him to be like the typical "Filipino Teen Heartthrob" star student with the twist being that he's gay and not make that a throwaway joke cause um yea that's a throwaway joke here that someone who is real catch for the heteros but is actually gay is "sayang" or "worthless" here.

Ella - ngl she is probably gonna end up as the main lead here fjdjd i'd say she has riley+chess vibes aka The School's Hotshot Achiever and Student Leader That Is Very Intimidating But Is Actually Really Freaking Kind and i guess with a dash of Kate Dalton-ish snark. Like i said the plot is barebones rn so i dunno anything but i do imagine them being the one that drives the plot forward due to her outspokenness. I also imagine her to be the one (along with Noel) that makes Kate a lil bit more comfortable with her sexuality and yup you guessed it Ella is gay too (bi to be specific oh and she uses she/they pronouns) and altho still a bit closeted, they're a bit more comfy with it. also they become Kate's gf yay!

those are the leads that i have kinda planned out so far but yea i still gotta expound kna lot of atuff and make up more leads for this but then again i just started conceptualizing this last night so ANYWAYS HERE ARE THE OTHERS SONGS THAT I LITERALLY JUST THOUGHT UP LAST NIGHT (aside from the ones already mentioned)

+ "Nakakapanibago" or "Well This Is New" - Ella and Kate work together on a school project aaand gay panic ensues. both of them take turns in addressing the audience and panicking over each other in um er an "Oh My God She's Very Fucking Cute What The Fuck" way. it kinda has What Is This Feeling from Wicked vibes if you remove the aggression and antagonization jdjsd and i kinda emphasize on how overwhelmed they are cause for Kate, everything - from the school to the subjects to the people - is new and her attraction to Ella is like a cherry bomb on top of a chaos cake while for Ella, who has studied in the school since kindergarten which is why nothing about the school fazes her anymore, Kate is a literal breath of fresh air and the spontaneity scares them and excites them at the same time. The number is comedic (and is chance for me to add a shit ton of wordplay cause yAY WORDPLAY) but i guess also hints at their fears which will definitely come into play later.

+ "Mabuting Laban" or "Good Fight" - a group number led by Ella, this is the first song in the musical that isn't mostly comedic. like um the musical so far (before this song) is mostly somewhat of a parody-just-for-laughs-don't-take-this-seriously piece but with this, the show finally hints to something a lot more serious and insightful. so basically ella tells kate (this scene comes right after the Nakakapanibago sequence) that they have noticed that the latter is um very very shocked at the blatant show of LGBTQ+ stuff. Kate mentions that altho many students have since then spoke up for LGBTQ+ acceptance, things were a lot more conservative back in her former school (once again wooo definitely not self projection /hj) so like seeing all this is very new to her. Ella then mentions that things weren't always like that - a lot of fighting had to be done in order to get to that point. and because most of the students already were branded with a rebellious reputation (for a lot of delinquent behavior), they really didn't give a fuck anymore if they were being controversial or not. What mattered was that they would make the school environment a lot more welcoming for themselves and for others. That sentiment is also shared by other leads singing along as they go out of their way to ensure a much better environment for everyone (in terms of lgbtq+ rights, undoing the stigmatization of mental health matters, student activism yadda yadda)

(oh and also this kinda serves as something that bridges the prejudices between the two schools since Ella's school is famous for a lot of student delinquency while Kate's former school is famous for being known as the "Best School In The Region With The Best Students" (which is why Ella understands why the students in Kate's school are a bit more hesitant to speak up because Kate's former schoolmates got way too much to lose) and the rivalry those schools have with each other cause students from ella's school think those from kate's school are pompous little shits while those from kate's school think that ella's schoolmates are delinquents and yes this is commentary on the dynamic my former school'scstudents and my current school's students share) (i should probably give this its own song)

+ "Ayoko" or " I Don't Want It" - (this does not come right after Mabuting Laban fjsjd i honestly dunno where to put this) this comes right after a conversation regarding her reputation in her former school and yea this is Kate poking fun at the "I Want" song musical trope. Like um she addresses the audience saying something along the lines of "oooohh wow complicated backstory exposition! you are probably expecting a song rn ala "How Far I'll Go" from Moana but guess what bitches fuck you all cause i'm gonna sing a song about the things I don't want just to fucking annoy you." it starts off as incredibly satirical and um Kate Dalton-vibes all throughout the scene with lots of pettiness which will then gradually transition to her singing about how she threw all the opportunities presented to her by the former school just because she really didn't want to do them and was tired of saying "yes" just to be enough for them. She then starts singing about her taking control of her own narrative by finally leaving the school. She still laments about those lost opportunities and admits that she still kinda wants to pursue those, but if she has to sacrifice rest for greatness, then she doesn't want it. The song ends with a verse akin to most I Want songs as she finally admits what she really wants the most: rest and wonder.

also here's a verse i made up just a while ago

Diyos ko, sabihin mo, ano pa ang kailangan kong gawin/upang mabawi ang mga ninakaw sa akin/upang maibalik ang pag-asang nawala/upang sa wakas ako'y makakapagpahinga/sapagkat hindi na ako nagnanais ng kadakilaan/ang hinihingi ko lamang ay ang aking kabataan

translation (i'll try my best to make it rhyme): My God, tell me, what else do i have to do/so I can take back all that they have taken from me/so that I can bring back the hope I've long so been deprived of/so that for once in my life, I'll be able to breathe/ cause I no longer want all the greatness that you say I could've had/ I only want to wonder, I only want my childhood back

+ "Halos Lagi Nalang"or "Almost Always The Same" - if this sounds familiar yes i rambled about this before gjdjdjd I started conceptualizing this song even before i even started conceptualizing the musical. So yea this is in Act 2 the song starts with mentioning the exhaustion that comes with being an LGBTQ+ teen in the philippines cause yup same old conservative religious bullshit same old same old shit and despite many a lot of people advocating for LGBTQ+ rights, nothing ever changes around here because well conservative religious bullshit. so yea this is kind of an extension of "Good Fight" but make it more about the burnout felt by a lot of teens that want something better than whatever we have right now. Then it will also apply to the other causes that the leads fight for (activism,destigmatization of mental health stuffs, etc). I'd say it's a combination of Before the Breakdown + Move On musically speaking (yea PMA has influenced me by a LOT). eventually this becomes one of the star numbers fo the show cause yea all the leads will do a shit ton of singing and harmonizing (but for here i'd say Noel and Kate have a tiny bit more of the spotlight since for now they are the ones with the very LGBTQ+ based plotlines). I really REEAAALLY want this song to work aaaa i've been playing around with the melody a lot recently and if i can't write the whole musical, then i'll be content with at the very least writing this song

+ "Try Lang Natin" or "Let's Try It Out" - this is a very barebones sequence atm but basically it's a scene where both Kate and Ella come to terms with their fears related to uncertainty and go "fuck it we don't know jackshit about the future anyway so why not ondulge a bit and ejoy what we have today" and decide to start going out with each other YAYYYYY and also this is like one of the few scenes here were Ella is much more visibly nervous compared to everyone else in the scene so yay for helping each other come to terms with their own vulnerabilities WOOOOO (also paige i remember you saying once that kate and eva could've had a Forever reprise duet right? And correct me if i'm wrong but i think u said it could be about eva assuring kate that she won't go anywhere? WELP I'M STEALING THAT JFJSJJDF /lh /hj AND YUP KATE AND ELLA ARE BASICALLY UM KINDA KATEVA IF YOU SQUINT SO THANK YOU PAIGE FOR THAT IDEAAAA)

AND THAT'S IT SO FAR WOO THIS TOOK ME 5 HOURS TO TYPE IT ALL OUT FJDJSJFF i'm kinda impressed with this ngl considering that i literally started making this up last night and i hope that i can make something out of it woo

And if you guys somehow reached the end of the post and have read every single thing, I'm sending you a lot of hugs and a lot of milkshakes

#paige i am so so sorry it took a long time and i am so sorry that the response is VERY VERY LONG DJXJS #but i hope you liked it!#the ask cheered me up btw fjsjx like i wasnt expecting anyone to be interested but then u sent the ask and YAY KRKDJ #if anyone has any questions or comments or anythjng then um feel free to um hit me up with them YAYYYYY #okay to rb btw if you wanna express ur opinions in the tags #i like hearing other people's opinions on my rambles so feel free to do so if you wanna #thanks for the ask paigeee #paige! (literally riley)#ask me stuff #hmm i should make a tag for this #Izzy's rambles and shit #yea that

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eyes-lungs-pankreas · 4 years ago

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Hi! Could I get a supernatural ship please? I'm a bi guy(though I tend to prefer girls), and I'm very thin, and about 5'11". I'm ENFP, and tend to be very curious and empathetic. I have a habit of putting other peoples needs before my own, and I always want other people to be happy. I'm a talker, and babble when I'm excited. I don't get angry easily, and when I do it's a quiet angry. The fastest way to upset me is to hurt someone I care about. I'm very creative, and love to write and DM. My sense of humor is very snarky, and I love to tease people and make bad puns. I often find myself drawn to people with very strong personalities, and love passionate people.

Thank you!

______________________________________________________________

From Supernatural I ship you with Jo Harvelle♡

You were at Harvelles Roadhouse. You’ve been aimlessly driving around until you found this place. Perfect for drowning out your sorrows. It has been two years from today since your boyfriend Derek died infront of your eyes.

You gripped the glas of whiskey you where holding tighter as you mind drifted of to that night...

Derek and you went to go camping on your thrid anniversary. You picked a place where you often went hiking together, near a stream.

You two enjoyed your time there joking around, searching firewood and setting up your camp.

By the time you finally lit the fireplace it was already dark. An Owl hoowling in the distance. You were roasting some marshmallows and telling each other scary stories when you suddenly heard a growling sound coming from the bushes ,getting closer fastly....

Blinking you tried to shake the memorys away. Lifing your glass and drowing it’s contens.

‘‘Another one’‘ you groaned making the pretty blonde bartenter who served you turn to you.

‘‘Don’t you think you've had enough?’‘ she smiled looking at your clearly intoxinated state.

‘‘No’‘you poutend.

Still smiling she leaned over the counter closer to you ‘’I tell you what. If you give me your car keyes, you’ll get all the drinks that you want’’

Signing you reached for your pocket-

‘’Alright’’you said putting your keyes on the counter. Taking them with one hand as she poured you another glas with the other.

As the night went on you drank some more , talked with the pretty blonde you found out whos name is Jo some more as you felt your eyes getting heavy, passing out on the counter a few hour later.

the next morning.....

‘‘.....Jo you don’t need to get him involved’‘ you heard a womans voice say waking you up.

‘‘But Mum he’s the only person who saw what happend and i’ve been searing for that pack for months. He could be the final clue’‘a younger voice said.

Jo you thought as you continued to evesdrop. Staying still.

‘‘Jo i don’t even want you to go hunting. Just let it rest’‘

‘‘No. I can’t ’‘Jo said passionately. ‘’Listen Mum when he was drunk he told me that a monster killed Derek Noele. Everyone thought he was crazy .He wants to hunt that thing and if we won’t help him he will most definitely get killed’’

‘‘Jo-’‘

‘‘He can’t fight a whole pack of werewoves’‘she interuptet.

‘‘I knew it’‘ you suddenly exclaimed no longer abel to stay still. ‘‘I knew I wasn’t crazy!! Werewolves!!!F*cking Werewolves’‘

Jo and the older woman let out a shrick , getting suprised by your outburst eyes turning wiede while looking at you, before the blonde composed herself and triumphly turned her head, lips turning into a smirk.

‘‘We’re doing this’‘ she said ‘‘He knows now anyways’‘

______________________________________________________________

requested by @squeaktheawesome

hey i was about to ship you with dean then i read you prefer girls. I hope you like it an that i got one of your faves of the show <3

Get Shipped

#supernatural ships #marvel ships #jo harvelle #supernatural #doctor who ships #Harry Potter Ships #Skins Ships #Shameless ships #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #Supernatural

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gallaghercest · 5 years ago

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REPOST: Evidence #1 - Noel’s Sexuality

Hello! So, I’m reposting this 2017 post because Tumblr deleted it.

Enjoy!

— x — x — x —

Good evening, class! It’s been a long time but I’m back. It took so long because I needed plenty of time to arrange everything correctly, because tonight we’ll have a long post. And I’m back with such a polemic subject to talk about. That’s right: Noel Gallagher’s sexuality. Pretty much a taboo in the whole fandom.

I actually realised this should have been my first post here, since it’s focused much more on the 80s, but, well, it’s all said and done now, so just pretend you read this post first, ok?

Before starting I know that there will probably be someone/some people who will go “but jULIA YOU CAN’T TALK ABOUT THIS, IT’S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS, IT’S TOO PERSONAL, YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT NOEL AND HIS GAYNESS AA A A A A A A”

And I’ll tell you what, kids: I’d rather walk I HAVE the right to talk about this, I’m his fan, I have the evidences, I’ve done researches, essays, everything you can imagine, and my conclusion is: it’s not my fault if he prefers to stay inside the closet LG x

So, take your seats and here we go!

Disclaimer: this is a bunch of evidences I made by myself, based in conversations I had with my friends and months of analysis, suffering, nights of insomnia and tears. Don’t know if everything is veridical, but at least, it’s a way that I found to “light” up our way and try to find some proper fucking answers to this stuff.

Well, I bet lots of you have already wondered (at least once in your lifetimes) about Noel’s sexuality, because, honestly, it’s something really confusing if you stop to think about it. The guy fucking hooked up with his brother, that’s already a good point to start. But I’ll try to list all the evidences on a chronological order.

1-) This Charming Man

This one is more like a deduction but ok. Yes, the famous Smiths’ song always had an important role on Noel’s life. It was the first song he learned to play on guitar. It was his main inspiration to become a musician as soon he saw The Smiths playing it on Top Of The Pops in 1983.

But, a 16 year old Noel who hated school and all type of book obviously didn’t understand the references and the lyrics meaning of any song as a 21 year old Noel could.

There’s a quote from Noel, which I think it’s from the NGHFB era already – but it might be from the late Oasis years, who knows – which I couldn’t find now, but I promise I’ll try my best to find it. If you know it, you can send it to me, too. The point is that, basically, Noel was asked by the interviewer why would he play the same fucking songs in every single gig.

Noel answered that, when he attended his first Smiths’ gig, which I’m sure it was in late 80s, he wanted them to play This Charming Man SO SO SO SO SO MUCH, and they had played it on their last gig, or on the last week’s gig, something like this, so Noel was really hopeful about it. The point is: they didn’t play it on the gig that Noel attended, and he got pretty much traumatised over that. So, he claims he plays the same songs every single gig because of that happening.

But, now, I ask you: As I said, this song was always important to him. But, as he grew old, he might have understood the lyrics more – This Charming Man’s lyrics clearly talks about homosexuality and an affair between a guy from working class and a guy from an upper class, you can read more about it on Genius, I guess. And now that he was older, maybe he identified more with the song in general.

He said once that as soon as he heard This Charming Man, everything made sense, even though he didn’t know any literature references and stuff like that – so he admitted that he didn’t get the lyrics at first. And this is important because I’m not telling you he had homosexual tendencies since he was born, it came after years and years.

2-) “Effeminate Phase” AKA Manchester Mauler

In the Definitely Maybe DVD, when talking about the “Give me gin and tonic” bit from Supersonic with Mark Coyle (11:30), Noel mentions that he must have been going through one of his – ONE OF, IT MEANS HE HAD LOTS OF – ‘effeminate phases’ to be drinking gin and tonic at that time.

He even joked once in an interview with Zane Lowe that when Peggy asked him why did he kept in his room 24/7 playing guitar, he answered, joking, “because I’m gay” :’))))))))))))

And now, the thing that I guess it’s the most iconic thing about Noel’s sexuality: if you search on Google “Is Noel Gallagher gay?” you will find an anonymous answer (that actually was answered by The WikiAnswers Community™), which goes:

“Definitely! He’s known as the Manchester Mauler. A refrerence to his brutal homosexual appetite durring his youth in Manchester, England.”

And in case you’re wondering “what the fuck does Mauler mean?”, Urban Dictionary will help you:

(I censored it because maybe Tumblr would block it again if I didn’t)

Let me tell you: this is my favourite piece of information of the entire Oasis history. It doesn’t come from any reliable source but the point is: I don’t doubt it. It’s the truth to me.

3-) Clint Boon

This is probably the most important evidence – so important that it’s why I’ve chosen it to illustrate the post. Noel’s years as a roadie were, obviously, wild.

Everything started when he auditioned to be the new singer of Inspiral Carpets. As we all know, he wasn’t accepted, but he was asked to be a roadie, in case he was interested. I don’t want to be pretentious but I have lots of friends who think that the job was only offered to him because Clint was already interested, BUT ANYWAY.

It’s common to see lots of photos of Clint and Noel together, we all know. And very suspicious photos, in fact. Some of them are not even with Clint, for example. The one where Noel is almost kissing a guy with a hand on his **** is actually Graham. And you can tell it because Graham’s hair was shorter than Clint’s (it’s the third photo of the collage above)

Noel was already asked by this photo on an interview and he was BOLD ENOUGH to deny the kiss:

“Interviewer: There’s a quite famous photo of you snogging Clint [Boon] from The lnspiral Carpets.

Noel: Oh no, that was Graham [Lambert, Inspirals guitarist]. Yeah. We weren’t actually kissing, though.

I: It looked like you were.

N: Yeah, yeah, it did look like it. But I can assure you.”

Anyway, the point is, we know Noel can assure they weren’t kissing because the only guy he would kiss was Clint. Ok, seriously now: we know that Noel used to take suspicious photos with his friends, while they drank and did drugs.

You can even see Noel shotgunning – the act of blowing weed or simply cigarette’s smoke on another person’s, usually your partner’s, mouth, and maybe even kissing – on the 4th and 5th photo from the beginning of the post. Notice that both photos were taken at the same night (their clothes are the same) and with the same guy.

Ah, and we have the matching haircuts as well. Thing we saw happening to Liam and Noel too (1997, 1999…)

(please don’t ever let this photo die)

Well. My point here is not the photos, not even the haircuts at all. It’s Clint. The amount of photos/footage we have of Noel with Clint is much more significant than the ones we have with the rest of the band. For example, Noel’s not seen in bed with any other member than Clint.

Actually, I have more things to talk of Clint, but I’ll leave it to another post.

And more: on the book “Carpet Burns: Life with Inspiral Carpets”, by Tom Hingley, the lead singer, contains a quote where Clint claims that Noel taught him another use for the airplane tables (thanks, Mat, for the useful info!). Another use. If you know what I mean.

But the most extraordinary thing is that, coincidence or not, there’s a Inspiral’s song, called Dragging me Down, written by Clint, released on 1992 – when Noel was already gone and in Oasis –, that strangely makes references to planes, travels, sky and flying. Behold:

Now, it’s up to you to patch things together.

AND DON’T YOU GET ME TO TALK ABOUT THIS:

4-) Random Noel’s quotes through the years

This one is probably the more common and easy-to-find evidence. I’ll just give the examples I recall now, but if you have more in mind, feel free to share it so I can add it to this post!

I don’t know what happened to Noel in the ‘Russell Brand 6Music show’ on 2006, because somehow he said a lot of things there.

Noel insisted that if he was gay, he’d be the biggest gay in the world, saying “I would be gayer than Freddie Mercury”, and then, Russell suggested that the 3AM girls might be interested in Noel suddenly getting in touch with his gay side, to which Noel replied:

“In a manner of speaking, I may have done already.”

Bingo!

And there’s that one from 1 Leicester Square, also being interviewed by Russell Brand, where they even talk a little about Noel’s years as a roadie, and Noel later says he was “very in touch” with his “effeminate side” (again!) and that Noel was a girl’s name¿? Russell says Liam has a “sexualised arrogance” and I confess I’m really like ?¿?¿where did you get it, son?¿?¿? because I really do think it’s something Noel thinks at the deep heart, not something Russell Brand could say, actually.

And again, there’s another quote, from another Russell Brand BBC2 show from 29th July 2008: “I like a few women but I like men an awful lot more.” He even continues and say “I call myself straight, but I’m GAY!”. “If I went to call myself bisexual, it would be equally, if not more misleaded (?), I’m not undecided or bi-curious either” Then, Noel asks “Matt, can you come up with a new word for people who are mostly straight but a little gay or mostly gay but a little straight?” and Russell comes up with the brilliant answer: “Oasis.”

It actually surprises and triggers me how nearly every time Noel and Russell meet, they end up talking about that subject… really weird, innit? Does Russell know of something? We might never know… *suspense intensifies*

And, now, going out of the Russell Brand show, we have the beautiful quote of Noel for a German TV interview on February 2009, which I’ll give me the luxury to copy down here:

“Q: So tonight you’re on stage with your brother.

N: Unfortunately, yes.

Q: Unfortunately. You don’t like each other very much.

N: No.

Q: Is there anything you like about your brother? Anything?

N. There’s lots of things I like about his personality, but he doesn’t like me.

Q: Do you know why?

N: Uuuhm…

Q: Have you ever talked to him about it?

N: I don’t know. You’d have to speak to him. But I know he doesn’t like me. He insults me all the time.

Q: But you like him.

N: There’s certain aspects of him that I like.

Q: What kind of aspects?

N: He wears crazy shoes.

Q: Ah. Anything else?

N: He has crazy hair.

Q: And what’s that got to do with his personality?

N: They’re just things I find attractive in men.”

Fine.

6-) This.

Ok, now I have two destinations: either people will kill me or support me. I don’t want to, I don’t know, ruin Noel’s perfect-marriage-husband reputation or whatsoever; actually, I don’t want to ruin Noel’s marriage lolololol but the point is: it’s in the internet, so it’s free, right? And my job here is exposing. So, that’s what I’m gonna do.

Well, one day I was doing my daily research with my friends, seeking for evidences of Noel’s bisexuality, and I bumped up into this:

But then I thought, “c'mon, the guy (who I censored the username for legal reasons) could be tripping”, but then me and my big-stalker-KGB-ass did a research on the lad’s profile, and, in the same weekend he tweeted that, he really was at Glasto, in 2014:

And the point is that, Noel wasn’t playing Glastonbury then, but he ATTENDED Glastonbury; he was at backstage, as you can see here:

Maybe the guy is crazy? Yes! Do I think he is actually crazy? No! Simply because, as I said, I don’t doubt anything, I know Noel and his capacity. The only difference between Noel and Liam is that Noel is a perfect secrefreak.

7-) Oasis fans are noticing it

If you think I made up all this bullshit, think again. It’s more and more common you see, not only the more dedicated fan accounts talking about it, but more grown-up fans talking about it too – I mean: it’s common to see not only the fan girls talking of it, but 30 year old blokes talking too. So, something must be quite right in all of this, right?

That’s it, guys, thank you so much for reading, I really consider this post my ultimate masterpiece, so I hope you enjoyed it! Feel free to reblog, it helps me a lot, send a message or whatever, I’ll love to read it, see you on the next post!

#noel gallagher #gallaghercest #gcestlavie #evidence #80s

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queerbitchdiaz-archived · 5 years ago

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The only good thing about LS show are her guests, but they are so uncomfortable most of the time that it's hard to watch anyway.

(this turned into a bit of a rant lol sorry. tldr; ur right.)

!!! i’ve only watched short clips of the noel and cam interview, i can’t bring myself to sit through any more no matter how much i love and appreciate the guys, i just… yeah. and i obviously haven’t seen any other guests on her show but think about what an AMAZING interview that would have been if they had gone on seth meyers or stephen colbert. sigh.

don’t get me wrong i’m SO HAPPY a bisexual woc got a talkshow… i just wish it would have been a different woman lol. (amber ruffin has a segment on seth’s show. she’s hilarious. give her a show!) like look at seth and stephen (they’re my continued examples because i happen to like them both a lot) do they have privilege? OF COURSE. They’re white, straight (as far as we know, since they’re married to women, but they could be bi, i don’t want to make any assumptions) men. But they’re funny, and they know how to talk to their guests and make it sound very natural even when it’s planned out to head towards a certain topic. not only is lilly unfunny, and makes her guests uncomfortable, by asking them strange questions and acting very over-the-top, but she’s just unable to take critism - in a creative field - YOU CAN’T BE. Even i, a nineteen year-old insignificant and unpublished author know that YOU NEED TO LISTEN TO PEOPLE WHEN THEY TELL YOU THE GOOD AND THE BAD THINGS ABOUT YOUR WORK. Are they always right? Of course not, but you need to listen. All she does is make more over-the-top, strange jokes that no one finds funny.

i feel bad for noel and cam and the other guests tbh. she’s embarrasing herself so much.

#gallavich #noel fisher #cameron monaghan

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arundolyn · 5 years ago

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Feel free to hate me for this, but everything for Blazblue. I imagine you rb'd it for a reason?

i rb’d it cause i am Always Salty and it looked interesting tbh

What OTPs in your fandom(s) do you just not get?

taorag cause tao is baby

ragna/rachel cause rachel looks 12 and people are into it sexually + she treats him like garbage and its one sided

kagunoel is creepy

bang/litchi is weird cause bang is not really equipped for that kinda relationship with her esp cause of the stuff with roy and she wouldnt like. get over him that easily

kokonoe/kagura also cause like. “a woman wants to speak to you” “IS SHE HOT” kokonoe: hi kagura: never mind speaks for itself + so does “pay attention to who youre talking to before laying down your game” or whatever to that effect kokonoe says when she beats him even if its noncanon some win quotes are at least vaguely accurate sometimes

kaguhibi is Hm cause a) they might be related and b) hibiki only tolerates kagura

ragjin and ragnu and celirag and ragnoel etc etc etc cause theyre related you nasties

basically mori has a cast of 32+ (excluding mu izayoi and the kids) characters and barely anything is shippable and CERTAINLY not anything m/f cause its either weird or theres no chemistry

Are there any popular fandom OTPs you only BroTP?

makoto/kagura if thats even popular. she doesnt really like him like that anymore like she is Tired of him romantically

Have you ever unfollowed someone over a fandom opinion?

not that i can remember but probably. i dont think ive ever followed any ragjins besides like. one. but if anyone it would be a ragjin

Do you have a NoTP in your fandom? Are they a popular OTP?

ragna/rachel, ragjin, ragnu, and kagunoel are all equally all horrible to me

Has fandom ever ruined a pairing for you?

i dont think so

Has fandom ever made you enjoy a pairing you previously hated?

uhhh i think not. i never really ship much and nobody really convinces me to ship anything. i either am indifferent or dont like it unless i ship it already

Is there anything you used to like but can’t stand now?

how people baby hibiki as if hes not a grown ass man and also an assassin and also reduce ragna purely to anger and being stupid when he’s actually fairly intelligent (ive literally been told i wrote him too smart) and emotionally complex

Have you received anon hate? What about?

MY PALETTES FOR SOME REASON?

Most disliked character(s)? Why?

rachel cause shes just kinda garbage pedobait, plat for the same reason but to a lesser degree cause she at least doesnt say weird ACTUAL BDSM SHIT but i can actually like. tolerate her unlike rachel. nu for ever conceivable reason possible. terumi is just a bastard man im legally obligated to hate him. susan is incredibly overrated

Most disliked arc? Why?

MU BEING SEPARATE FROM NOEL IN CF THAT WAS SO DUMB NOEL LITERALLY JUST ACCEPTED MU AS PART OF HERSELF AND NOW SHES SCARED OF THE POWER SHE JUST RECLAIMED TO PROTECT HER FRIENDS? FUCK OUTTA HERE WITH THAT. also everyone losing their memories in the embryo to cause unnecessary conflict AND everyone wanting to kill noel to cause even more unnecessary conflict cause mori obviously wouldnt let his fuckin waifu die so the tension is dead from the start

Is there an unpopular character you like that the fandom doesn’t? Why?

people tend to think celica and noel are really annoying i guess and like. idk i like them

Is there an unpopular arc that you like that the fandom doesn’t? Why?

fsr people hate celica being the sister that raised ragna and co but like. it doesnt bother me. i dont care about celirag. its weird to me cause thats his mom and nobodys gonna change my opinion on that tbh

Unpopular opinion about XXX character?

plat and mu could really wear more clothes honestly

Unpopular opinion about your fandom?

it is GARBAGE. at least the eng fandom is. i know this opinion is shared by my friends but like. im sure it isnt by the freakos who draw porn of rachel so like. yeah

Unpopular opinion about the manga/show?

translate your fucking novels mori and also the anime sucks

If you could change anything in the show, what would you change?

i know this is like. not made for games but in the anime id change that weird scene that totally deviates from canon where ragna agrees to destroy everything with nu or whatever? garbage. id also change nu being alive in cf cause she doesnt need to be and it wouldnt affect ragnas lifelink cause they didnt die at the same time so shed just be in the boundary cause like. im sure he’s almost died before when he was fighting and she wasnt smelted yet PLUS people keep pulling her soul out of the boundary like its nothing so. yeah. also the scene where ragna goes black beast for no reason just so the embryo has a purpose. i would change a lot

Instead of XYZ happening, I would have made ABC happen…

instead of brotherly paradise getting TWO EXTENSIONS id extend the gag reel where kokonoe and relius bodyswap people instead of ragna deciding to save nu which makes little sense i would simply make him agree with hakumen and let him beat her to death. rip to mori and his waifus but im different

Does not shipping something ‘popular’ mean you’re in denial and/or biased?

not necessarily some ships just fuckin suck lmao

What is the one thing you hate most about your fandom?

the fixation on the female anatomy in the game and fandom is so tiring. esp transphobic jokes about mai

What is the purest ship in the fandom?

tsubaki/noel/makoto tbh

What are your thoughts on crack ships?

i jokingly brought up kagura/mustang fma so like. fuckin go for it its all in good fun

Popular character you hate?

SUSAN

Unpopular character you love?

kagura.....................

Would you recommend XXX to a friend? Why or why not?

yes because im fixated on it but no because its a mess u feel

How would you end XXX/Would you change the ending of XXX?

RAGNA DOESN’T DIE AND NU DOESN’T LIVE

Most shippable character?

kagura is the bi-est. makoto is a close second i think

Least shippable character?

rachel looks 12 and people want her to fuck. kokorach is the only valid ship cause theyre both old and tired of everyone so they can bitch about everyone together

#man i am salty.#broken clover #ouija board

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1863-project · 6 years ago

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Big Fat Summary of Everything

I’ve been rewatching all the Big Fat Quiz episodes for...well, no reason, really, other than that I felt like it. So without further ado, here’s the important stuff I’ve taken from each episode.

BFQOTY 2004:

The first-ever episode. It takes a little bit for the series to hit its stride, and it’s probably most visible here.

Simon Pegg is here, though, which is always a nice plus.

BFQOTY 2005:

Another quieter year, although major celebrities appear alongside the comedians - namely Sharon Osbourne and Gordon Ramsey.

Jon Snow appears reading songs as news stories for the first time. He doesn’t start dancing to them until much later, though.

First appearance of panel show master David Mitchell on BFQ.

BFQOTY 2006:

This is where it goes off the rails, because 2006 is the first of the three appearances of the team that becomes known as the Goth Detectives, Russell Brand and Noel Fielding. Teams gave deliberately weird and funny answers to things they didn’t know before this, but they took it to another level.

Ironically, despite this they end up winning as a joke, which is hilarious.

Big Fat Anniversary Quiz (2007):

First appearance of Richard Ayoade on the show. He and David Mitchell are a team, to boot (and go by the name “Speccy Nerdy Fucknuts,” at that, after their plan to be seated in the middle yet call themselves “Team Three” is thwarted).

BFQOTY 2007:

Noel and Russell return to defend their title, the only time the winning team has returned so far intact for the next year’s episode. Jimmy Carr isn’t as lenient with them and their bullshitting this time around.

This is the first time regular Rob Brydon is on the winning team even though he’s been in every episode up to this point with the exception of the anniversary episode.

BFQOTY 2008:

Jonathan Ross is glaringly absent this year, but it’s because he and Russell Brand had gotten themselves into some pretty serious trouble over the course of the year. Rob Brydon is also absent, meaning that the Bipedal Seal is now the only constant on the show.

First appearance of Claudia Winkleman.

First appearance of two for James Corden, and he flawlessly sings a verse of That’s Not My Name from memory, foreshadowing his future career as Carpool Karaoke maestro.

Davina McCall and Claudia Winkleman talk about wanting to double-team Jon Snow.

BFQOTY 2009:

Despite what had happened the year before (not on the show), Jonathan Ross and Russell Brand are allowed to be a team.

David Mitchell refuses to dance. It’s very funny.

Rob Brydon does the man in a box voice.

BFQOTY 2010:

First teaming of absolute dynamo surreal dream team Noel and Richard, clearly the best idea this show has ever had. They set a then-record with a score of 12. Team name this year is The Electric Moccasins (although as a joke Robson and Jerome comes up as an alternative).

“How can you throw a live wasp?”

“Why do you think it’s weirder throwing a live wasp than a nightmare?”

BFQOTY 2011:

David Walliams and Miranda Hart set the all-time low score record with a measly 4. Which is impressive because Noel and Richard have been a team eight times over the course of the show’s run as of early 2019.

BFQ of the 80s (September 16, 2012):

Not the most notable of episodes, but still worth it. At least go watch the Mitchell Brook kids act out Live Aid.

BFQ of the 90s (September 23, 2012):

Two words: Mr. Blobby. Jack Whitehall is traumatized for life now.

BFQ of the 00s (September 30, 2012):

Noel and Richard’s second appearance as a team, and most notably, the episode where they make their legendary “your mom” joke at Jimmy’s expense. (Team name: The Indoor Kites aka Hot Shame.)

BFQOTY 2012:

Jack Whitehall’s first non-special appearance on the show. He and James Corden proceed to behave like a couple of giggling schoolboys the entire time, even ordering pizza and white wine and having it delivered to them. Oh, and they’re in tuxedos.

Richard Ayoade’s first win on the show. He’s teamed with Gabby Logan.

Russell and Jonathan are a team again. Apparently this is working out for them.

Charles Dance reads 50 Shades of Grey.

BFQ of the 80s (September 22, 2013):

Again, a quieter special by comparison to some of the episodes of the show, but David Mitchell and Phill Jupitus are a team, so if you’re a fan of panel show team captains appearing on other panel shows, it’s worth it.

BFQ of the 90s (September 29, 2013):

Jimmy Carr gets gunged (slimed for the Americans who grew up with Nickelodeon).

BFQOTY 2013:

Dream team Noel and Richard return as a team for the third time and are actually joint winners, marking their first victory as a duo on the show. Sadly, there’s no team name.

Jonathan Ross brings a turkey and makes sandwiches for everyone else.

BFQOTY 2014:

This is the notorious Mel B episode, but it’s also the first appearance of Sarah Millican, who is wonderful.

Richard and David Mitchell are a team again.

Jon Snow’s dancing career begins in this episode, if I recall correctly.

Big Fat Anniversary Quiz (2015):

Third and as of now final appearance of the Goth Detectives. Russell hands out his phone number to audience members and gets them to text him the answers, which isn’t caught until fairly late in the show.

Jack Whitehall does some texting of his own and interacts with Chico, and it’s honestly one of the funniest things that’s ever been on the show. Claudia hugs him as if she’s his mom when he gets a response for the first time.

BFQOTY 2015:

BAD DONG. I’m pretty sure this doesn’t need to be elaborated on, but if you’ve never seen Bad Dong, you need to see Bad Dong. The episode is worth watching for Bad Dong alone.

Of course, if you like Taskmaster, Greg Davies is here, so that’s a good reason to watch too.

BFQOE January 5, 2016:

First-ever Quiz of Everything. Chelsea Peretti of B99 fame is here, if you’re a fan of Nine-Nine.

Richard and Noel (under the team name The Ladder Collars, named after Jonathan Ross’s giant shirt collar) almost win, but Richard insists on making a joke on the last question and they end up in second. Noel of all people calls him out on it.

Mel Giedroyc takes her shoes off to get more comfortable at one point. Noel notices and proceeds to compliment her shoes (high praise coming from him), then says he’d like to drink Bailey’s out of them (which is a reference to probably the one Boosh thing everyone on the internet has seen at some point in time).

BFQOE 2016 Series Episode 1:

Worth it alone to see Jon Snow doing YMCA.

Jonathan Ross and Bob Mortimer’s team name is One And A Half Condoms.

Two dancers from Strictly Come Dancing (Dancing With the Stars in the US) perform a series of dances for the teams to identify. Somehow, despite hosting the show, Claudia doesn’t get most of them right.

BFQOE 2016 Series Episode 2:

Noel and Richard have the team name “The Sultans of Bhunai.” Also, by some bizarre set of circumstances they actually win outright.

Richard goes on an absolutely legendary rant after Rob Beckett steals his tray of candy, which amongst other things leads to him renaming Jonathan Ross and Adam Buxton’s team “The Ancient Fucks.”

Personal highlight for me besides Richard’s candy rage: Noel drawing himself and Richard on the bottom of the screen at one point. Cute as hell.

BFQOE 2016 Series Episode 3:

The only time Noel has won two episodes in a row. Here he’s teamed with Eddie Izzard, which is honestly inspired.

Alan Carr and Romesh Ranganathan call themselves “The Twins.”

BFQOTY 2016:

Romesh’s father has been dead for three years and Jimmy didn’t bother to find that out before asking him what his father thought about his tour of America with his mother, which led to the show breaking down before it even got started this time.

Mel Giedroyc is obsessed with Crossrail. It’s great, trust me.

BFQOE 2017:

Noel and Richard’s team name this time is Humanity’s Last Hope:

Katherine Ryan and Aisling Bea bring puppies on. Real puppies. And it’s wonderful. Everyone takes turns holding them.

When the panelists wonder who owns the moon, Noel just flat-out raises his hand. Because, you know, he IS the moon.

Noel draws an eel in a top hat, which I suspect is a Hitcher reference.

BFQOTY 2017:

First appearance of Big Narstie, who ends up fitting in surprisingly well on the show.

Noel and Richard’s team name is Cakes in the Maze.

Oh, and Noel is dressed as the podium.

BFQOE 2018:

Vic and Bob are a team! An actual double act is a team for the first time! (Their name is Strike Force One.)

Personal highlight of this one for me is the Mitchell Brook kids acting out Kasparov’s loss to IBM’s Deep Blue.

BFQOTY 2018:

Noel and Richard’s team name is Discount Fireworks.

Mo Gilligan flosses to Baby Shark.

On that note, upon learning Baby Shark was the biggest hit of 2018, Noel throws a tea mug and shatters it...then immediately goes to pick the shards up so that nobody gets hurt.

“That’s right! I’m on Bake-Off, motherfuckers!”

BFQOE 2019:

Sandi Toksvig and Big Narstie are becoming friends and it’s the cutest thing.

On that note, Sandy (a lesbian) and Joe Lycett (bi/pan) answer a question asking what three songs have in common with “Gay. They’re all gay.”

Also, Sandy knows weird facts about everything, in case you were wondering if QI is in good hands. It definitely is.

Jon Snow brings all the boys to the yard.

#Big Fat Quiz #BFQOTY #BFQOE #comedy #British comedy

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lonelier-version-of-you · 2 years ago

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Since there was no Casualty tonight, my mom wanted to rewatch an old episode. Specifically, something from the Sanosi storyline. Specifically, “something Dylan and David heavy”. So I picked out S32 E03 and here we are.

Edit 1: I miss Lily.

Edit 2: And we start the proper episode with Ethan brooding.

Edit 3: I hated the intro that only showed Charlie. He’s not the centre of the show. Glad we have one that doesn’t show any specific characters now.

Edit 4: I’d completely forgotten about these guest characters and their storyline. Kind of interested to see how it plays out now.

Edit 5: Elle to Lily: “You’re driving to a wedding after a night shift?! ...Rather you than me!”

I do miss Elle.

Edit 6: Dylan is SO good with kids. I really hope they let him become a father eventually. It’s a natural extension of his story arc and also I need more autistic characters being good parents in media.

Edit 7: Turns out what happened to the guest characters was their chandelier fell on them!! Oof.

Edit 8: I miss the lighting in this era of the show.

Edit 9: I really love Dylan.

Edit 10: Girl on the boat Dylan’s on: “This is your last chance to get off my property!”

Dylan, bluntly: “No!”

Edit 11: DYLAN FALLING THROUGH THE BOAT SFSFSFSFSF

Edit 12: I like Dylan’s ringtone.

Edit 13: I miss Dylan’s flip phone.

Edit 14: Dylan: *literally falls through a boat*

Dylan: I think I’ve found myself in a spot of bother!

Edit 15: The Dylan/David comedy in this episode is GREAT.

Edit 16: David grabs a rope to try and pull Dylan up.

Dylan: David, I can’t climb up a rope, I’ve got a dislocated knee!

David: I’ll hoist you up!

Dylan: That’s ludicrous!

David: It’s not ludicrous, I’ve seen it done on telly!

Dylan: YOU’RE NOT ON THE TELLY!

Edit 17: DAVID FALLING INTO THE BOAT TOO SFSFSFSFSFSF

Edit 18: Ah fuck someone’s noticed Sanosi.

Edit 19: Elle Gardner, come back to me.

Edit 20: Dylan and David married-couple bickering.

Edit 21: Lily looks gorgeous!

Edit 22: I never want to hear Iain call someone “m’lady” again, even as a joke.

Edit 23: David and Dylan have 0 braincells between them.

Edit 24: Casualty, or as I like to call it, “Ethan Hardy Sees Dead People”

Edit 25: Ah okay it was a dream sequence but the joke still works.

Edit 26: IAIN AND LILY IN THE CAR SFSFSFSFSFSFSF ICONIC

Edit 27: Random guy to Dylan: “You look like a man who could do with a drink.” Er... sorry to break it to you buddy, but he’s an alcoholic.

Edit 28: David and Dylan both halfway to a nervous breakdown because their adoptive son has gone walkabout.

Edit 29: Ah fuck, Lily’s dress got torn. Awkward.

Edit 30: I miss Noel. I really miss Noel.

Edit 31: Connie just being baffled by David and Dylan. Amazing.

Edit 32: Dylan and David coming up with a whole lie about returning a borrowed wheelchair to the hospital so they can sneak in and get Dylan treated. Even more amazing.

Edit 33: Ethan having a breakdown on main.

Edit 34: Lily’s aunt to Iain: “Wouldn’t you be happier if Lily was on your level? ...Unless you feel threatened by powerful women?”

Edit 35: They’re playing Come On Eileen at Lily’s cousin’s wedding, what a banger.

Edit 36: The homoeroticism of being a canonically bi man asking your bestie to let you take his trousers down so you can fix his dislocated knee.

Edit 37: The background nurses overhearing Dylan and David and just deciding it’s better not to investigate lmaooo

Edit 38: The Holbyverse tradition of a staff member’s relative having a medical crisis in some random place and the staff member needing to do field surgery on them.

Edit 39: The patient’s mother is so controlling.

Edit 40: Dylan trying to act normal while still drugged up on painkillers, lmao

Edit 41: This patient’s backstory is so sad.

Edit 42: Lily can speak for herself, Iain.

Edit 43: Lily standing up to her aunt! Nice! “It’s my life, and I’ll do what I want with it. And if you can’t respect my choices, then I don’t need your opinions on what I do ever again.”

Edit 44: Dylan being so worried about Sanosi, aww.

Edit 45: Sanosi came back to the boat, awww!

Edit 46: It’s nice seeing happy David.

Edit 47: I miss Connie.

Edit 48: I also miss Noel. So underappreciated.

Edit 49: The Ethan/Connie friendship era was so wild.

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leatherjacket-lovesong · 8 years ago

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leather jacket love song - part four.

You don't think about it.

It's easier than you expected.

Just the usual routine of work-eat-gym-wank-sleep that's sustained you for years. No interruptions. No intrusive thoughts. Elvis, now and again at the end of the phone -- wanting a lift, or to borrow money you'll never get back -- but you've grown to expect that. He's part of your routine too. Scratched himself a jagged little hole to nest in your life long ago.

Julian, though.

Julian. No.

You don't miss his daily text in the form of a political joke.

You don't miss his daft knitted jumpers or poncey art gallery shows.

You don't miss the warm, woody alcoholic scent of him. Tree bark. Cedar wood sap.

You don't.

You don't miss the sound of breaking glass - water jars, paintbrush pots.

Or the thud of his body against his worktable - he'd been viscous, you'd both fought.

(For everything you needed, he'd made you /work/.)

But you especially don't miss his swearing - sharp little outbursts, gasps licking the dark with a foreign tongue.

Or the murmur of your name.

So fucking quiet.

Just one wretched, half-whispered syllable, barely a minute in, that caught you off guard and ended up too much.

"It happens to everyone their first time, it's nothing to be embarrassed about."

No, it doesn't, not like that, fuck off.

Fuckoff-fuckoff-fuckoff.

So you don't think about it.

Bury it deep in the back of your mind and carry on. (Because you were built for that. Your Dad made sure you were.)

And he's silent.

And that's fine.

That's good.

Until... 1 new message - Julian.

"It's been two weeks, Dominic. We need to talk."

-----

You meet up with him.

Because you're not ignorant. Because you're not a cunt.

You don't wanna go, you don't wanna see his stupid face, but he's got a point. You agree with that much. The two of you do need to talk.

Because it won't be long until Julian chats with Elvis, or Mattie, or Specks, or — heaven forbid — Noel.

And you need to make sure this whole thing is kept quiet. Make it crystal clear it can't get out.

Nobody can hear of this. Nobody can know.

So you sit across the table from him in a far corner of Costa on your lunch break, your hands leaving guilty fingerprints on the saucer and the spoon and the cup. Like a criminal, implicating yourself with everything you touch.

For a long time you sit in silence. For a long time you both wait for the other one to talk.

And when the quiet's finally broken — not by you, but by Julian — it's not the first time you wish you'd been the one who spoke up first.

Because when Julian opens his mouth his voice is too tender, his cadence too soft, and his carefully handpicked words only succeed in riling you up.

"I'm sorry, Dominic. I should've kept my distance. Should've been a better mate. Should've actually thought about what was happening. You were mad drunk."

"Don't." You flinch away when he settles a hand on your arm. "Don't make it sound like that."

"Like what?"

"You know."

(Like you took advantage of me. Like I'm vulnerable. Like I'm too stupid to make decisions on my own.)

You stare into your cup of tea. Try not to choke on all the unspoken words piling up in your throat.

Try to forget the way his body had felt when it had moved underneath yours. Hunched low over the table, you feel your chest vibrate against the wood as a vicious growl builds power behind your breastbone.

"I'm not gay, Julian."

You're not. You know you're not. You don't exactly make a habit out of going round fancying other blokes.

And Elvis doesn't count. Because Elvis is your best mate. And with Elvis it's not like that.

"I know." Julian's flippancy makes your fist clench.

"I'm not bi, either."

"You don't have to be." He shrugs.

And when you glare, your top lip curling up into an impulsive snarl, Julian lowers his body and lowers his voice and reaches out to touch your arm one more time.

"There is more than just straight, gay and bi, you know. Sexuality's a spectrum. A huge, incredible spectrum. There's all kinds of weird and wonderful inbetweens. Fucking hell, man, I can help you work it all out, if you just give me some time, if you just open up and talk—"

"I DON'T NEED YER FUCKEN HELP." You're on your feet before you know it, his wiry wrist clamped in your fist. And if you hadn't been so focused on the shock and the fear widening Julian's eyes, you'd have noticed the sudden eerie hush cutting the coffee house's chatter apart. "I DON'T NEED YER FUCKEN 'SEXUALITY SPECTRUM'. I NEED YOU TO KEEP YER FUCKEN MOUTH SHUT. UNDERSTAND ME? JUST SHUT. THE FUCK. UP."

You square off for what feels like hours but must really be seconds. Turning away only when Julian surrenders. When his shock gives way to weakness, and he ducks his head in retreat. Pulls his hand from your grasp. Screws his eyes closed and mouth thin, like he's fighting to suppress a comeback, but says nothing.

Thank fuck.

You grab your coat. Your phone. Catch the sudden whipping of a dozen heads turning in the opposite direction when you spin round.

Shit.

Fuck.

You pull your hood up over your head.

Sink deep into the funnel neck of your parka.

Begin your long walk of shame through the whispering crowd.

----

You remember how it starts.

You're six.

Sat on a dining chair in the middle of the kitchen with a near painful buzz vibrating through the back of your skull.

Wincing, hunched, flurries of fluffy black hair peppering your Mum's freshly mopped laminate floor.

She's not happy. You can tell. And not only because of the mess.

You can't see her — she's across the room — but the loud crashing close of the cutlery draw says enough.

"Fuck's sake, lad. Will you keep your head up." Bearish voice in your ear. Tattooed hand crushing your jaw.

You flinch.

Wince against the tufts of hair that keep finding their way into your eyes, your mouth, your nose.

On the other side of the kitchen, your Mum pipes up, "Careful with him, John. Don't be so rough."

Your Dad scoffs. "He can 'andle it. He's not soft."

Clippers raising all hell round your temples.

Clippers feeling like they're drilling into bone.

Your Mum again, something hinting round the edges of her voice that sounds a bit like concern, "I don't like it. I really don't. It's too short. He looks like a thug."

Your Dad, determined, something in his voice that you want to believe is pride, but know is not, "And? What's the matter with that? Rather him look like a thug, than a puff. He's gonna look ace on Sunday at the rally. 'Ardest little skin in the north."

"For God's sake, don't call him that! And you're not taking him on that horrible bloody racist march. He's six years old!"

"Better to start 'em off young. Before the school starts puttin' fucken ideas into their 'ead. Equality — my fucken left nut. He's comin' to the rally, whether you like it or not."

Your jaw yanked to the side.

Clippers accidentally catching at an earlobe.

You yelp.

He swears.

Belts you round the head with an open palm.

"What did I just say about ya not bein' soft?"

----

You're a hundred and twenty miles North of Manchester, pushing ninety on the M6 with your foot crushed into the accelerator, destination-fucking-nowhere, when you realise you're 'doing an Elvis'.

That is, disappearing. Running away.

You've bunked work. Couldn't face going back in after your public stand-off with Julian. Just got into your car, then threw the rattling piece of shit onto the motorway. Ground the pedal into the floor until you were snarling over the speed limit.

Now it's two and a half hours later and the sign for Carlisle is quick closing in.

You don't feel any better.

You're still raging, still on edge. You still wanna slam Julian against a wall and break his face with your fist.

But at least you're half a country away from him, now. And at least neither of you can do any more fucking damage.

It's not Julian you want to hurt, after all.

(It's you. It's him.)

Your phone's been going on one for the last full hour, having an epileptic fit at the bottom of the little hollow Elvis' arse has dug into your passenger seat, but you only bother to check it when you finally pull off into a service station, desperate for a piss.

You're not sure why you expect it to be Julian.

And you're not sure why the absence of his name tugs a raw nerve in your chest.

It's Elvis.

It always fucking is.

Over fifty notifications. Missed calls, voice-mails, texts.

The famed words, "Mate, come pick us up?"

Over and over and over again.

Halfway across the car park you pause in your step.

But it's not to answer.

It's to press the little 'delete all' icon, then jam your thumb against the power button until the screen falls dead.

(I'm sorry, man. It's not you. It's me.)

----

You're sixteen when you give it to him.

The two of you hanging out in your bedroom after school. John Lydon's ground down, teething snarl blocking out the caterwauling of your sisters arguing over clothes, or make-up, or something equally uninteresting in the room next door. You're sat on your bed, surrounded by textbooks, doing your GCSE English Language homework so Elvis can take it home with him, in order to copy it down word for word.

(He's not lazy. He's just absolutely shit at the subject. And you don't mind letting him copy all your work so he can keep himself afloat.)

Elvis himself is being kept busy by the contents of your wardrobe. Standing in front of your mirror. Trying on all the stuff he finds cool.

Like the vintage leather jacket you bought in the Northern Quarter nine months ago and haven't yet worn.

He's in love with it. You know he is.

He was in love with it back then, and he's still smitten by it now. Admiring the way it hangs off slowly sloping shoulders, rolling the too-long sleeves to his elbows and flipping the collar up.

You've got your attention fixed on the essay, but you can see him there, in the periphery of your view. Posing. All loose stripy school tie and creased white shirt buttoned up wrong. Scruffing his hair, perfecting his scowl.

Your leather jacket looking a thousand times cooler on him than it ever did on you.

"Keep it, if ya want." You tell him, without looking up, "Take it home with you. It's not doing anything other than collecting dust in my wardrobe."

"Yer what?" He spins, something a bit like hope pulling at one corner of his mouth.

"You 'eard. Have it. Fits alright, does that."

It doesn't. It's massive. But you're just kids. He'll grow.

"Ya sure, man?"

"Aye. Course." with your pen wedged between your teeth you flick him an admiring glance, "looks better on you."

And so he takes it.

And he wears it.

And in his excitement he never says thank you.

Just rocks up to school in it the very next day.

And the one after that.

And the one after that, too.

Wears it every waking second of his life until Elvis and leather jacket are synonymous.

Until it's littered with shabbily sewn patches and the elbows are half worn through.

Until he looks like a completely different person without it — without /you/.

And when you buy your first car — an old cherry red BMW, he throws himself down in the passenger seat, then shoves a mixtape in your stereo.

It doesn't surprise you when the first track turns out to be The Cribs 'Leather Jacket Love Song'.

Because this is Elvis.

Your cocky, sweary, slightly bow-legged best mate.

Useless at the English language.

But not unappreciative.

Never forgetful.

Just secretive.

Subtextual.

Just Elvis Ianson.

Who never got any pocket money from the toothfairy for that one missing milk tooth.

Now smoking in your new car with his boots on the dashboard.

Boyish and beautiful.

And two years too late with his wordless, musical thank you.

----

You don't know where to go from here.

You don't even know where you're supposed to start.

As steam rises from your service station coffee, you slump over the table, cradling your head in your hands.

Somewhere on the ceiling, Radio One are playing Sterophonics' 'Maybe Tomorrow' from a crackling speaker that keeps shorting out.

You don't want to go home tomorrow.

You're not sure you ever want to go back at all.

Because every time something good walks into your life, you fuck it up with either your heart, or your cock.

And you wonder if this is what Elvis always feels like. If this is the reason he could win a gold medal at pissing off.

Because his head's always too chaotic. Too messed up. Too filled with self-doubt and self-loathing and all the impossible masculinity you've both been force-fed since you were born.

As exhaustion sets in, you press your eyes closed against the burn.

Try your hardest not to drift off.

Fall into a confused state of semi-sleep, clouded with fragmented memories — part real-part dream — hunkered down in a corner of a deserted motorway cafe, half way between everything that was and everything that might be.

"I should be the one walking you home, the state you're in." Julian.

Julian, outside Trof on your birthday. Pulling on his jacket. Laughing when the fresh night air makes you feel a bit dizzy and you lean into him.

"M'alrigh'. Sober up inna minute. S'not that bad. Walk on."

Words sticking in your mouth. Treacle-thick.

His arm around your waist. Anchoring you against his hip.

"Hope you don't think you're sleeping on my couch again. I've got a lecture at eight. I'm not missing it."

"Don't wan' yer couch. Jus' makin' sure ya get in safe."

Safe.

Julian.

Unlocking his studio door and gesturing you in.

"I'll bell you a taxi. You might as well wait about a bit."

"S'alright. I'm feelin' better now. I'll just go flag one down outside, innit."

You, turning to leave.

You, halted mid-step.

You, with Julian's hand encircling your wrist.

"Come on, don't be daft. Wanna make sure you're safe as well. Told Elvis I'd look after you. I promised him."

Julian, sincere.

You, hesitating.

Words you hear which neither one of you speak, "What are you afraid of, Dominic?"

----

You regret it.

Waking up in the grim service station cafe with cramp in your neck.

Conjuring a smile for the waitress when she strikes up conversation.

Feeling lonely. Feeling weak.

"Where you heading?"

"I'm not sure, yet."

"Where you come from?"

"You don't wanna know."

Laughter. Blue make-up creased on her eyelids. "Mr. Mysterious. I like it."

(You don't.)

You regret it.

Her gold hooped earrings and yellow-blonde ponytail.

Tired eyes that say three kids at twenty.

A direct view into her ample cleavage when she leans over the table.

Big looping handwriting left on your napkin.

'I get off at midnight x x'

(You're not into other guys. You're not gay.)

But you regret it.

As soon as you get her into your back seat. As soon as it begins.

Not because of her. No. Because it's not her fault. She's doing everything right, with her head in your crotch.

There's just nothing happening. Nothing going on at your end.

You think maybe it's because there's not enough room, so you push the front seats forward a bit.

You think maybe it's because there's no background noise, so you stick the radio on a bit.

And when she's got her mouth on your neck, and hand round your dick, trying different tactics, you think maybe you just need to think about something else.

Grasp for anything even slightly arousing in your desperation.

Julian on the phone with his Nanna, talking an incredible, fluent puzzle of Mancunian accented Polish.

Elvis plucking strings on his guitar, hands crooked from early onset arthritis, but eyes narrowed, determined.

A glorious FA Cup win for Manchester City.

They're all great thoughts, they should all get you going.

But when all you manage to will up is a half-cocked semi, you think maybe your imagination isn't really helping.

You need something else. Something real. Something intellectually stimulating.

And you realise, later — when your car smells like cheap perfume and you're using your wing mirror to examine the damage on your neck — that suddenly blurting out "hey, wait, what kinda music do you listen to?" just as she was guiding your hand between her legs, probably wasn't a very sexy moment for her either.

You regret it.

But not as much as you regret fucking off and doing an 'Elvis' in the first place.

----

You get home at six o'clock the next morning. Running empty on an hour of cramp induced sleep behind the steering wheel of your car. You intend to get back, jump in the shower, then head off straight to work — show up early with your excuse for yesterday's missing afternoon promptly in tow.

(I'm sorry. Didn't feel well. Started throwing up. Must've been something I ate. Won't happen again.)

But when your legs forget how to walk as soon as you pull into the driveway and you have to focus way too hard on just putting one foot in front of the other enough times to get yourself near the front door, you think maybe it's better to ring in sick.

Have a day in bed. Catch up on sleep.

Start again.

It's not like you make a habit out of bunking off. The last time you took a non-sick sick day you were sixteen and slamming school with Elvis.

(Scrawling your name on the backs of train seats. Hanging out in Macclesfield crematorium. Sharing cheap fags and bottles of blue WKD.)

Your mum, sat drinking a cup of tea in the living room, watching morning telly, wrapped up in the fluffy ASDA dressing gown and matching slipper set you bought her for Christmas, lifts an eyebrow as you slope in.

"What kinda time d'ya call this, mister?"

"Sorry..." You know she's only messing, but the apology falls out of your mouth anyway. You feel fucking sorry for everything lately. "Got talkin' with mates and lost track of time."

She nods. Once. Up.

(I see...)

"Did Elvis manage to catch up with you?"

Shit.

Elvis.

The text messages. The phone calls.

You'd almost forgotten about him.

"Nah, 'aven't seen him. Why, what's up?" You feign ignorance as you shrug out of your coat. Try to repress that horrible growing feeling that you've fucked up.

Again.

"I dunno, he wouldn't talk to me. Just came round last night looking for you. A state and a half, he was though."

"Yeah? He not say anything at all?"

"No. Just asking where you were. Said he'd been trying to get a hold of you, but your phone was off." She gives you a look that's part confusion part concern and wholly disbelief.

Your mum knows just as well as anyone that Elvis /always/ has you on call.

You've woken her up enough times fumbling about with your keys in the dark at three in the morning.

"Shit yeah... my battery died. Left the cable in my room."

"Well make sure you call him or go see him or something. He was a mess, the poor sod."

"I will, I will. I'll give him a bell."

"Good."

You turn to head off upstairs. Ready to crawl fully clothed into bed and give the fuck up.

"Oh, Dominic?"

"Hm?" Your head peeking back round the doorframe.

Your mum looking a bit skeptical over the rim of her cup. "You were /careful/ weren't you?"

"With what?"

Chipped polish nail tapping at her jugular.

Chipped polish nail suddenly making you burn up.

You duck your head. Instinctively cover your neck with your hand.

It's gonna be turtlenecks for a fortnight. You're gonna get ripped into by the lads at work.

"Course." You mutter. "Always am."

And it's true.

Kind of. In a way.

Because she certainly doesn't have to worry about you producing any little baby Woods.

(Not with what /you/ like to do...)

----

You're thirteen when Elvis gives up the glittering promise of a brighter future for you.

It's unexpected. (Like everything else he does.)

An important decision at an unimportant moment, chirped up out of the blue.

You're on your knees in the back garden, installing wheels on the wooden go-kart you've spent half the summer trying to build. Elvis is supervising (as always) his long rail-thin shadow doing its best to block out the orange glare of the sun.

He wants to help, you know he does. Frustrated by the limitations of bad eyes and bad hands, he's resigned himself to fetching everything you need and telling you where you've fucked up.

You don't mind, though. It's still a build that belongs to the both of you. And, considering neither of you can figure out how to fit any brakes, you're ninety-nine percent certain it's gonna get you both killed.

"Me Dad's moving to Blackpool. Got managing position at a pub. Says I can go live with him, if I want."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah..."

Focused on screwing the wheel to the steering crossbar, you don't look up.

Elvis carries on, "I wanna go, but..."

"Go. You should. I would. You could go down the fair and the beach every day and that."

"Yeah... I know..."

"And I could come see you. 'Ave a free 'oliday." You grin away to yourself. Imagining summer holidays spent darting in and out of arcades and eating fish and chips on the sea front. Going crabbing on hot days. Coming home with socks full of sand.

(Driving your mum mad.)

But when Elvis doesn't make any sound of approval and you finish tightening the last bolt on the wheel, you can only ask, "What's up?"

For a minute he doesn't say much. For a minute he just stands there, looking down at you, all peeling sunburn and scabby elbows and a fake shagger on his left forearm that he did to himself. And you know. You know he wants to go. You know he really does.

Elvis lives for excitement. For the unknown. He fucking /loves/ the idea of just packing up all his shit and running off.

Plus, he's always been closer to his old man. Ever since he caught meningitis at four years old and nearly died there's been this odd distance between him and his mum.

(Elvis is convinced she never wanted him - his dad was the one to name him, after all. You wonder if maybe she's just trying to protect herself from the ticking death bomb of a son she loves too much.)

So you don't understand, when Elvis just shrugs, then reaches out a hand to help you up.

"Bit far away, innit." He reasons. Like he's telling the truth. Like the non-obstacle obstacle is big enough.

"In't that kinda the point, though?" You gesture for Elvis to help you get the kart back onto four wheels. "Gettin' as far away as possible from this shithole?"

You stand back, hands on hips, proudly surveying your handiwork.

Elvis slides himself onto the karts 'driving seat'. A grubby 'welcome' mat you found in his dad's garage nailed down onto a wooden pallet.

"Yeah, but..." He plonks his feet onto either side of the steering crossbar, takes the accompanying rope in his inflamed hands, tests the turning, "...it's /our/ shithole, innit."

(Me and you.)

Then, before the topic can go any further, he throws you a devilish, dangerous smile, sudden fever lighting his eyes up, "Bagsy the first go?"

You hear them all before you see them.

While standing outside the hospital room. Gathering up the balls to go in.

"Did you even stop to think about this for one second?! Did it ever cross your mind how it might affect me??"

"You? What about /me/? Fuck's sake! Not everything's about you, Elvis!" Mattie's shout is shrill and aching with sobs, but the fact that she's even shouting at all puts you at ease.

(It's alright. He's alright. It's not the end.)

"Guys, maybe you should take a breather for a second. Shouting's not solving anything." Julian. The calm voice of reason. It's always him.

"You keep that nose out. It's got nothing to do with you." Specks.

"Oh fuck off, sis. It's nowt to do with you either. But you still can't help sticking your bleeding oar in."

It continues.

The bitching.

The bickering.

Until you realise there's no sign of it calming down any time soon, so you might as well just waltz right into the middle of it.

You've got no idea what the hell's got under everyone's skin, but Specks' outburst as soon as you crack open the door, gives you a bit of an inkling.

"Oh great! Misogynist bastard number three is here! Hip hip hooray, we're all saved!"

"Excuse me?" Your eyes case the room. Specks and Julian by the window, both glaring. It's the first time since you met the two that you can tell they're twins. Mattie in a chair in the corner, curled up into a tiny ball, tight as can be. "Elvis?" Your mate doesn't even spend the energy in acknowledgement. Just remains stood in the centre of the room with his arms folded and feet firmly planted like he owns the place. "Anyone wanna bother filling me in?"

It's not 'That'. But from the tension stretched all the way across the room you know it might as well be.

"Why don't you ask Suicide Sally, over there." Elvis snarls, practically spits.

You follow his gaze to crumpled little squeezed small Mattie, who looks like she wants nothing more than to escape.

"Aw come on, Elvis. You know that's not what this is." Julian. Again. Forever trying to talk shit out. Forever compelled by the urge to /verbalise/ things.

Elvis bristles. "Whose fucken side are you on, mate?!"

Julian shakes his head. "This isn't about taking sides, for god's sake. It's about what's best for Mattie."

"Oh yeah? And withdrawing from life saving treatment is best for her, is it? Just giving in?"

"She's not 'giving in'. She's not getting any better, mate. And the treatment's just making her sick. She's withdrawing because she'd rather spend her last months at home, comfortable. Not pumped full of chemicals in a hospital bed." Julian's speaking as much to you as to Elvis. "And rightly so. I don't blame her. I wouldn't wanna spend the rest of my life trapped in this place."

Elvis steps towards him, "You won't have a choice if that cock loving mouth of yours keeps on talking—"

"Oi." You're winding an arm round Elvis's chest before you know it. Gently easing him back. Reminding him who's he's threatening. Reminding him where he is.

Only as quickly as you diffuse the bomb between him and Julian, he spins, lit up and sparking again.

"And I don't know why the fuck /you/ came." He scoffs. You flinch. "You're a bit fucken late. Would have been useful if you'd bothered to turn up /before/ she signed her life away."

So that's what it is.

The bombardment of texts and calls and voice-mails.

(Come pick us up? Come pick us up? Otherwise known as 'I need you. I need you' in Elvis-speak.)

He'd thought you could talk her out of it. Believed you could be the one to make her see 'sense'.

You don't know why you feel like you've /failed/ him.

"I know. I'm sorry. I really am. It's just, I just, I went..." You flounder. Before you walked in you'd practiced all your excuses, got your story sorted out straight in your head. Now, standing in front of him — and Julian, and Mattie, and Specks — you can't remember a single fucking word of it. "I had to go pick up a thing, a delivery, for work. But it was way out. Up the M6. And I had to take the van. But it broke down. And I couldn't—"

Elvis holds up his hand. Cuts off your anxious verbal scrambling. "Save it, mate." He tells you. His words softer now. /Disappointed/. And you catch the momentary flick of his eyes to the side of your neck. To shifted fabric and a slither of exposed bruised up skin. "I just hope whichever slag you spent the night with your dick inside was /worth/ it."

Feeling yourself burning up for a second time today, you wince. Divert your attention to the floor. Avoid eye contact with Julian who's just on the edge of your peripheral vision, /frowning/.

"And you..." Elvis goes on, now addressing Mattie, "Fine. You go right ahead and kill yourself if that's what you want. Nobody's stoppin' you. But don't you /dare/ expect /me/ to stick around and watch you do it."

You struggle to keep your feet still, but you don't go after him.

You know Julian and Specks are waiting for it. Mattie too, probably.

But you can't do it.

Not when he's being this much of a dickhead. Not when you know, instinctively, that it's all just going to end up in fists.

You know he's spouting shit and doesn't mean a word he said. Projecting, most likely. And hurting, definitely. Leading to him dealing with it all the only way he knows how, you bet.

Elvis has never exactly possessed the most acceptable coping mechanisms.

But as you sit with Mattie sniffling into the broad arc of your shoulder, the glint of a diamond reflecting on the floor where she'd thrown her ring in rage, you can't help but feel like you're just /conditioned/ to make excuses for him.

"Take it." She says, later on, when you bend to rescue the ring from getting lost (or stolen) and turn to place it on the windowsill. "Take it, please. I don't wanna look at it."

And when you take no notice of her, placing it on the sill anyway, because it was bloody expensive, she yells, "I'm fucking serious, Dominic! I want it out of here. It's yours anyway, innit?!"

You glance down.

At the three hundred pound car fund sparkling on the tiniest gold band you've ever seen.

Technically, yes, it is.

Honestly, though, you don't want it.

(Why would you?)

Elvis will come crawling back (you hope) and the two of them will sort things.

But when Mattie looks like she might fall out with /you/ if you don't take it, you have no choice but to drop it into your pocket, muttering, "I'll give it back to Elvis..."

On your way out, Julian -- returning from a coffee run with a Costa tray, side-eyes you but says nothing. Nothing other than a silent 'you better fix this' or alternatively 'you're a prick' — you're not sure which.

And when you reach your car, your day just gets all the fucking better, when you find a far too familiar and viciously loved leather jacket hanging off your wing mirror, but absolutely no sign of Elvis.

Another tragic-romantic gesture.

Another fanciful unspoken message.

'Fuck you, Dominic.'

You wish you knew what went on his head. You wish he came with some sort of manual that could help you troubleshoot him, like your car did.

You're great at working out problems. Fucking brilliant at fixing shit. But it's starting to feel like every time you mend all of his fractured parts, Elvis just breaks again in a completely different place.

Because he's fantastically fragile in a way that nobody else sees. A heavily armoured, heartrendingly vulnerable, destructible-indestructible being. A walking contradiction. Determined to map out his life in poetry. Create some kind of idealised, ill-starred narrative in a world full of meaningless, painful coincidences.

He's playing a role. You know it. And it kills you a little bit every time you realise that you romanticise him.

Because that's precisely what he wants.

(And precisely everything you've always wanted to be.)

And it's precisely why you're always on the receiving end of gestures like this.

You're the one and only person in /deep/ enough to play his games. The only person who understands that every move he makes has some kind of sentimental hidden meaning.

You just wish, sometimes, that it was easier to read him. To find out what he needs.

And you just wish, sometimes, that he could find a way to act the theatrical rockstar without being such a dickhead.

Elvis doesn't answer your phone calls or your text messages.

When you go round his house carrying jacket and ring, his mum — appearing short-tempered and frustrated, informs you he isn't in.

You consider leaving the jacket with her, until you remember all of the comments she's made throughout the years about how much she hates it. And so you're destined to hang onto the damn thing.

Your entire friendship with Elvis passionately sewn and scuffed, and beaten and /bled/ into a physical object.

An object you have to store in your sister, Chantelle's, old room, because after three days of hanging in your wardrobe all your clothes stink of him.

And when he shuns all your repeated attempts at communication, you take a step back.

Anticipating his next move.

Waiting for him.

It only takes him a grand total of three weeks...

#ljlsdom #ljlspartfour

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