#peter tosh what you say

[whereisthedamndaddymanual]

I used to dig bridges with my hands

Now I dig hands with bridges.

[sweetblinginrose]

𝒑𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒕,

(Jonathan Byers x PlayboyModel fem!reader)

summary: Jonathan's first job in California is not what his friend promised, being a little more... dirty.

word count: 3,3k

warning: +18 small age difference (Jonathan is of legal age), nudes, porn magazine, embarrassing erection, blowjob, cum on face.

a/n: well, like, what can i say about this? obv, i wasn't inspired by anyone. it just popped into my head while thinking about another fanfic. ig it's like a headcanon that Jonathan used to work as a nude photographer or something. idk, just enjoy, ig lol ;p

masterlist

━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━

He was holding the letter with a mixture of hope and nervousness. The rough texture of the paper contrasted with the smoothness of his fingers, which caressed it almost unconsciously while his mind wandered between the possibilities that letter represented. It was more than just a piece of paper; it was the key to a future he longed for, a job in California that could change his life and that of his mother, Joyce, forever.

Money had always been a delicate subject at home. Joyce, with her job, managed to make ends meet, but always just barely. Jonathan wanted more than just survival; he wanted to live. That's why when Argyle, his long-haired friend with a scent of cheerful herbs, suggested that he apply to that photography agency, he didn't think twice. Argyle, who knew more about plants than people, had seen something in Jonathan, a creative spark that deserved to be explored and shared with the world.

The letter was from 'California Play-graphy', an agency unknown to the boy, with an incredible eagerness to know the answer it contained. Jonathan remembered Argyle's words: "Brother, your photos tell stories that words cannot. You have to show that to the world." And so, with a resume full of dreams and a letter that weighed more than gold, Jonathan found himself on the threshold of his future.

With a deep sigh, he broke the seal and unfolded the letter. The first words danced before his eyes: "Dear Jonathan, we are pleased to inform you...". A shout of joy escaped his lips, resonating in the small room, where Willy and Jane were also making a school project, and surely in the heart of Joyce, who eagerly awaited a package in the kitchen. Jonathan had landed a job, and with it, the promise of a fresh start.

The days leading up to Jonathan's first photo shoot at the agency passed slowly, each second filled with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. As the appointed day approached, Jonathan's nerves intensified, and he found solace in the company of Argyle, his friend and mentor in the art of calm. Together, they sat on Argyle's old leather sofa, which creaked under their weight, sharing stories and laughter. In their hands, a joint, which they lit with the solemnity of a ritual. Smoke wafted in spirals, carrying away some of the tension Jonathan felt. Argyle, always the philosopher, told him, "Relax, brother. Photography is like this plant, you have to let it flow."

And so, with the background sound of Peter Tosh singing about freedom and struggle, Jonathan allowed himself to let go. The lyrics of "Legalize It" or "Equal Rights" filled the room, and for a moment, everything seemed possible. Argyle, with his street wisdom and heart of gold, reminded Jonathan that life was more than just worries and that every photo he would take would be a reflection of his soul.

When the day finally arrived, Jonathan rose with the dawn. The first rays of sun filtered through the window, bathing the room in a golden light that promised a new beginning. With his camera hanging from his shoulder and the rest of his equipment under his arm, and a nervous smile, he bid farewell to his brother and Jane. He stepped out, and there was Argyle, the one responsible for bringing him to the studios and bringing him back. They drove while Argyle smoked until they reached the giant buildings, causing the long-haired guy to take off his sunglasses and lazily look up with his red eyes, seeing a giant Playboy logo, but since he was so high, he didn't pay much attention.

When they finally arrived, Argyle got out and started looking around, completely taken by the desserts of half-naked women, giving Jon a friendly pat on the back and telling him, "Go and capture the magic, brother."

Jonathan entered the gigantic building, having to go through two checks by giant security guards, reaching his destination. The room Jonathan had found was the epitome of minimalist elegance. The walls, painted in immaculate white, reflected the artificial light emanating from the wide spotlights, creating a serene and almost ethereal atmosphere. There were no paintings or decorations; the beauty lay in the simplicity of the space.

In the center, an asymmetrical velvet sofa stood as the centerpiece of the room. Its modern and daring design invited contemplation as much as rest. The light gray velvet seemed to change with the light, adding depth and texture to the environment. Despite its luxurious appearance, the sofa promised comfort, with soft cushions that seemed to embrace the body. Next to it, on a low glass table, rested a transparent cube. Inside, a pile of bright red cherries, each one a little balloon of sweetness, awaited to be enjoyed. The simplicity of the cube contrasted with the richness of the cherries, creating an intriguing and tempting focal point.

To the right, a producer stood, his gaze fixed on you, the woman who would be Jonathan's model, quite beautiful. His posture was that of someone accustomed to making quick and precise decisions, and his presence commanded respect. By your side, you shone like a golden vision. Your long, flowing robe cascaded from your shoulders to the floor, the golden fabric capturing the light and making you sparkle with every movement. The elegance of your attire contrasted with the informality of the producer, but together, they formed a dynamic and complementary duo.

Jonathan knew that this room, with its atmosphere of calm and careful aesthetics, was the perfect place for his first photo shoot. Here, his art would come to life. Or so he thought.

The producer, with his refined air and delicate gestures, glided through the room with the grace of a dancer. His eyes lit up at the sight of Jonathan, and with a warm smile, he approached him. "Bonjour, mon cher Jonathan," he said with a French accent that enveloped each word like a hug. Their cheeks met in a traditional greeting, two gentle kisses, one on each cheek, that resonated with a resounding muah.

As he spoke, his hands floated in the air, drawing shapes that accompanied his words. "Your talent is magnifique, and we are très excited to work with you," he continued, mixing French with English in a way that seemed almost poetic. Jonathan, although surprised by the effusiveness of the greeting, couldn't help but feel a little uncomfortable.

The producer, with his silk shirt and matching pocket square, was the embodiment of Parisian elegance, even thousands of kilometers away from France. "We are going to create art today, do you understand?" he declared confidently, guiding Jonathan to the set while continuing to give instructions, his voice a melodic murmur that promised an unforgettable session. "This work should be a dream come true for a jeune homme hétéro like you, no?" he laughed as he pointed at what Jonathan had to do. With his watch marking the rhythm of a busy day, he apologized with hurried elegance. "My apologies, I have an urgent matter to attend to," he said in his charming mix of French and English. With a gesture of his hand and one last approving glance at Jonathan, he slid out of the set, leaving behind a trace of his distinctive perfume and the promise of returning soon.

Jonathan and you, a few years older than him, with your golden robe, were left alone, surrounded by the pristine whiteness of the room. The absence of the producer filled the space with expectant silence. You turned to Jonathan, your eyes shining with a mixture of surprise and complicity in the unexpected situation. "I guess it's just you and me now," you said, with a smile that exuded confidence and grace. Jonathan nodded, feeling the weight of responsibility settle on his shoulders. However, your calmness and imposing presence gave him strength.

"We are going to make this session memorable," declared Jonathan, adjusting his camera with steady hands. You nodded and took your position on the set, your golden robe reflecting the light as if woven with threads from the same sun.

Jonathan began the session, with a sense of normality, although he sensed that something was not right. Suddenly, you raised a hand, requesting a pause. "The session is without the robe," you said in a soft but firm voice, quite seductive. Jonathan stopped, a little surprised, but nodded in understanding, thinking that you would be wearing an outfit underneath. You gracefully slid out of the golden robe, revealing your fully exposed chest, as well as your entire torso, wearing only a transparent thread-like fabric that 'covered' your intimate area, if that can be called covering.

In the warmth of the light emanating from the spotlights, your bronzed skin and your generous breasts merged into an illuminated tone, with no trace of bikini lines to disrupt the harmony of your smooth and sinuous skin. Every curve of your body was carefully sculpted, leaving no room for imperfections. The absence of hair left your skin impeccable, highlighting its smoothness. Your generously sized breasts stood proudly, crowned by pink nipples that contrasted perfectly with the tone of your lips. Jonathan, captivated by the vision of this goddess in front of him, could barely tear his gaze away from your abdomen, slowly descending until it met the tiny thread-like thong that barely covered the essentials. Without showing any hint of discomfort, you approached Jonathan with overwhelming confidence, asking him if he was truly prepared for the photo shoot.

Without waiting for a response, you reclined on the sofa, unleashing a wave of anticipation in the photographer. Every movement you made was calculated, every pose was a game of seduction meant to ignite the viewer's imagination. Your breasts, as they moved gracefully, seemed to whisper secrets to the wind, tempting the camera to capture your provocative essence.

Jonathan's tent, unable to contain his growing excitement, began to rise, oblivious to his will. Desperately seeking a way to hide his agitation, he crouched slightly, justifying the gesture as an attempt to improve the angle of the shot. In that moment, amidst the visual ecstasy, he was lost, unsure of what to do to conceal his growing desire.

His choice, palpable against his thighs, was a blazing reminder of his desperate need. The absence of female companionship for so long had heightened his desire, leaving him in a state of almost uncontrollable excitement. Jonathan's labored breathing did not go unnoticed by you, your attentive gaze, who, concerned about his sudden distress, placed a soft and elegantly manicured hand on his shoulder. The slight brush of your hand against his skin sent waves of electric sensations through Jon, moistening his underwear slightly with the pre-cum escaping from the tip of his sensitive bulge. The slight friction against his underwear only intensified his ecstasy, plunging him into a state of overwhelming pleasure.

From your point of view, Jonathan seemed on the verge of fainting, a concern that soon became a reality as the boy lost consciousness due to overexcitement. Skillfully, you held him as best you could and placed him on the sofa, watching him with concern as you considered your options. The idea of seeking medical help crossed your mind, but before you could act, something caught your attention. As you stooped to pick up a fallen object, you inadvertently exposed your buttocks and inner thighs close to the photographer's face. A nervous cough escaped from the boy's lips as he pretended to be asleep, trying to hide his growing excitement. However, once again, his tent gave him away before your eyes, who now faced an uncomfortable and tense situation.

After the awkward moment, you chose to act as if nothing had happened, aware that these situations were quite common in your profession. You decided to give Jonathan a few minutes to calm down, although you noticed that this boy was different: shy, charming, and respectful, as he made no comments about your body, which you quite liked.

After some time, you returned to face the camera, but this time the session took an unexpected turn. You incorporated cherries into your poses, strategically placing them on your nipples, causing the pink juice to seductively slide down your skin. With sensual movements, you bit the cherries and slid them over your abdomen, even above your intimate area. For Jonathan, this was completely different from what he had imagined photographing, but at the same time, it was exciting and fascinating. You, without averting your gaze from the camera, began to lightly touch yourself with the cherries, asking Jonathan if the image looked good. Unable to articulate a coherent response, Jonathan simply nodded with a "uhu" between his slightly parted lips, completely absorbed in the tempting vision before him.

Jonathan's excitement drove him to want to explore further, so he proposed to you to strike more provocative poses he had seen in old magazines. You readily accepted, but it soon became clear that you did not understand Jonathan's instructions, leading you to ask for help. With some hesitation, Jonathan approached you and asked permission to touch you, eliciting a playful giggle from you. No one had been so considerate with you before. With delicate, long hands, Jonathan positioned himself between your thighs, gently parting them to leave you fully exposed. With his other arm, he tilted your torso slightly towards the sofa, causing your buttocks to inadvertently brush against his erection, which was now vigorous again. You made no comment, as you were not at all displeased with the size, on the contrary, you began to find it attractive, especially now that it was positioned this way for the photos.

Jonathan lamented with great embarrassment, moving away from you.

He was preparing to take the photo when you removed the scant fabric covering your intimacy, leaving it completely exposed in front of Jon, who felt all the tension in his body melt away. The intimacy shared in that moment created a special bond between you, a connection that went beyond the photo shoot.

Confused but intrigued by your proposal, Byers asked you what you were doing. With a mischievous look and a suggestive smile, you responded that you wanted to experiment even more and find out if Jonathan was really the best. This statement ignited a spark in Jonathan, who let the camera rest on his neck and approached you, his palpable excitement filling the air. "What do you mean?" he murmured.

Your response unleashed a wave of desire in Jonathan, whose breathing became faster and shallower at your passionate touch on his tight and erect jeans. His hips instinctively moved closer to you, eager for the intimate contact you offered.

Far from rejecting him, you responded to Jonathan's desire with equal passion, touching and kissing every inch of the fabric covering his manhood. However, a question lingered in your mind: Was Jonathan just another virgin?

Without wasting time, you began to caress Jonathan's thighs, ascending from his knees to underneath them, causing an overwhelming sensation in Jonathan, who was on the verge of exploding.

With deliberate slowness, you proceeded to unfasten Jonathan's worn-out belt, while licking your lips with anticipation and watching him from below, enjoying the expression of desperation on his face, craving more of your expertise.

Finally, Jonathan's pants fell to the ground, revealing boxers stained by the pre-cum escaping from his overflowing excitement. The feeling of constriction around his member was evident, so you didn't hesitate to lower them, freeing Jonathan's thick cock.

Jonathan couldn't believe it. He was going to be sucked by a girl with a scandalous body.

His cock was firm and throbbing, generously sized, and adorned with prominent veins that marked its vigor. The head was swollen and glossy, dripping with the essence of his uncontrollable desire. With each beat, it seemed to throb with a life of its own, eager to be caressed and adored by the goddess before it. Some spasms caused the cock to rise slightly.

With a lustful gaze, you leaned forward, bringing your face closer to Jonathan's thick cock. Your breath became irregular, anticipating the taste and texture of the throbbing member that was about to be explored. With deliberate movements, you wrapped your lips around the swollen tip of Jonathan's cock, savoring the prelude to his excitement. The sensation of warmth and moisture enveloped every inch of his member, sending waves of pleasure throughout his body.

With expert skill, you began to slide your tongue along Jonathan's long shaft, tracing tempting circles as you slowly descended towards the base. Each suction was a promise of ecstasy, each movement of your lips an invitation to deeper pleasure. Jonathan clung to the sofa, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations that engulfed him.

When Jonathan's cock disappeared completely into the warm cavern of your mouth, a guttural groan escaped from his lips, lost in the ecstasy of the moment. Your movements were expert and coordinated, alternating between gentle sucking and quick thrusts that made Jonathan quiver with pleasure.

Time seemed to stand still as you continued your work, bringing Jonathan to the edge of the abyss of pleasure. Each stroke of your tongue, each passionate suction, brought him closer and closer to the precipice of orgasm.

And then, just as Jonathan felt he could no longer hold back, you intensified your movements, bringing him to the most glorious climax. With a muffled cry, Jonathan surrendered to the wave of pleasure that overwhelmed him, releasing his load of ecstasy into your mouth, gripping your head tightly, restricting your movement. In that moment, he didn't think about Nancy or any other model, only about you.

With skill, you received every drop of his cum with devotion, allowing Jonathan's essence to slide over your tongue and fill your mouth with its intoxicating flavor. But when it seemed to be all done, Jonathan shot another stream onto your face, causing a mischievous smile from you, thinking that it would be the perfect moment to take a photo, finding yourself damn sexy.

And when Jonathan finally finished, you moved away slowly, allowing your gaze to meet his, your faces bathed in the And when Jonathan finally finished, you moved away slowly, allowing your gaze to meet his, your faces bathed in the shared ecstasy of a moment of unbridled passion.

"You've got a good cock, photographer," you whispered, giving him a spank, winking at him, and wiping your face with your golden robe, leaving it covered in traces of that hot liquid.

—> Plus.

"Brother, look at the cover of the new PlayBoy!" exclaimed Argyle, entering his van and throwing a magazine at Jonathan, surprising him. "I just stole it from the gas station attendant while he was peeing, so we should go now..."

On the cover, your lustful eyes stared directly at the camera, while the liquid rested on your face, causing a familiar sensation in Jonathan's pants.

"I should have asked for her number before I got kicked out for fucking the model," Jonathan thought, sighing and throwing the magazine back. The page opened to a photo taken by him, where he played with the cherries and they dripped on your nipples.

[angelcakes12332]

The Bridge was Burned, but the Path Remained by angelcakes12332

Summary:

Effie receives a letter from her son, asking for her assistance in delivering a letter for a new friend he’s made at school. Effie takes on this mission with one thought on her mind.

She will not fail.

Regulus is not looking forward to his time at Grimmauld place without Sirius. He expects to be lonely and miserable while his brother spends his first year away at Hogwarts.

A curious stranger ensures he’s neither of those things.

Dear Mum,

You and Dad were right about Hogwarts, I can’t believe a place like this exists! The sorting happened last night, and I’m in Gryffindor! Sorry Mum, I know you were hoping I’d be in your house. Tell dad the fight with the chimera was cancelled due to high winds. (Ha! Also tell him, I’m going to get him back for that!)

The feast after the sorting was like nothing I’ve ever seen! The food was amazing! (Not better then yours though, Mum!)

My dorm mates are pretty great! Peter made it to Gryffindor! I knew he could do it! He says hi, by the way. Remus Lupin is my other roommate, he’s a bit quiet, but like in a really cool way? You know? And my last roommate is a boy named Sirius Black—

Euphemia Potter sat her tea cup down on its saucer with a loud clank as she sat up in her chair.

Monty glanced up from his copy of the Dailey prophet, “everything all right, Effie?”

She sent him a shaky smile. “I’m fine, just reading James’ letter.”

Monty sent her a smirk. “Oh? So you’ve heard then? That you’re outnumbered.”

She rolled her eyes. “Outnumbered?” She scoffed.

Monty snickered, his gazing dropping back to the prophet.

She hid a smile behind her next sip of tea. There was no doubt in her mind that her son would follow in his father’s footsteps.

She’d raised him, hadn’t she?

She returned her gaze to James’ letter, unable to stop herself from rereading the name.

—Sirius Black. He’s apart of that ancient or noble something and other!

Unsuccessfully, she bit back a snort of laughter, waving off Monty’s amused glare, she continued reading.

But he’s in Gryffindor, one of the only Gryffindors in his family, he says. He seems a bit nervous about that bit. I think it’s brilliant! He says he doesn’t believe in all that blood purity tosh the way his family does, which is why he couldn’t wait to get away from them.

Most of his worry, about being in Gryffindor I mean, is for his little brother, Reggie. Sirius doesn’t think his mum will let him write to him, because she doesn’t want him to fill Reggie’s head with drivel.

(What is drivel?)

He seems really worried though, Mum, that Reggie won’t even be allowed to read the letter Sirius sent. So we’ve sent a copy of it with this one. I told Sirius how brilliant you are, and how you’d make sure his little brother got his letter. Would you?

Love,

James

Effie stared at the words a moment longer, before checking the envelope, and sure enough there, folded slightly to fit the smaller space, was another letter with To: Reggie assigned on the front in a script so extravagant it made her heart clench.

She stood abruptly tucking the envelope enclosed letter into the fold of her Saree.

Monty glanced up, “where are you headed?”

“To visit an old friend, I think.”

[lebaronlordking]

Saturday Afternoon Reggae Show DJ LeBaron Lord King lebaron@kpoo.com March 9, 2024

saturdayafternoonreggaeshow

4:00 PM Alton Ellis - Pearls 4:02 PM Inna De Yard - Row Fisherman 4:05 PM Jah Bouks - Angola 4:09 PM Sara Lugo - High & Windy 4:13 PM Earl 16 - Walls of the City 4:17 PM Chezidek - All Ive Got 4:21 PM Trudi Harrison - Black Voice 4:24 PM Peter Tosh - Bush Doctor 4:31 PM Burna Boy - Last Last 4:33 PM Jo Mersa Marley - No Way Out 4:37 PM Kabaka Pyramid - Mr. Rastaman 4:40 PM The Wailers - Guiltiness 4:43 PM Kabaka Pyramid - Well Done 4:47 PM Groundation - Jah Jah Know 4:54 PM Khalia - Double Trouble 5:00 PM Damian Marley - Wanted 5:04 PM Dezarie - Not One Penny 5:08 PM Alborosie - Journey to Zion 5:13 PM Black Uhuru - Guess Who's Coming To 5:19 PM Lee Perry - Bird In Hand 5:22 PM Stick Figure - Old Sunrise 5:27 PM Tappa Zukie - Judge I Oh Lord 5:31 PM Yaadcore - Say That You Love Me 5:35 PM Yaadcore - Sufferation 5:39 PM Lila Iké - Dinero 5:41 PM Jah Izrehl - Culture 5:44 PM Libianca - People 5:47 PM Rocky Dawuni - Shade Tree 5:51 PM Cedric Myton - Not Counterfeit 5:54 PM Maxi Priest - Should I 5:58 PM The Wailers - Forever Loving Jah 6:03 PM Burning Spear - Jay Kingdom 6:06 PM Carlene Davis - Ism Schism 6:10 PM Alton Ellis - Girl You Can’t Be My Wife 6:13 PM Tarrus Riley - Guess Who 6:16 PM Roots And Tings - Dangerous 6:19 PM Stephen Marley - Hey Baby 6:24 PM Baba Ras - Real Vegetarian 6:29 PM Aleighcia Scott - Oh Mama 6:32 PM Dennis Brown - Run Too Tough 6:36 PM Damian Marley - My Sweet Lord 6:39 PM T.Natty - Spread Love 6:42 PM Jaqee - Take a Stand 6:46 PM Joseph Benaiah - We Nah Give Up 6:51 PM Anthony B - What Dat 6:54 PM Nature Ellis - Woman

[jeremiekroubodagnini]

INSIDE THE ARCHIVES: AN INTERVIEW WITH HERBIE MILLER

Out of my personal archives here is an interview I conducted with Herbie Miller – current Director/ Curator of the Jamaican Music Museum (JaMM) – on 27 November 2006. If my memory serves me well, I had been introduced to Herbie Miller a few days before by the late Professor Alston “Barry” Chevannes, sociologist and authority on Rastafari. When I met Herbie, he was completing his PhD in cultural studies at the University of the West Indies (UWI), Mona, Jamaica.  His doctoral research dealt with Jamaican ska trombonist Don Drummond. Some excerpts of this interview appear in my book, Vibrations jamaïcaines (French language), but it has never been fully published until now. So, fasten your seatbelt and let’s dive into this deep conversation dealing with various topics of interest such as Bob Marley, Peter Tosh, Bunny Wailer, Rastafari,  Mortimo Planno, Jamaican politics, the unsolved assassination attempt on Bob Marley, the evolution of Jamaican music and the Rolling Stones among others.  

Herbie Miller and me in his office at UWI, 27 November 2006. © JKD

JKD: Hi Herbie, nice to meet you!

Herbie Miller: Nice to meet you Jeremie.

First of all, can you just introduce yourself and tell me the position you hold here at UWI?

Well, I’m Herbie Miller. My position here is in the capacity of completing my own PhD in cultural studies. At present I’m a…God what they call it? There’s a word in some sort of Department, something I am, at this point I’m not even sure of what it is! (Laughs)

(Laughs). I heard that you used to be the manager of Peter Tosh. When exactly?

I managed Peter when he embarked in a sort of career from 1976 to about 1982-83.

Right. You know, Bob Marley, Peter Tosh and Bunny Wailer were friends but had a different personality. Can you tell me the main characteristics of each person and how they differed from each other?

Well, of course, you can see in both Marley’s work and his personality that he was really a thinking musician. He brought a lot of militancy and spirituality to his music. At the same time, he was quite outgoing, he was also quite reclusive. It all depended on what the situation was. He was outgoing in the sense that he went to public events, especially soccer. He went to night clubs and stuff like that. He was private in the sense that, to a great extent, Bob was very withdrawn and shy, I could say. He was quite aware of his stature and who he was and as a result he understood that in many ways he had to secure that self. He couldn’t just go out there as the average citizen. So in that respect he understood his position, his place and guarded it to some extent. Peter, on the other hand, was totally outgoing in every way. Peter was the type of person who went to football games and sport events as Bob and Bunny would. But he was outgoing in that he was a man of the streets. He was not shy, he would talk to people. His personality is perceived as one that is quite extremely militant if not revolutionary. To some, he was angry, to others he was jovial, critical, sensitive, generous, humorous, funny as hell, quite a complex personality Peter was. Bunny is perhaps the more reclusive, remains the more reclusive as a matter of fact [Editor’s note: Bunny Wailer was still alive at the time of the interview in 2006]. As all the fans know, Bunny was the first to give up being a fulltime public figure. He recorded, he was a great soccer player, he has his own community of followers and community in which he’s very relaxed. He was at the same time guarded and it’s perhaps to the extent that he has survived. So, three different types of videos. Get together the main one great if not the greatest unity as a single voice.

Bob Marley and Peter Tosh at Capital Records, 24 October 1973. © Screenshot from a film directed by Lee Jaffe and Leon Russell

Did they turn to the Rastafari faith at the same time?

I think they all of them embarked on the tradition and self discovery at about the same time. Bunny might have been ahead of Bob and Peter in that respect but I’m not sure. The biographies are out there, the biographic videos are out there, the testaments are out there, I wasn’t that close to know but I do know that all three of them defended the Rastafari faith strongly.

And were the three of them followers of Planno or was Bob Marley the only one?

I think all three embarked on the tradition under Planno’s guidance. I think Bob stick with it and maintains his close relationship to Planno the longest.

Then the relationship between Planno and Marley broke up at some point. Do you know why?

I haven’t a clue. I don’t know about that, no!

Mortimer Planno in Lagos (Nigeria), July 1979. © Tam Fiofori

So how do you explain that Bunny Wailer and Peter Tosh decided to quit the band after the second album?

Do I have to explain that? They have explained it over and over themselves. There are lots of interviews with Peter where he explains it. You know, Peter basically felt that the three of them were strong in the videos, correctly so. He also knew that as a group they were extremely strong but that the focus on the group had become the focus on Bob Marley. And Peter felt that he needed his own attention. In fact, Peter was the first of the three of them to record solo. He always recorded as Peter Tosh and he always recorded as a part of the Wailers. And it was not put any hard feeling that Peter decided to go on his own. Bunny, on the other hand, had philosophical reasons why he decided to quit. He just thought that he was up to the heavy tour and schedule and at some point felt uncomfortable with some of the places in which they had to perform.

Bunny Wailer backstage at the Zénith Paris, 21 April 2007. © JKD

Do you think that in the 70s, politicians tried in a way to co-opt the Rasta movement and reggae singers?

By the 70s, Rastafari was going through and had gone through a series of oppression on behalf of different governments. And so by the early 70s, with the wind of change blowing in the air, of course it was an advantage for politicians to give some sort of recognition to Rastas; perhaps just stopping short of making the grand promises. And certainly with the closeness to the musicians, and the music, and the people that the politicians had at that point, particularly the PNP, they saw they could really utilize musicians and securing votes. And certainly the musicians reacted to it positively; they participated in political band wagons around the country. That featured some of the best artists of the moment.

"to the vast amount of poor people and sufferers and roots people and Rasta people and African-Jamaican-Black people down there on the ground nothing supersedes the Wailers"

And what was Peter Tosh’s point of view on this situation? Was he cautious regarding the links between politics and artists?

I think the fact that they performed for a particular party reveals a particular mindset or way of thinking or direction in which they thought the politics should head. So by the mere fact that they participated, you know, cautious in the fact that we all are cautious around election time to the extent that we are involved with it or not involved with it, but everybody gets cautious at that time. And so I imagine that, yes, they were cautious, but at the same time they thought that change was necessary and that they could provide people with a direction if they identify with a particular party and what direction that party could head.

You know, Bob Marley was about to be killed at the time of the Smile Jamaica concert. Do you think that there are some links between the election and this assassination attempt?

Of course the world of the streets is of such. The official opinion is that the verdict is still out. You know, it’s one of those things that happened. It’s in the past. It might not be totally settled in terms of who did what? Who sent whom? And so on. I certainly am not private to that information if it is, if it has been declared.

In the late 70s some say that the Wailers were more popular in Europe than in Jamaica. Is it true and if so, do you know why?

It depends on which Jamaica you are talking about! The Wailers have always been popular among a certain group of Jamaicans.

Which group?

The people, people of the streets. They have always been popular whether or not they were played on the radio or they were performing live or even if they were recording at all. The Wailers was the people’s group above every other group. By none! The people who they became popular to later on are those who initially rejected them, who had no use for them, no use for them until the same people talk about them in Europe and abroad accepted them; and say look “This is great!” Then these other set a folks basically up the band wagon. But the Wailers were never unpopular, never unpopular. No, they might not have been in the charts at a given time as others were and among a certain middle-class or elite, but to the vast amount of poor people and sufferers and roots people and Rasta people and African-Jamaican-Black people down there on the ground nothing supersedes the Wailers, none, at any given time.

What’s your general opinion on the evolution of Jamaican music and the new generation of artists?

I think that good things are happening, lots of great things are happening. Jamaican music has never been more internationally popular, meaning to say bursting into the charts, making waves on big radio stations, popping up outside of just the narrow so-called reggae category in the Grammys and all over. Jamaica is attracting musicians of all sorts coming into mix and deal with the music on the new level. They have always come, from the days of ska they have been coming but today it might be commercially much more popular than it ever was. Qualitatively speaking, the tourist is out, ska was not but “boogooyaga” music to the same people who later on embraced the culture because they control the airwaves, they control the newspaper, they control the print, they control everything. And Jamaican culture to them was not reflected in Rasta people and local aesthetics. It was reflected in a Euro-centric foreign taste across the board: clothes, food, music, whatever. To the poors, that be that’s what counted. From ska to rocksteady we still had visitors coming to the island, Paul Simon, Herbie Mann, Aretha Franklin etc. Reggae: Barbra Streisand, Joe Cocker, Eric Clapton, Taj Mahal and this goes on. And today with a new breed of music makers and music appreciators, they have hip-hop and rap and dancehall reggae. And those are the people; that’s happening today. The same people ant the same set of folks in the same Jamaican society are calling everything else but artists. That put them down, they say “this the sing, talk, chat, slackness and so on”. I don’t know, I don’t even understand some of what them say, all I know is the beat to most of the song really grab you. And if the beat grabs you at some points you try to figure out if you’re dancing to youth calamity or you’re dancing to glory. You know, young guys such as yourself, I’m sure, can relate to what’s going on, especially if you bash down class and race and barriers such as those that prevent people from all heartily accepting change. Because this really is changing, nothing stands still! Rock time music turning to boogie-woogie music turning to big band music, turning to bebop music turning to hard bop, along the way are the way up to the 60s, Coltrane and Ernest Goodman, at every point of that change there were people critics and some musicians who say that is crap. Louis Armstrong called Dizzy Gillespie Chinese music. So we’ll never get rid of that! Some classic reggae artist from the 70s, I’m sure, are calling this music trash. We don’t know, I don’t know! I am waiting to see out. But I know there are lots of good things out there.

But it seems that artists from the 70s like Max Romeo or the Gladiators are more popular in Europe than in Jamaica today. Why according to you?

That’s not a strange thing, you know? In Europe, 1960 soul artists are still making headline gigs. At home, they stay at home and watch TV. Nobody cares about them at home in America. I remember when…what’s his name again? He was doing in New Orleans a song called “Get Out of My Life, Woman,” I think Dorsey was his last name.

Max Romeo at home (Linstead, Jamaica), 21 November 2006. © JKD

Lee Dorsey?

Yes, that’s it, Lee Dorsey. He was a mechanic in America but a headline in Europe. Lee Dorsey was his name, a headline in Europe but a mechanic in New Orleans, who cares? Blues singers were the same, they could make a big gig over in England, Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf,all of them, but in America nobody really cares. It’s the same thing with the reggae thing. Nobody cares about Burning Spear performing down the year, Jimmy Cliff just performed for the first time in many years. Most of these great artists in spite of…you see here is the cutting edge place, this is where the new trends take place. They establish things with a firm whole, they are over in Japan, they are over in Africa, they are in Europe, in South America, the classic guy that’s where they are. Soon or later, Buju, Capleton, Bushman, Sizzla, those I think are some of the stronger ones today. Certainly, in my estimation, they will become classic performers and whatever will replace them, somebody will be asking “You think that this music is as good as dancehall music?” “How come dancehall artists are not performing in Jamaica any more but only in these other places?” And that what will happen like everything else! Things change but there are all just ska children.

I’d like to have your opinion on another topic. You know, lots of artists sing about Africa and the back-to-Africa movement, but it seems that actually just a few of them truly go to Africa.

I think the song of Africa that comes out of reggae artists and that comes out in reggae songs is a way to deal with the fact that we, in Jamaica, especially those of us influenced by Rastafari’s thinking and Marcus Garvey’s thinking, have always seen Africa as the original homeland. I don’t think it’s so much that any of them necessarily have to or perhaps even want to live in Africa. I think they live in Africa inside of their heads. Once you can come to grips with the idea that they are sons and daughters of Africa, I think the level of comfort is a relaxed one. The tension arises when they can’t figure out who they are. The fact is that they are Jamaicans. The world view of that particular Jamaica is that is in Africa, not necessarily living in Africa or having to live there. They sing about it, about the past, the history and when Burning Spear says “Do you remember the days of slavery,” Spear isn’t asking as if to say “he read about it or heard about it,” he asks that question in such a way as if to say “I remember because I was there” and when he asks he wants you and us to remember as if we were also there because the fact is that we were there. So this is a sort of cultural, historic memory, a sort of collective memory if you will that allows that sort of language to emerge.  Not I was told about it or I learnt about it or I read about it but I remember it! When Third World say “96 degrees in the shade” it’s like they know what they are talking about. They didn’t learn that in school and so on. Hence the relationship to Africa and colonization is a mental thing, you’re decolonising your mind and set yourself free. Marley said in “Redemption Song” “Emancipate yourself from mental slavery/ None but ourselves can free our mind.” So those are profound philosophical reasonings to deal with that situation. And that’s why they sing so much about it. Whether or not they go to Africa to perform is based on the fact that if you get invited to go perform somewhere you go. But artists don’t pick up themselves and just say “I want to go perform in Europe….” And of course Africa isn’t set up like that. The rest of Europe is perhaps set up and you can just pick up the phone and book an agent and blah blah blah. Probably where in Europe some African companies say “Man come play in my town…”..there is no big organized music industry in Africa to deal with it the way we deal in Latin America and Europe and Japan. Everywhere else you take a chance as long as you go. You feel it and for better or for worst you deal with it.

So I’d like to conclude this interview with a few questions on Peter Tosh. First, when you toured with the Rolling Stones, did they get along together?

They got along great, you know, they really got along fine. They were a bunch of crazy guys the Stones and… We toured together, we worked together, Peter was signed to their label, we ate together, we did things together… You know, the Stones basically brought Peter internationally so we had to be close. And that just came about because they wanted to sign Peter when he was available for signing at the end of his contract with CBS Records, now Sony Music. And they expressed that opinion through a mutual friend that Sony had. We negotiated to do them and I made the deal.

When did you tour exactly?

It was in the late 70s I believe. It was the year Mystic Man came out. I think it was around 77-79.

© Peter Tosh, Mystic Man, 1979, Rolling Stones Records - 1C 064-62 914

So it was good times?

It was real good times. It was a time when you could see growth, you could see the things moving from point A onwards, growth was visible.

And the Stones came to Jamaica?

Oh Yes. In fact, I think Keith had a place here and he still comes here. He came just to chill out and hang out with Peter and stuff like that.

Keith Richards, Ocho Rios. © Lee Jaffe

Peter was as you said very radical and he also used to criticize the Establishment openly and stuff like that. Do you think that he might have been assassinated because of that?

Many theories fly around. I myself was not involved with Peter at the time that happened, unfortunately. It was an unfortunate incident. I don’t know what was happening with his new management people. What I do know is that there was some sort of stand off, he wasn’t recording, he wasn’t touring. They obviously wanted him to record and tour. I know that there was some sort of lawsuit that apparently he won. People demanded money at his house and…perhaps it was just a robbery. I’ve heard assassination theories, I’ve heard the government theories, I’ve heard the drugs theories that one I can without any doubt tell you Peter would not be involved with. Peter smoked weed, that’s it! Nothing else. He doesn’t sell it. He gives it away. He doesn’t trade in it and as far as I know, as long as I was with him, I have nothing to do with people who were involved that way. So all these arguments about Peter both somebody taking a rob from Peter, I don’t buy that.

My last question deals with his famous M16 guitar for sale on eBay [Editor’s note: in November 2006, Peter Tosh’s M16 rifle-shaped guitar had been posted on Internet auction site eBay before being called off]. May I have your point of view on that?

You can read my point of view, it came out, it was the second article about it in the Jamaica Observer. If you read this second piece which came out in the Jamaica Observer, some two weeks ago, you’ll see exactly how I feel about it.

You feel sad I suppose?

More than sad, I feel totally upset. When you’ll read it you’ll see exactly how I feel. Read it! (Laughs).

Thank you for your time Herbie.

You’re welcome Jeremie. You’re welcome.

Peter Tosh, 1976. © Lee Jaffe

Herbie Miller giving a lecture at the ACS Crossroads Conference, July 2008. © JKD

© JKD, 27 November 2006, Kingston.

[whatilistenedtoatwork]

From August 14th to August 17th, 2023

14-08-23

BUTTHOLE SURFERS “Butthole Surfers”; THE FUTUREHEADS “This Is Not The World”; GRIZZLY BEAR “Veckatimest”; BOBBY WOMACK “Communication”; RIDE “Going Blank Again”; FRANKIE COSMOS “Close It Quietly”; LCD SOUNDSYSTEM “Sound Of Silver”; RUN-DMC ”Tougher Than Leather”; WILLIE NELSON “The Troublemaker”; THE BLUETONES “Return To The Last Chance Saloon”

15-08-23

HELLOWEEN “Keeper Of The Seven Keys: Part I”; THE REPLACEMENTS “Tim”; ARLO PARKS “Collapsed In Sunbeams”; WILLIE NELSON “Shotgun Willie”; MEGADETH “Countdown To Extinction”; OYSTERBAND “Step Outside”; PUBLIC ENEMY “Muse Sick-N-Hour Mess Age”; THE TEMPTATIONS “Temptations Live!”; ABERFELDY “Do Whatever Turns You On”; DIANA ROSS & MARVIN GAYE ”Diana & Marvin”; SAY SUE ME “”The Last Thing Left”; BATTLEFIELD BAND “Battlefield Band”; DIANA ROSS & THE SUPREMES AND THE TEMPTATIONS “Together”

16-08-23

GOLEM “Citizen Boris”; THE FLAMING LIPS “Transmissions From The Satellite Heart”; WIND ROSE “Stonehymn”; THE BEAUTIFUL SOUTH “Choke”; SLAYER “Seasons In The Abyss”; PETER TOSH “Equal Rights”; WIRE “A Bell Is Just A Cup… Until It Is Struck”; BURNING SPEAR “Man In The Hills”; BMX BANDITS “Star Wars”; SKUNK ANANSIE “Stoosh”; JOHN LEE HOOKER “Folk Blues”

17-08-23

LUCINDA WILLIAMS “Lucinda Williams”; THE NATIONAL “Alligator”; PINK FLOYD “The Piper At The Gates Of Dawn”; CLARENCE WHEELER & THE ENFORCERS “Doin’ What We Wanna”; NEUTRAL MILK HOTEL “On Avery Island”; JULIAN COPE “Skellington 2”; CULTURE “Cumbolo”; SLY & THE FAMILY STONE “ “There’s A Riot Goin’ On”; WIRE “The Ideal Copy”; STEEL PULSE “Handsworth Revolution”; DAVE MATTHEWS BAND “Everyday”; THE TEMPTATIONS “Cloud Nine”; RUNNING WILD “Port Royal”; LEISUE “Leisure”; MORRISSEY “Viva Hate”; BUTTHOLE SURFERS “Independent Worm Saloon”; NEUTRAL MILK HOTEL “In The Aeroplane Over The Sea”

[7r0773r]

The Perseverance by Raymond Antrobus

ECHO

I

My ear amps whistle as if singing to Echo, Goddess of Noise, the ravelled knot of tongues, f blaring birds, consonant crumbs of dull doorbells, sounds swamped in my misty hearing aid tubes. Gaudí believed in holy sound and built a cathedral to contain it, pulling hearing men from their knees as though Deafness is a kind of Atheism. Who would turn down God? Even though I have not heard the golden decibel of angels, I have been living in a noiseless palace where the doorbell is pulsating light and I am able to answer.

II

What?

A word that keeps looking in mirrors, in love with its own volume.

What?

I am a one-word question, a one-man patience test.

What?

What language would we speak without ears?

What?

Is paradise a world where I hear everything?

What?

How will my brain know what to hold if it has too many arms?

III

The day I clear out my dead father's flat, I throw away boxes of moulding LPs: Garvey, Malcolm X, Mandela speeches on vinyl.

I find a TDK cassette tape on the shelf. The smudged green label reads Raymond Speaking. I play the tape in his vintage cassette player

and hear my two-year-old voice chanting my name, Antrob, and Dad's laughter crackling in the background, not knowing I couldn't hear the word "bus"

and wouldn't until I got my hearing aids. Now I sit here listening to the space of deafness—

Antrob, Antrob, Antrob.

IV

And if you don't catch nothing then something wrong with your ears— they been tuned to de wrong frequency.'       KEI MILLER

So maybe I belong to the universe underwater, where all songs are smeared wailings for Salacia, Goddess of Salt Water, healer of infected ears, which is what the doctor thought I had, since deafness did not run in the family but came from nowhere; so they syringed olive oil and salt water, and we all waited to see what would come out.

V

And no one knew what I was missing until a doctor gave me a handful of Lego and said to put a brick on the table every time I heard a sound. After the test I still held enough bricks in my hand to build a house and call it my sanctuary, call it the reason I sat in saintly silence during my grandfather's sermons when he preached The Good News I only heard as Babylon's babbling echoes.

***

THE PERSEVERANCE

'Love is the man overstanding’          PETER TOSH

I wait outside The Perseverance. Just popping in here a minute. I'd heard him say it many times before like all kids with a drinking father, watch him disappear into smoke and laughter.

There is no such thing as too much laughter, my father says, drinking in The Perseverance until everything disappears— I'm outside counting minutes, waiting for the man, my father to finish his shot and take me home before

it gets dark. We’ve been here before, no such thing as too much laughter unless you're my mother without my father, working weekends while The Perseverance spits him out for a minute. He gives me 50p to make me disappear.

50p in my hand, I disappear like a coin in a parking meter before the time runs out. How many minutes will I lose listening to the laughter spilling from The Perseverance while strangers ask, where is your father?

I stare at the doors and say, my father is working. Strangers who don't disappear but hug me for my perseverance. Dad said this will be the last time before, while the TV spilled canned laughter, us, on the sofa in his council flat, knowing any minute

the yams will boil, any minute, I will eat again with my father, who cooks and serves laughter good as any Jamaican who disappeared from the Island I tasted before overstanding our heat and perseverance.

I still hear popping in for a minute, see him disappear. We lose our fathers before we know it. I am still outside The Perseverance, listening for the laughter.

***

TWO GUNS IN THE SKY FOR DANIEL HARRIS

When Daniel Harris stepped out of his car the policeman was waiting. Gun raised.

I use the past tense though this is irrelevant in Daniel's language, which is sign.

Sign has no future or past; it is a present language. You are never more present than when a gun

is pointed at you. What language says this if not sign? But the police officer saw hands

waving in the air, fired and Daniel dropped his hands, his chest bleeding out onto concrete

metres from his home. I am in Breukelen Coffee House in New York, reading this news on my phone,

when a black policewoman walks in, two guns on her hips, my friend next to me reading

the comments section: Black Lives Matter. Now what could we sign or say out loud

when the last word I learned in ASL was alive? Alive—both thumbs pointing at your lower abdominal,

index fingers pointing up like two guns in the sky.

[musicarenagh]

Nadirah X Collaborates With Bosaya On New Single 'Let Love Surround You' Nadirah X is a rising talent in the music business who is creating waves with her explosive lyrics, wordplays, and punchlines. She lives in Los Angeles and is a singer, songwriter, and rapper. Nadirah's musical talent is unmatched, and she has made a name for herself as one of the best female MCs in the business. Her position in the business has been firmly established. The journey that Nadirah has taken with her music has been nothing short of incredible. She is the first rapper in the history of the genre to have collaborated with the great Annie Lennox in terms of songwriting and performance. In the movie "The Women," you can hear the pair perform their version of "Womankind" which is included in Annie Lennox's solo album "Songs of Mass Destruction." A number of Nadirah's songs have reached number one on the charts in the past, including "Nobody's Coming" with Olaf Blackwood and "Brainstorm" starring Chali 2NA of Jurassic 5, both of which were released in the past. "Let Love Surround You," her most recent studio album, is a powerful emotional outpouring that shows off her skills as a singer and composer. Ned Douglas made the album, which features the singing and songwriting skills of the Russian musician Galina Bosaya. The song "Let Love Surround You" is the album's first single, and it is a slow-paced yet emotionally charged piece with a powerful ethereal hook and chorus performed by Bosaya. Bosaya's voice is featured prominently throughout the song. The bonus music video, which was directed by Cindy Gomez and shot by Vadim Zariuta, is a simple but stunning piece of art. It shows Bosaya performing in front of beautiful mountains and a gorgeous sunset. The music of Nadirah X is not only creative, but it is also a reflection of her own personal experiences, which helps listeners connect with the music on a deeper level. Her music has the unrivalled ability to connect with listeners on an emotional level. Because she has a unique way of singing and is very good at music, she is quickly becoming one of the most anticipated performers in the music business. [caption id="attachment_42234" align="alignnone" width="1440"] Nadirah X Collaborates With Bosaya On New Single 'Let Love Surround You'[/caption] Who are your biggest musical influences? Peter Tosh, Queen Latifah, Nina Simone, Tanya Stephens, and Jimmy Cliff, to name a few. What inspired you to write your latest album/song? I’m always writing, you know, there is a lot going on, on this planet. I enjoy observing not only society but also myself and where I am as a human being as I move from one situation to the next. I believe that shows in the presentation of my music. I try to write from an honest place. So living itself is my inspiration… What message do you hope to convey through your music? Love and self-reflection, striving to be a better person, while maintaining strength and patience…. What was the most challenging aspect of recording your latest album? This project moves with great ease, I’m in no rush. I’m making the music I want and collaborating with my dear friend and super producer Ned Douglas. Having a lot of fun. So far recording with artists I am a fan of like Olaf Blackwood, Chali 2Na, Bosaya and a few more surprises on the way. What has been your favourite moment or experience as a musician so far? So many. It's difficult to narrow it down, hahaha... I’d say performing, recording, and writing with Jimmy Cliff are up there. [embed]https://youtu.be/fUtSRAky0qA[/embed] How do you balance your personal life with your music career? I’m the same person, always. So I don’t really have any major balancing acts, lol. It's a smooth merge. How do you handle negative criticism or feedback on your music? I really think when you make authentic art, something that you need to express it’s counterproductive to sit in the moments of someone's disconnect with the art you’ve created.

Some will gravitate because it speaks to them and some won’t and that’s quite fine. What advice would you give to aspiring musicians trying to make it in the industry? I don't have a formula for "success," but I would say enjoy what you're doing; the process should be enjoyed. Do you have any upcoming projects or releases that you're excited about? Yes. A few things are in the pipeline that I’m working on… Do you have any plans to branch out into other genres or styles of music? I think over my career so far I’ve touched on quite a few genres, I love collaborations so I’m always open to making different types of music. [embed]https://open.spotify.com/album/1AaYOsIGquf5T1ZW0lxoPu?si=mrzN0m1FTC29ZbxcAhd4DA[/embed]

[davidwilliammusic]

Music, Spirituality and Bob Marley

I never realised it at the time but most of my 'spiritual search' happened through music. John Lennon and artists like that meant a lot to me but it wasn't until I discovered Bob Marley that something shifted more profoundly. I listened to him almost constantly for 2 years and watching him dance I somehow knew it was coming from a different place to any other popular artist I'd seen. It's hard enough to find songs out there which genuinely touch on this message but in terms of an actual figure who, not only through his music but his life, lived by example, I've still not come across anyone who matches Bob Marley.

I've found there are a lot of songs out there you could interpret to be about this because everything is being seen through that "oneness" lens now whereas the songwriter probably never intended that at all and was totally unconscious. Even some throwaway pop songs can have an inkling of it there.

Then there are those songs which are on to something, where the writer has some interest in spirituality and may say all the right things but that power is not fully there because the music has still not come through someone who is fully living it. Songs by artists like George Harrison, John Lennon, Manu Chao, Ian Brown, some of James and much of the reggae scene of the 70s.

The only artist I've found who I feel was living it and so that energy comes through in a purer form is Marley. Even Peter Tosh and Bunny Wailer and much of the rest of them, they seemed to have some understanding but my feeling was it was more of a rebellious thing for them, being part of the Rastafari movement. That is why I don't personally see movements as a good thing. As soon as you put a label on it, no matter how good the intentions, people will follow without fully realising what's behind it.

I think Bob was different. He grew up in that culture and in the same way that many of the Indian sages realised this 'Truth' through their religions and expressed it in that language, he found an expression for it through Rastafarianism. There seems no doubt he knew and understood it went further than any of that. There is one interview in particular I like where this Canadian woman is being a bit prickly with him and she asks him "Do the people love you?" and he pauses, while she tries again to make it an ego thing. In the end he turns it around and says "Yes, the people love I. The people don't need to see me because the people love I" with a big smile on his face. He knew what was behind terms like 'Jah', 'Rastafari' and 'I & I'.

As for his lifestyle, you can never really tell. He was in a unique position because I don't think we've ever seen a truly awakened music artist in our times, certainly not one at his level of fame. You can't really compare his actions against the traditional teachers we are used to. For whatever reason, life threw him up in that particular environment and then gave him fame and money. The only thing I've come across which you could hold against him was his relationships with many women while he was married. Maybe that was an ego thing but at the same time it's possible it wasn't. Marriage and being monogamous are products of thought and so from where he was operating from, maybe they weren't an issue.

I've always discerned this state in the same way, whether I'm listening/watching teachers like UG Krishnamurti and Eckhart Tolle or musicians like Bob. There is a certain 'goodness' energy that comes off such a figure, no matter what they are saying or how they are behaving.

I didn't grow up immersed in that culture or listening to that music, but when I was about 25 I got heavily into Bob's music. It struck a chord in me and it wasn't long before I had all his albums, DVDs, and became intrigued by his life and the Rasta philosophy in general. I remember watching him dance on a DVD and thinking "there is something different about this man and the way he is dancing... it's not like Mick Jagger or any other rock artist I've seen".

When whatever happened to me happened after coming across Eckhart a couple of years later, I immediately knew without knowing how, that Bob Marley was also pointing to the same thing. I feel the Rasta movement is like most religions - there is a core truth there (maybe even more evident there than the major religions) but as it has gone on and developed, it has become more political and ego-centric.

The ganja thing is misunderstood. If the right intent is there, that plant can definitely be a 'teacher'. Trouble is, most of the world use it unwisely and it becomes a foolish ego thing. Bob himself used to get annoyed when certain people were smoking around him and acting foolish. He encouraged people to use it because he knew it could open doors but admitted it wasn't necessary.

Although the black African thing was a big part of Bob's message, he was always more universal than most of the other Rastas. Sometimes an undercurrent of prejudice against whites could be there within the movement. The way I see it, when someone falls into the 'natural state', they become one with their environment. Their background is no accident, it has all the time been shaping them for that 'moment'. Their 'teaching' will then be a mixture of that background against whatever environment they currently find themselves in. Just as you could say UG's audience were primarily people very disillusioned with spirituality (as he himself had been), Bob's primary audience were black people from the ghettos. His message was there for all but it was shaped by that background and focussed on those who had been like he once was.

The Rasta talk of the Babylon System is not dissimilar from what UG was always banging on about - how our culture brainwash us. David Icke was also part of my background and he goes into a version of history that details this. He mentions the ancient region Babylon as being significant and how it developed into the Roman Empire and through to the Western Elite governments we have today. I'm not interested in the details of that because history itself is always false but it's something to note that the Rastas/Marley, UG and Icke all share a common ground there.

All UG's 49 years study of religion, spirituality, and western psychology were available to him as an expression, and Eckhart's academic background shapes his, but from what I see, Bob only had the Bible and the Rasta movement as sources to put this into language. If you can 'get past' the language of his songs and interviews, you will find the same thing is constantly being pointed to.

It's a threat to many people who have invested years in this 'enlightenment/self-realisation' thing to accept what Marley is really about because it means they have to take another look at themselves and admit they have been carrying certain prejudices all along without realising it.

There is so much hidden stuff that Marley is conveying, in his words, actions and songs that will just go by those with minds. Something has to be there in you to recognise it in him. Often he will rub his forehead while performing, which from my experience, seems to stimulate the third eye chakra. All of his songs are full of layers of meaning. The surface layer is often relating very much to this world, giving those who are in mind a way in, but beneath that there is a lot more going on.

In this song, "Cry To Me" - Cry To Me (1976) - Bob Marley & The Wailers

Cry to me, cry to me yeah!

You're gonna walk back through the heartaches

You're gonna walk back through the pain

You're gonna shed those lonely teardrops

The reaction of your cheating game

You've got to cry to me yeah!

You've got to cry cry cry to me now

Lord knows how I get from the heartaches

Lord that leadeth me yeah!

And now I'm by the still water

You've got to cry to me yeah!...

- the 'Me' refers to Source/God/Self and the song is basically about how once the mind is broken, you have to go through a period of shedding all the tears, anger and frustrations you yourself inflicted on the world while you were lost in thought to cleanse yourself. 'The reaction of your cheating game' - not being your true self. 'Now I'm by the still water' - stillness, consciousness.

"Real Situation" - Real Situation (1991) - Bob Marley & The Wailers

Check out the real situation

Nation war against nation

Where did it all begin, when will it end?

Well it seems like total destruction the only solution

There ain't no use, no one can stop them now

Give them an inch they take a yard

Give them a yard they take a mile

Once a man and twice a child

Everything is just for a while

It seems like total destruction the only solution

There ain't no use, no one can stop them now...

- this is a rare song in that Bob seems to be giving up while all his other songs were about keeping on the fight. In actual fact, it is a song of complete surrender, therefore still very positive. He is accepting that if we destroy ourselves so be it.

“Kaya” - Kaya

Kaya is Jamaican slang for ganja. At least that's what I always understood it to be. Bob named the album this song was on Kaya also and I always felt it was a devotional song. In the same way that songs have been written about Arunachala and Ramana's devotion to it, Bob and the true Rastas have devotion to the plant and see it as a sort of guru which can "reveal you to yourself" as he would put it.

Today though I happened to look up the roots of the word Kaya as I've been spontaneously saying it when I go into the state where I have to lie down and allow blockages to be cleared. This can often take the form of words and sounds coming out my mouth which sound like ancient languages mixed in with certain English words. I feel a clearing in the body as it happens. Anyway, whenever 'Kaya' popped out I assumed it was probably in relation to the plant and Bob but that never felt quite it. I've now found the word has origins in Turkey, Japan, Zulu and can mean 'restful place', 'home', and 'rock' amongst other things.

Maybe Bob was also paying respect to the 'restful place' in the song. Another layer of meaning, because it's interesting he chose the title Kaya as I've heard him use various terms for herb in conversation but never Kaya. It would satisfy the minds of rebellious youths to associate it with ganja but also underneath that he was praising home itself.

“Ride Natty Ride” - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fGc73MqWouU

You can take "dready", "natty dread" and "rastaman" in this song to all mean the same thing, which is - the one who is naturally themselves, who lives 'truth'. Those forcing on us the "devil's illusion" (which is thought) are all the institutions of thought - governments, church, science, media, education... Those individuals, or that which we constantly reject, is the "head cornerstone" on which we could build paradise on this Earth. The "something they could never take away" is that place where all this arises from and which once seen can never be tainted. The fire he sings of is the same fire I have spoken of before. Kundalini energy, life force energy, call it what you will... when it is touched by 'you' it destroys all that is false and purifies the body back to it's original state.What he is describing in the latter verses - "Now the fire is out of control..." - is the collective form of this, when enough individuals are transformed and society as we know it begins to break down. All this 2012, biblical revelations stuff, that some claim we are entering in this period - it doesn't mean a literal armageddon scenario but that this energy will come through unseen from within and affect the external world. We are possibly already seeing that - institutions collapsing, scandals everywhere, people's behaviour becoming more mad and erratic.

[docholligay]

What Raylan is saying here is that assumptions can be both valuable and wrong. It’s not so easy as “don’t assume,” it’s “assume, and be ready to be wrong.” And honestly, for people named Doc who are me? That is the correct answer! I do make assumptions about people, because people do by and large follow predictable patterns. But you have to be ready for people to go off-book, because even if assumptions are right 75% of the time, 25% isn’t exactly rare. 

And this answer is a much better and more useful answer than “Yeah I really liked Peter Tosh” because what Raylan is saying here isn’t, “we are the same” but “we’re different people with different priorities, but I can respect yours. Help me out with mine.” That is a much more honest and comforting take. It doesn’t come across as a lie, I highly suspect because it isn’t one. 

[natromanxoff]

25 - Just Chatting...

Hello one and all.

It's been a long time since I graced these pages and, believe it or not, nothing much has been happening in my life, apart from the odd soiree or two. Winter has finally left us and spring has sprung, and it's nice to see the sun again. Let's start by wishing my old mate a happy birthday and I hope you all had a little drinkie for him, I know I did. In fact I got legless, he would have been proud of me. Whenever we were in London there was always a party at Fred's on his birthday, be it a handful of friends, or one where he invited half of Britain, but which ever one it was there was always a good time to be had and a lot of chaos. One year he actually took over Pikes Hotel in Ibiza and chartered a private plane to fly his friends in. Roger and myself were already on the island recording some of his solo stuff so we didn't have far to travel to the bash. When I say we were working, it's kind of true as we spent a lot of time on his boat "Ga Ga" whizzing around having lunch and fun. The party was held outside around the swimming pool, now is that an invite for trouble or what? There were hundreds of balloons hanging from every available fixture, and of course there is always an idiot that thinks he's a clown. This particular clown, who will remain nameless, decided it would be funny to light one of the balloons, and needless to say the whole lot went up in flames. Phoebe and Crystal to the rescue. We had to get this "fire" off the wooden rafters before the whole hotel went up in smoke, so we were pulling bits of string while burning rubber was dripping down on us. I was so traumatised by the whole event I had to have another drink ....... a lame excuse I know, but hey, it's my story. Back to the pool. Edwin Shirley, of trucking fame and also an all round good guy after a few too many, decided to have a swim, so he removed his clothing and was flapping around the pool when some daft countess told him to get dressed and behave himself. Wrong move lady. Edwin was not impressed by his telling off and threw her in, and she was even less impressed with that and started ranting and raving, much to the amusement to the rest of the party hounds. She left with her tail between her legs and didn't look at all glamorous in her soaking wet dress, running makeup and failed hairdo. We continued till mid morning and went straight to the airport and caught a flight home. Thanks F for the great parties and good times, you will never be forgotten.

I still get asked a lot if I'm gonna write the "Real" story about Queen. Well the answer is no, and the reason is that the guys gave me a great job and a great life and I have far to much respect for them, their wives/girlfriends, children and families to tell the world what we got up to in private. I feel that is our business and ours alone. Most of us are all in relationships and telling tales could make life awkward for a few people, band and crew alike. I'm sure at some point in time someone from the organisation will write a book, have 5 minutes of fame and make a quick buck, but it sure as hell won't be me, and I'll still be able to sleep at night and when I see the guys I will still be free to say, "Wanna beer MATE."

I've had a few questions asked me that I'm gonna answer quickly.

First off is "Do you have any stories about Freddies cats? (ripping furniture etc.)" Here's a good reply, No. So moving right along, "Of all the famous people you've met, who impressed you the most?" Tricky one this. After years in this "Biz" they all become "Just normal people," and some become good pals, but on one occasion I was in Paul McCartneys studio and I was handed his violin bass and I was sitting there holding it when someone said, "Paul is left handed, hold it like he would." When I turned it around, still taped in the cutout was the Beatles set list from their days in Hamburg, now that impressed me.

Deaky and myself were the only two reggae lovers in the outfit, and Bob Marley turned up to see the show at Madison Square Gardens. Strange choice of show for Bob, but he loved Another one bites the dust, and he happened to be in New York on a stopover on his way to Germany for laser treatment. Show time and our intro tape was playing, and someone told JD that Bob was in the audience, so he cranked his bass up and played "Lively up yourself" over the tape. This was very possibly the last time Marley ever heard this played as he died shortly after. I didn't get to meet him, but I did get to meet Tyrone Downie, Bobs keyboard player in the Wailers, and Tyrone and myself got up to all sorts of mischief that night. RT on the other hand hates reggae music, but I did manage to drag him to the Circus Krone in Munich to see Peter Tosh. I loved it, he hated it. I look at this as payback because years before he insisted that I went to Hammersmith Odeon to see Laurie Anderson, of O Superman fame. This show he loved, but I put it alongside Cher as one of the worst concerts I have ever seen. Needless to say I have also met a couple of stars that I didn't see eye to eye with. Like the American rock star we encountered in a club one night, and he was such a pain I had to take him into the toilets to have a quiet word with him. He finally got the message so I released my hand from around his neck and let him drop back down to the ground. To finish this segment I wanna tell you something that Bev Bevan said. Bev was the drummer with ELO, and them and us were touring the US at the same time, and as it turned out, staying in the same hotel in one city. Roger and myself were leaving the hotel and waiting for the elevator. When the doors opened Bev was in there and him and RT said their hellos. Rog then said, "Bev, this is Crystal, he looks after me." Bev turned to me, shook my hand and said, "Pleased to meet you. If it wasn't for guys like you, guys like us wouldn't be where we are today." He didn't need to say that, and was genuine when he did. I wasn't impressed with meeting him, but he is certainly in my top ten of nicest people I have ever meet.

Over the last few months I've spent a lot of time in the Chatroom, and I highly recommend it to you all as it can be a bit of a laugh. For anyone who has never visited the room please remember a couple of things, if you come in and start swearing you will be kicked out. I know, it happens to me all the time. Also don't come in and start going on about knowing axemen and murderers and other such garbage, cause that also warrants a kicking. Some buffoon from Ireland, who went by the name of "Death" turned up with an attitude and was going on about how f***ing awesome Queen were at Slane Castle. He was not known by anyone in there so I asked him to watch his language. He said he was the Grim Reaper and could do and say what he liked, so I told him otherwise and he was most put out when I kicked him. What a fool. A while ago there was some prat who called himself F***queen, good name eh! Anyway, he/she/it was picking on a lovely young lady called Raisa, and was saying some awful things to her and completely freaked her out, so I went to her defence and FQ turned the attention my way. As far as I'm concerned it's only letters on a screen and it didn't phase me at all, but at least he/she/it gave up on Raisa. In all fairness to FQ, whoever you may be, he/she left a message on the Bulletin Board saying sorry to Raisa and myself and would never do it again. So FQ, from the both of us, thanks for the apology, we accept it. What other weirdos have we had? Well, there was a brightspark who decided it would be funny to use the nickname QueenRshite, another bad move from this person who was honoured with a ban.

While in there I've seen a lot of friendships made, and a couple that have fallen apart. I got a private message one evening from a very drunk girl who, how shall we phrase this, offered me her body and wanted to do all sorts of naughty things to me, I thanked her and declined...must be getting old or something. I have also witnessed relationships being made and, usually there is a lot of humour involved, but needless to say some arguments do occur. I have also seen some of the daftest things said. One guy was so convinced that one of the regulars was either Deaky or she was chatting with him in private that he actually started tracking her every move on the net. He also told me about some highly illegal activities he was up to concerning the band. I wouldn't have thought I was the best person to tell such stuff to, and needless to say I had a go at him. Just to add to his stupidity he's been recently boasting about his affair with an underage girl, and I reckon if he had any more sense he would be half witted. Having mentioned all the twits I'd like to say a quick hello to all the regulars, White Queen and Killer Queen, the lovely girls Blue Rock and Rannnnnnni, SQJan, Mayflower and her boys, Farookh (aka Leroy Brown) MarshMallow, the three Tigers - Babe, Lily and Stripes and the mighty Falc, also to all the rest who I haven't mentioned by name, you know who you are. I'd also like to say hi to Daddy Cool who is the singer in the Dutch cover band Miracle, and Dad, if you never make it as a singer you could make a great career from being a stand up comedian. Finally an extra special hello to the gorgeous MTB, who is about to make an honest man of me ;)

Before I go I'm sure I don't need to remind anyone of a certain date in November that is engraved in all of our minds. And I know that a lot of you will be heading to Garden Lodge to leave flowers. I don't wanna preach and tell you what to do, and I know flowers are a nice gesture, but they do die and the only people to really benefit from this is the florist. This year lets all give a donation, no matter how small, to Aids research, this way the cash will be used to try and stamp out this awful disease. If you really wanna leave flowers, buy a smaller, cheaper bunch and donate the balance of what you would have spent to these charities. It's been said a million times before but it is true, Every penny counts.

As always, Loadsa Love.

Crystal

[jeyramarie]

The forbidden zone- Pogue x OC

summary: It’s time to look for the wreck and the weather won’t stop them.

wc: 4,752

a/n: here it is! as requested 😁 @halsmultibitch and i have so so many ideas. we can’t wait for all of you to read it!! happy reading 🦋

prologue~ pilot~ the lucky compass

Previously on Good Life...

Lani had volunteered to climb into it since she was the smallest. Once inside she asked for a flashlight due to it being so dark. She looked around for a bit until she found an envelope leaned against the wall. 

“Oh my god.” she whispered as she stared at it. ‘To Bird.’ it read. 

John B stared at the envelope in adoration, perfectly knowing it was from his dad. JJ helped Lani out of the tomb as a cold breeze ran through the trees making her shiver. 

“Holy shit. This is from my dad.” He said and looked around as his friends while JJ lit his blunt, puffing some smoke. Suddenly, car headlights came into view coming their way. 

“Code red. Code red. Square groupers!” JJ said desperately as he walked backwards to his friends. 

“Oh my god, go.” Lani said, pulling Kie’s arm to hide next to the tomb. They all got down and fidgeted with their flashlights to turn them off. 

“Light!” 

“Turn it off, John B!” the curly haired kook exclaimed as she saw the pogue jam the flashlight up his shirt. JJ turned off his cigarette against the wall as they all stayed there quietly. The car came to a stop as a man climbed out.

“I think I see something!” He shouted to the other person in the car as JJ and Pope peeked their heads out, trying to see. 

“Is it them?” Lani whispered to the boys feeling fear in the pit of her stomach. 

“Homie’s got a gun.” JJ whispered as he turned back to lean against the wall. 

“Oh fuck this.” Fallon muttered as she stood up before running off. John B immediately followed, then Kie, Lani, JJ and finally, Pope. Everyone made it over the fence successfully until Pope’s pants got stuck. Of course he’s the one that gets stuck, classic Pope. 

“Guys, guys. I’m stuck!” He said as he desperately tried to free himself from the fence. 

“I got you, buddy.” Lani said as she came for his rescue alongside John B. They used all they’re strength to get him out causing the pants to start ripping. 

“Guys, you’re gonna rip me.” 

“Pope, don’t move okay?” JJ said as he held up his gun towards the pogue. 

“JJ, what the fuck? Put that down, man.” John B pushed his arm down making the blonde put the gun back in his cargo shorts. 

“No, no. You’re gonna rip me. No! You’re ripping me!” and with that Pope fell from the fence leaving his shorts hanging. 

“Oh my god.” Lani laughed as she walked backwards to get to the car. 

“Hey, it's a little Tootsie roll!” JJ shouted, making everyone laugh as they all ran to the car. Fallon opened the door waiting for them to get closer.

“Get in.” Kie laughed as she saw Pope climbing in in his underwear. 

“What the hell happened?” Fallon slid the door close and turned to Pope who was frowning in annoyance. 

“You don’t wanna know.” he groaned as he sat at the chair at the back of the van. They went back to the Chateau, quickly clearing a space to look at what the envelope had. JJ ran to the kitchen looking for food since he hasn’t eaten all day. He found some bread, some peanut and jelly making his eyes sparkle as his stomach growled. 

“That bread has had mold for like a week.” Lani said as she opened her water bottle to take a sip. 

“I’ll just pull off the bad parts. Plus, mold is good for you. It’s just a natural organism.” he said, picking up the sandwich and moving to take a bite off of it, receiving a disgusted look from the kook. 

“Guys!” Kie called as John B pulled out a map from the envelope. 

“We’re going.” Lani said walking out of the kitchen with JJ trailing behind her as he took a bite off the sandwich. 

“Mmm.” JJ muttered and then gagged as he spit out the piece of moldy bread. 

“Told you not to eat it.” The kook with her arms crossed made the pogue pull out the middle finger. The pogue opened the map to see coordinates, scribbled lines and an x. 

“Well, x marks the spot.” Fallon said, pointing her finger on the map. 

“Longitud, latitud… wait, there's something else in there.” John B said as he traced his finger along the lines before dropping it and picking up the envelope again. He reached in and pulled out a tape recorder. 

“What’s that?” JJ asked in confusion. 

“It’s a tape recorder, J.” Lani said, looking at him and chuckling a bit. The pogue held the recorder for a bit more and started playing it to reveal his dad’s voice. Big John talked about the Royal Merchant, how he found it. He actually found it, which was a huge surprise to everyone, including John B. Once the recorder stopped, the room was filled with silence until JJ broke it. 

“Holy shit, he found it! Big John…. He found the Merchant.” He lifted his arms in excitement as Lani stood up straight and forcefully lowered his arms.

“Can you not right now, JJ?” Fallon said, running her hand through her hair. John B stood up and leaned against the door as he began to cry. Kie went to his side and hugged him, giving him comfort as his tears continued to roll down his cheeks. 

A few hours later, everyone was found on the docks. Kie was playing her ukulele, Lani was sketching Pope and everyone else drinking beer in silence. 

“How much was it again?” JJ asked and sipped from his beer can before tossing it aside. 

“Four hundred mil.” Lani said never parting her eyes from the sketchbook as she erased the eyebrow to fix it’s arch. 

“All right, let’s talk split. Now, before we say “evenly” may I remind you that I am the only one that can probably defend us from those square groupers that were after us. Protection? Not cheap, okay?” He said, holding his gun up for everyone to see trying to make a point. 

“You haven’t trained. You’ve done zero training.” Fallon crossed her arms leaning against the railing. 

“Youtube, Fal.” he winked at the caramel haired pogue making her stick out her tongue making him chuckle. 

“You haven’t-” Pope started objecting when JJ cut him off.

“Any objections? Didn’t think so.” Lani and Kie were holding up their hands in objection but were ignored by the pogue.

“There’s a couple objections.” 

“I don’t hear any so…”

“Okay well, what are you gonna do with 66 mil Pope?” Fallon said, cutting him off and she sat down on the floor. 

“Pay for college in advance. And also, textbooks. Those are expensive.” 

“What about you, Kie?” 

“Yeah, what does a socalist do when she’s rich?” Lani asked, smirking at the pogue who chuckled at her question. 

“Just wanna make a double album. About the OBX, the pogues. You know, the way Catch a Fire is about Kingston. Record it in Marley studio, Peter Tosh producing. And before you say anything Pope, yes I know Peter Tosh is dead.” The pogue lifted his hands in surrender as he laughed at her last comment. 

“Lani? What about you?” John B asked, leaning back on his beach chair as he opened a new beer can. 

“I’m not sure what she would want. She’s already rich.” Fallon muttered under her breath making the kook frown as her face fell making her look at her sketchbook.

“Well, you’re rich too but you don’t see me making comments about it.” Everyone opened their eyes and muttered ‘ooo’s’ as Lani looked at John B to answer his question. 

“I wanna go to Italy, get a house by the beach. Not even a house, I want a cute little hud with a window facing the ocean. So, I can paint and eat all the pasta I can get.” she said and raised her beer can in the form of the toast before sipping from the cold beverage. 

“Fal, your turn.” JJ smiled, turning his head towards her as he fidgeted with his lighter. 

“I’m gonna leave Outer Banks. I’ve only felt trapped here. So, I wanna go and I don’t know… escape life, I guess.” John B nodded and lifted his beer can in agreement while the blonde pogue nodded too. 

“I know what I’ll do. I’m gonna get a big ass house on Figure Eight and go full Kook.” 

“Full kook?” “You are not going full kook.” Lani and Fallon said at the same time, making him laugh.

“Yes, full kook. I’m gonna get a big statue of myself and a koi pond with a bunch of fish.” He said making circular movements with his hands as he described the pond. 

“You know I’m never visiting right?” Kie said, placing her ukulele back on her lap. 

“What are you gonna do, John B?” Lani asked, leaning towards Pope, handing him the portrait she made. 

“To going full Kook.” he smiled as he stood up and held his beer can up causing everyone else to hold up their beverages too. 

“To going full Kook.” They hollered and laughed as the night went by smoothly. Lani was starting to feel like part of the group now which made her very happy since she was never the girl to have a bunch of friends. All of her ‘friends’ were the children of her parents' business partners, whom she never really liked. 

The next day came around, sunny as ever giving the pogues the perfect idea to go on a boat ride on the marsh. They got ready in record time with their swimsuits and the cooler filled with drinks and the ice Pope brought from his dad’s store. They picked up Kie at her house’s dock first and then Lani, who wasn’t far. As they sailed through the marsh, getting to their favorite spot, JJ spotted two kooks on their own new boat. 

“Holy shit. You guys see that? That’s the Malibu 24-MXZ, the world’s finest wakesetter. Number one in luxury, quality and performance. That’s 200k easy.” He said squinting his eyes behind his sunglasses moving his head to his friends and back at the kooks. 

“No, here comes Malibu Barbie and Ken.” Fallon tilted her head as she laughed at her joke. 

“You don’t have to act like you don’t see us, bitch.” Kie said as she looked at Sarah while the boats crossed paths. The blonde kook waved and smiled at Lani causing her to do the same thing.

“Of course, you wave at her.” the caramel haired pogue scoffed in annoyance.

“Says the one who’s friends with Rafe.” Pope muttered under his breath loud enough for the pogue to hear and blush.  

“She’s been nothing but nice to me. I have no hate against her.” The kook shook her head as she continued sketching. Most of the day was spent swimming, drinking and planning on how to get a computer with the Internet in order to find the coordinates from Big John’s map. After the marsh, they all went back to the Chateau to get dressed so they could begin their trip to the hotel JJ worked at. Everyone got into the van making their way to their destination as they jammed to Kie’s favorite reggae music and JJ’s classic rock playlist. 

“All right, we should keep a lookout. We’re behind enemy lines.” JJ said as he pulled his gun out from the glove department while they parked outside. 

“Come on, man. Just put it back.”John B said, turning off the car as he ran a hand through his hair. 

“What?”

“JJ-”

“You can never be too careful.” he muttered as the door slid open for Pope to climb out. 

“Bringing a gun to a four star hotel will cause more problems than actually solve.” The curly haired pogue said as he leaned against the door next to JJ. He muttered a ‘thanks’ before Lani popped her head in between John B and the blonde.

“JJ, put that shit away or I'll throw it in the ocean.” She said and quickly got out of the van as John B ripped the gun off of JJ’s hand, putting it back where it was. 

“Okay, let’s go.” Fallon shouted as she closed the van door ready to walk in.

“Wait! Can’t forget my badge.” the blonde pogue smiled and pulled out his employee ID.

“Professional busboy.” Kie rolled her eyes and continued to walk behind Lani who was already halfway to the entrance. They walked in through the back into the kitchen where a few of JJ’s co-workers said hi and asked him how he was doing, some eyeing Fallon which was an everyday occurrence for her. After going up a few stairs, they finally made it to the lobby and walked towards a semi secluded room with computers. 

“Sweet lord, the Internet.” Pope said, running towards the device almost like he was gonna hug and kiss it. 

“Let me get in there. Check on my insta models.” JJ said as he leaned down next to Pope making Lani chuckle as she sat down.

“What insta models?” Fallon questioned as her arms crossed over her chest.

“No one, no one.” he muttered, never parting his eyes from the screen. They started looking for the coordinates written on the map and found how deep that part of the ocean was. To get there, they needed some type of submarine to be able to find the Royal Merchant. JJ gave the idea of getting the drone at the salvage yard where his dad used to work. On the way to the salvage yard, Pope couldn’t help but comment on how real or fake this wild goose chase was. 

“So, what’s it gonna be? Fantasy or reality?” 

“Fantasy.” Fallon muttered as she rolled JJ’s blunt. 

“Fantasy but possible reality.” Kie stared at John B through the rear view mirror with sad eyes, feeling pity for her best friend. 

“Both.” Lani said rummaging through her bag as she placed her sketchbook and pencils back. 

“Virtual reality.” JJ groaned as he leaned forward to grab the blunt. 

“Reality.” the shaggy haired pogue said, turning his head to look at the kook sitting in the passenger seat. Lani stared at him and gave him a sad smile as the van came to a stop not too far from the salvage yard. They ran over the plan one more time, making sure everyone understood. Especially JJ, he had a tendency of improvising everything. Lani got out of the van first, throwing her bag over her shoulder as she crossed the street to Kie’s car. Fallon slid the van door open and stepped out but was held back by a muscular hand. 

“Can’t Kie go?” JJ asked worriedly not liking the idea of his lifelong crush distracting a man with her looks. 

“No, she can’t and it’s not like you care anyway.” she spat out as she pulled her hand away from the pogue, slamming the door shut. The kook was putting her things in the car, making sure everything was rightfully placed when she turned to ask the pogue a question.

“Hey, Kie did you see th- You’re not Kie.” Lani said as she noticed her partner for that crima wasn’t who she thought. 

“I’m not thrilled about this either but they made me, so let’s just get it over with.” the pogue said bitterly as she got in the passenger seat leaving the kook alone and confused. The short ride to the salvage yard was filled with tension and awkward silence. Neither of them know what to say. 

“Should I go call him or do you-”

“I’ll go.” Fallon spat dryly, cutting Lani off as she quickly got out of the car. The kook sat there staring at the pogue as she walked towards the gate giving her some time to sigh and think to herself ‘this is harder than i thought’. After a few seconds, the gates opened cueing her to get out of the car and stand by the flat tire. The rest of the pogues were hiding by the gates as they saw the scene unfold. 

“It’s not weird, awkward or anything.” John B whispered, never parting his eyes from the girls as he answered Pope’s question. 

“I told you she wasn’t into you.” Kie said suddenly which confused JJ more. 

“Who isn’t into you?”

“He kissed Fallon.” Pope whispered immediately, opening his eyes wide realizing what he had done. JJ’s nostrils flared as anger burst through his body. 

“Well, she can kiss whoever she wants. She’s not dating anyone.” he said with gritted teeth as he gripped the wood harder. 

“Yeah, it’s just us.” Lani smiled, answering the guard’s question while leaning against the boat. He stared at them for a long time, moving his eyes from their legs up to their faces and back to the tire. Suddenly, barks came from the yard making the guard stand up and turn to the gate. 

“Tebow’s got something.” 

“Oh no, I don't think so.” Fallon said, placing a piece of hair behind her ear. 

“Yeah, maybe it’s a racoon.” Lani nodded and smiled, giving the man enough reassurance to go back to the tire. They noticed that he was finishing way too fast which meant that the boys could get caught but luckily, Fallon had an idea. 

“Oh, I forgot to call my mom. I’ll be right back.” she said before disappearing around the boat making it look like she was grabbing her phone. When in reality, she was using a hairpin to deflate the other tire. Fallon stayed like that for a bit not realizing how long she took until she heard Lani’s protest to the guard. 

“No, she’s talking with her mom. Something private. Sh-she’s probably crying!” The kook shouted as the guard pushed her aside as saw Fallon defaulting the tire on purpose , giving him the realization of what was going on. He began walking backwards as the girls looked at him holding their hands up trying to keep him from running. But of course, that failed miserably as the man bolted towards the gate making the girls run to the inside of the car. 

“Shit! Shit! He’s gonna call the cops. We need to tell them.” Fallon closed the door and put her seat belt on as Lani turned on the car. 

“Just call Kie, we have to go.” and with that, she drove out of there leaving the pogues behind. After a while, they all met back at the Wreck feeling all of their stomachs growl. Kie immediately hugged her dad when he saw him as the pogues walked towards the tables. 

“Hey, Mike.” Lani waved sweetly as she walked towards the counter.

“Hey, how’s John doing?”

“Oh, he’s good. Just working with mom a lot.”

“That’s really nice. Can I get you anything?”

“Can I have the turkey sandwich? With fries?” she smiled, reaching into her purse to pull out her wallet. Mike nodded and walked away into the kitchen. Fallon stared at the whole interaction, feeling pissed on how Lani had “stolen” everything from her. The kook paid and left a $5 tip before walking towards the pogues, who were starting to sit down. 

The restaurant closed, only leaving them in there to eat. Kie turned up the radio as one of her favorite songs came on. She pointed at John B which resulted in them dancing. JJ stood up to throw something away when he saw Lani’s drawing, again. Giving him the perfect idea, to dance with her. 

JJ tapped her shoulder making her turn around as he extended his hand for her to grab. Lani timidly looked around and placed her hand on his, making him grab it immediately as he pulled her out of the chair. JJ started dancing with her as well as making funny faces to make her laugh. Fallon wasn’t laughing, at all. If looks could kill, there would be two dead bodies already. 

JJ swung her around and dipped as she laughed hysterically at the gesture since she has never really danced with anyone. As this all happened, Pope and Fallon sat drinking beers alone. He turned to her and raised his bottle to toast, making her chuckle. The bottles clinked together and they drank from it as the song ended. 

“Well, let’s get going guys.” John B announced as it was getting late. They threw away the wrappers and paper cups before stepping outside. Lani left with Kie since they lived close by to each other, which left Fallon with the boys.

“I think I’m gonna walk home.” she said as they got into the van.’

“You’re not gonna walk.” JJ refused, stepping out of the Twinkie.

“I am gonna walk. I need to think and some time alone.” and with that she walked away ignoring the pogue’s calls. 

“Just give her some space, man.” Pope said as he got in the Twinkie making JJ get back in and slam the door shut. Fallon walked hugging her figure as the cold night breeze went through the trees. She was reflecting on the day, about how Lani was actually nice to her but then her thoughts drifted to seeing her dance with JJ. Suddenly, car headlights shone behind her as the vehicle stopped next to her. The window rolled down to reveal Rafe.

“Hey Fal, what are you doing walking alone?” 

“Hi, I just… um.. Just needed to clear my head.” 

“Well, get in. Let me drive you home.” He said and leaned over to open the door for her. Fallon was hesitant at first but somehow felt comfort once she went inside the car. Rafe began to drive and kept looking at her and back at the road. 

“You look good.” he said, making her smile and slightly blush. 

“Stop doing that, Rafey.” 

“Doing what?” 

“Complimenting me to distract me.” 

“I just wanna make you feel better, that’s all.” he stared at the road as Fallon looked at him. She grabbed his hand making him look at her.

“Thank you for that, really.” 

“No problem.” The ride to Figure 8 was short and filled with comfortable silence. Once they pulled into the driveway, Rafe lowered the volume of the radio and turned to Fallon who was getting her bag ready. 

“Thank you for driving me.” she smiled as he nodded and gave her a small smirk. Suddenly, she leaned in and kissed his cheek, making him blush. 

“Goodnight, Rafe.” and with that she got out of the car, waving at him once she opened her front door. The kook stayed there for a bit, still feeling euphoric by the kiss. He smiled widely as he changed his car to R, making his way home. 

The next day, Pope wanted to try out the drone, making everyone go to the Chateau. It was like seeing a child open his christmas gift and seeing that it was what they asked for. Excited was an understatement. Kie, Fallon and John B swam around for a bit while JJ, Lani and Pope stayed on the dock to test it out. They wanted to make sure the camera was looking HD, that it’s motor was functioning and that nothing was broken. 

“What’s this?” JJ asked as he touched a button from the panel that controls the drone. 

“Don’t touch that. I’m trying to work out this thing.” Pope said, slapping the blonde pogue’s away. 

“God bless geeks, Pope. Truly, man. What would we do without you to control the drones?” he asked as he leaned against the railing while Lani chuckled in the background, still standing next to Pope. 

“It’s not a drone. It’s an ROV.”

“Shut up, shut up. It’s too early for that right now.” 

“It’s 12 in the afternoon, JJ.” Lani smiled as she lifted her head and looked at the blonde who shrugged and turned back to the marsh. The conversation turned to mention lawyers once the wreckage was found. Loud thunders would be heard as the pogues climbed out of the marsh. 

“In the wrong weather, it’s gonna get pushed around.” Lani stated as she squinted her eyes looking at the sky. A big gray cloud was going over the OBX making the kook feel a bit anxious. 

“Then we’ll go at dead calm.” John B suggested wrapping himself in a towel. Right after that, thunder interrupted his thoughts as it filled everyone’s ears. 

“Well, today’s not the day.” JJ said, looking at the sky. 

The next day had perfect weather which was also perfect to look for the Royal Merchant. Pope asked his dad for his boat and surprisingly, Heyward said yes. Which gave him the responsibility to pick everyone up. JJ took over the wheel and Lani stayed with him in the cabin while everyone else got the equipment ready. 

“All right, JJ! Pin it here!” John B shouted as the blonde nodded. 

“Roger that! X marks the spot.” he said and stared at Lani who was already staring at him with slightly scared eyes. 

“All right, ladies and gentleman. To going full kook.” The shaggy haired pogue smiled as Kie started lowering the drone into the water, immediately giving Pope a clear image of the ocean. It kept going down as John B checked the location of the boat hence the constant screaming.

“JJ, you're right over it. Ten seconds northwest!” 

“Got it!” the blonde shouted back as he steered the wheel in a quick speed making Lani be on the verge of falling over him once the boat turned. He chuckled at the kook causing her to roll her eyes.

“Careful there.”

“Yeah, yeah.” 

“One hundred feet!” Fallon shouted as she helped Kie lower the rope. Pope gasped in fear as he saw many animals which caused John B to be on edge. Inside the cabin, Lani and JJ were in comfortable silence as she stared at him. 

“Are you okay?” she asked, breaking the silence.

“Yeah.” 

“Sorry, I asked, I just… you’re wearing a sweatshirt.. It's the middle of June.” Lani looked at JJ with worried eyes as he hesitated for an answer. Not wanting to tell her about his dad. 

“Four hundred feet!” Kie shouted, interrupting JJ’s thoughts as he turned to look back at the front of the boat. Thunder was heard all around as they all stared at the sky. 

“Guys, the tide’s turning.” Fallon said to John B making him look down at the boat monitor. 

“JJ, ten seconds easy, south-southeast.”

“Copy that.” the blonde replied as he turned the wheel again making Lani trip and crash into him. JJ extended his arm and stood her up, pulling her to between him and the wall.

“Stay there, k?” she nodded and chuckled a bit, making him smile. 

“JJ, 20 second mid speed, south.”

“Copy that! Aye, aye, cap.” The pogue kept steering and steering the wheel, not receiving any feedback from John B. 

“John B! Is That good?” Lani shouted from the cabin as JJ focused on the wheel.

“Yeah, we’re good!” He shouted only his thumb up. The shouts kept coming back and forth as a trom approached the boat. Thunder got louder and winds got stronger making it harder for the female pogues to handle the rope as JJ tried to keep the boat at the right position. 

“There’s too much current!” Kie shouted holding onto the rope, afraid that it would leave her grip. 

“We’re gonna lose it!” Fallon shouted as she lowered the drone a bit more. 

“No, we're not! Steady at this bearing, JJ!” John B shouted as the blonde followed instructions. The shouting went on as the girls yelled how far the drone was. 

“You should be seeing something, man.” he told Pope as he looked closely at the screen. 

“I know, I know! Wait.. oh God.” A silence filled the boat as the boys stared at the screen closely.

“What the hell is going on?” Lani asked under her breath looking at the boys. JJ turned his head and got confused as he quickly turned back to look at the storm. 

“Do you see anything?” he asked, suddenly hearing the boys laugh in cheer. 

“It’s the Royal Merchant!” John B shouted in victory as he saw the wreckage on the screen feeling as if his father was standing right there with him. 

good life: @ilovefandoms102 @agardenofbooks @cloverrover

[lebaronlordking]

Saturday Afternoon Reggae Show DJ LeBaron Lord King May 18th, 2024 lebaron@kpoo.com

SaturdayAfternoonReggaeShow

4:00 PM Wayne Wade - Don't Worry 4:03 PM Barry Brown - It a Go Dread 4:08 PM Prince Far I - Throw Away Your Gun 4:12 PM Sean Paul - No Fear 4:15 PM Yaksta - Rich a Morning 4:18 PM Inna De Yard - Row Fisherman 4:22 PM Sistah Jahia - Chant a Pray 4:27 PM Bob Marley & The Wailers - One Love / People Get Ready 4:35 PM Don Iko - Loud 4:39 PM Damian Marley - My Sweet Lord 4:43 PM Peter Tosh - Legalize It 4:47 PM Prince Far I - Throw Away Your Gun 4:51 PM Steel Pulse - Prodigal Son 4:57 PM Alborosie - Give It To Them 5:00 PM Koffee - West Indies 5:05 PM Yaadcore - Ready Now 5:09 PM Stick Figure - Old Sunrise 5:14 PM Black Uhuru - Reggae Rock 5:19 PM Luciano - Stay Away 5:23 PM Jaz Elise - Good Over Evil 5:29 PM Burna Boy - Last Last 5:32 PM Skip Marley - Calm Down 5:34 PM Love Joys - Stranger 5:42 PM Protoje - Not Another Word 5:45 PM Suga Roy & The Fireball Crew - Say A Prayer For Me 5:49 PM The Wailers - Jah Is Mighty 5:51 PM Iotosh - Fill My Cup 5:55 PM YG Marley - Survival 6:00 PM Dezarie - Ghettos of Babylon 6:04 PM King Kong - Wake Up The Town 6:07 PM Gregory Issacs - If I Don't Have You 6:11 PM Jah Cure - Marijuana 6:16 PM Samory I - There Is A Spirit 6:22 PM The Aggrovators - Dub Fi Gwaan 6:26 PM Prince Jammy - Lion Heart 6:29 PM Fyakin - Green 6:33 PM Saah Karim - Ultimate Truth 6:38 PM Toots & Maytals - Bla Bal Bla 6:40 PM Buju Banton - What's Wrong 6:43 PM Truesounds - Tired 6:47 PM Cedric Myton - Not Counterfeit 6:50 PM Kushite - Freedom Cry 6:55 PM Jaz Elise - Gratitude

[thebrownssociety]

Across The Serververse, Chapter 9

About an hour after the last chapter Bugs stood with his arms folded looking critically at the...thing that Marvin and Wile.E were telling him was a car. It looked, to Bugs’s critical eye, very much like a jagged rock. This would be because it was a jagged rock, a deep jagged rock, hollowed out to create a drivers seat, a steering wheel somehow forced into it and four wheels haphazardly slung onto it. In a bid to make it personal to him Pepe and Penelope had painted it orange and were proposing he call it ‘The Carrot.’ Not th most original of names, but there you go.

“So...lemme jus’ get this straight.” Bugs said, slowly. “Ya want me ta actually drive this thing?”

“Of course.” Marvin said, sharply.

“It’s perfectly safe.” Wile.E added. “Trust us. We’re geniuses.” 

Despite having the perfect set-up Bugs - with great effort - made no jokes or witty comebacks and instead positioned himself in the drivers seat, popped a helmet on [safety first and all that] put his seatbelt on and then raced off to join the others.

‘Sweet moither of carrots, this is fast!’ Bugs thought to himself as he zipped round corners and up and down the sides of hills. No wonder the Wacky Racers all seemed to look permanently startled!

After a good half an hour Bugs saw his first car and - tightening his grip on the wheel - pushed down the accelerator. The car lunged forward with such speed Bugs was left in the air for about two seconds before being pulled back into his drivers seat by the seatbelt. 

He landed upside down and hastened to right himself. When he did manage this the first thing he saw was a cliff coming towards him so he grabbed the wheel and turned away from the cliff somehow managing to end up back on the path. Heart nearly beating out his chest he panted and briefly thought of his house and nice comfy bed before giving himself a slap and readjusting his hands more tightly on the wheel. He WOULD get Sam back even if it killed 'im.

Bugs pressed down the accelerator and zoomed off, this time managing to stay on the track. He was on there a while actually, about 45 minutes before he saw the first car. Annoyingly it wasn't Sam's and Bugs wasn't familiar enough with the world of wacky racers to identify it. It wasn't Penelope Pitstop or Peter Perfect he knew that.

As he tried to overtake, one of the toons (a caveman) leaned over and whacked him on the back of the head with a club. "Hey!" Bugs cried as the caveman tried to batter him senseless. "Cut it out! Yer damagin' me ears!"

The cave man ignored him and Bugs - in a fit of anger - turned the wheel sharply causing the car to whack into the side of the cavemen's (there were two of them) car which, in turn, sent them flying down the side of the cliff.

There seems no need to go over every racer, but suffice to say that Bugs through a mix of intelligence; trickery and, in one if two cases, blunt force, managed to eventually reach Sam. Not that he was exactly hard to miss. The gold that his car was painted saw to that.

"Sam!" Bugs bellowed, trying to be heard over the sound of the engine. "SAM"

The pirate twitched and tightened his hands on the steering wheel, a grim line of determination on his face. In hindsight Bugs should have recognised that look for what it was. Sam was In The Zone. Any attempts to distract him would surely end in tears. However, in that moment, seeing as he was literally *that* far away from him Bugs grabbed a megaphone out of hammerspace and screamed into it. "YOSEMITE SAM!"

Sam - not expecting that - wobbled dangerously and his hands jerked of the wheel sending the car spinning of the road.

Bugs winced and braked making the car shriek as he did so. When the dust had cleared he looked left and right then hopped out the car and ran across to the wreck. "Sam!" He called, worriedly. "Sammy, are you alright?"

There was a long pause, during which Bugs started composing songs for Sam's funeral, then a pale hand grasped the wreckage of the car and - with a dramatic gasp - Yosemite Sam pulled himself out of the wreckage and mustered enough strength to look straight at Bugs and growl. "I hates you."

Bugs took the statement with good grace and, holding out a hand, pulled Sam from the wreckage. "An' dere I was t'inkin' you'd be glad ta see me." He said, teasingly.

Sam glared and, adopting the voice of a posh upper-class englishman [think Mac and Tosh] said. "It may have escaped your here notice, Mr Bunny, but you have just WRECKED MY CAR!"

Bugs blinked and shrugged, giving the easy smile that always worked with Daffy. "Eh...Oi crushed Wile.E under a boulder. He was happy ta see me."

Sam glared and pointed at the smouldering wreck that had once been a car.

Bugs followed his point and, feeling a stab of guilt, mumbled. "Yeah...so dat's not great..."

"IT'S WRECKED!" Sam screeched. "An YOU ah wrecked it!"

"Well..." Bugs murmured as the feeling of guilt intensified. "Technically you're hands were on the wheel-"

Suddenly without warning Sam's eyes welled up with tears and he started blubbing. "Ya don't understand! Tha' car-" He indicated the smoking pile of metal. "-took me 3 weeks ta make! To craft! From scratch! They wouldn't let me race until ah had a car!" 'They' Bugs presumed to be the Wacky Racers. "An' now I've got it it's-ah taken me four an' a half month to claw ma way ta fourth - fourth! - place! This - this! - was gonna be mah chance to crack at least top three! An' now it's gone! An' it's all YOUR FAULT! An' ya not even sorry!"

Bugs's guilt was to string for him to ignore now and he said, aiming for a placating tone. "Look Sam, I'm sorry, oi really am! I didn't know the car meant that much ta ya. We'll-" He thought quickly. "We'll get it fixed! Look, gimme a minute-" Bugs got a flag out his hammerspace and shoved it into the ground. "I claim this planet in the name of Earth!" He said, clearly.

As was expected Marvin appeared a few foot away from him and walked over with his own flag. "I claim this planet in the name of Mars!" He said, briskly. "Now, what is it you want, earth-creature?"

Bugs looked at him with a attitude that said 'really' and nodded his head at Sam. Marvin looked over at Sam and clapped his hands together. "Oh, Yosemite Sam! It's SO good to see you again!"

"Likewise brother." Sam said, gruffly as they hugged. "Now what can you do about my car?"

Marvin frowned and walked over to the wreckage. He made a few calculations and walked round the wreckage about five times all while muttering in Martian. Neither Sam or Bugs were fluent in Martian but they could pick up some words. 'Idiots', 'disaster' and 'time' being the main ones. Well after half an hour Marvin made the final notes on his checkboard and speed-walked over to Bugs and Sam, looking grim. Bugs and Sam immediately sat up and looked interested.

"The car is very nearly a write-off." Marvin announced, in his usual blunt fashion. "How it survived at all is beyond me. However it is fixable." He grimaced. "It'll just take a while."

"Eh...how long's a 'while', Doc?" Bugs asked, conscious that this whole thing was on a time limit.

"How long have we got?" The Martian asked, thrown for a loop.

The rabbit did a quick calculation. It didn't take long. "13 days." He said. "An' den Rhythm does Jones knows what. Give up hopefully. But de fact is we need ta get everyone back within those 13 days or they'll be..." Bugs couldn't even bring himself to say the words, a weird lump forming in his throat.

Thankfully Marvin understood [it helped that he had already been brought up to speed on the stakes offscreen a few chapters ago.] and he said, quickly. "Don't worry it will certainly take less than 13 days. Less than 13 hours probably, if we all work together and you listen to my instructions exactly without any fooling around..." Here he narrowed his eyes at Bugs.

Bugs was not an idiot. The meaning was clear and, although normally he might happily 'fool around', there was to much riding on this for him to do so. Really, strictly speaking, he should probably insist they leave Sam's personal junkyard behind, but he knew if he did that the pirate would never forgive him. And contrary to what people may think Bugs didn't want to upset his on-screen 'enemies' TO much...

"Well den." He said, brightly, clapping his hands together and smiling at Marvin. "Whadda we waiting for? Lets call de oithers and get fixin'!"

[ravenadottir]

i really love your headcanons and i hope this hasn't been asked before but what abt the types of music or even specific artists u think the boys (or girls too!) would listen to? me personally i only have a few ideas but i always see bobby listening to 90s music... and i feel like gary might listen to a lot of rock

hi anon! thank you so much ❤️

now here’s the thing. i don’t know a lot of european music. barely know british artists that aren’t dead, with the exception of arctic monkeys. so if you guys know artists that sound like the ones i’m citing, fantastic, ‘cause i don’t know them  😬 😬 😬

you know, i think about the year they were born, and relevate that about their preferences. and you know, i’m there with you. i think i mentioned a couple of times about bobby and the 90′s hip hop/r&b. so much of that happening on his music collection. i headcanon a poster of tupac on his living room, in his original apartment. girls like lil kim and eve being the women he had crushes, before he had his punk phase and fell for girls like joan jett and lita ford, and was listening to sum 41. maybe even some old 1960′s reggae too. but i don’t see it happening as much as the others. it’s more of a family thing. in his favorite punk bands i included dead kennedys, blink 182, sum 41, bad religion, and i stand by it.

definitely loads of rock for gary, for sure! no doubt in my mind that’s his style and i think he’s still in the “i don’t like anything else” phase. for him, i headcanon arctic monkeys, hard rock like ‘black stone cherry’, ‘halestorm’ and others of that type. when i think about gary i think about hard rock bands from the late 90′s and early 2000′s like blink 182, goofy green day and sum 41. i wanna include 80′s horny rock. you know the ones! every guy flipping their hair to talk about an ass, a girl, sex, or all of them combined has a special place in his playlist. not the bands’ whole discography, but those specific songs, like ‘cherry pie’.

chelsea loves ariana grande. that’s just... there’s pink, high pitch, plumes, 90′s aesthetic, ‘thank u next’. i reckon chelsea goes for pop like ed sheeran, and pop girls like ari and... who else is pop? i’m not quite sure.

lottie might dress in black and be a sorceress, but i don’t think she digs nothing too dark. when i think about her, i see dorothy’s ‘wicked ones’ song. but that’s as heavy as she goes. maybe something like ‘the pretty reckless’, but i reckon that’s her limit. nothing like ariana grande i don’t think, but maybe unexpected pop for sure. lottie looks to me like the kind of girl that listens to “this year’s hits” and is alright about it.

noah is all about the 80′s rock and honestly? when i think about noah vibing to something, ‘ain’t no sunshine’ comes to mind. bill withers really did something with those lyrics, and i know ‘toto’ has a special place in noah’s heart, but that’s the energy i feel belongs to book boy. i’m not the most versed in this field, but ‘ben e. king’, b.b king, luther allison. all that jazz vibe but with lots of heartbreak. anything that sounds like the 80′s romantic rock is also in his playlist. ooh, and ‘queen’. no one changes my mind about noah vibing to queen and even goofing around about it.

kassam. on his story, a year ago, i wrote down metal, among other things. this boys gives me the vibe of lots of heavy music influencing his own. initially i said metallica, and i stand by that, but also, i would love to see kassam casually vibing to ‘papa roach’. and i have to include other dj’s, like nina kraviz, his crush, and others like ‘the chemical brothers’ and ‘daft punk’. older more experiencied dj’s, and some experimental new ones.

carl. a freaking wild card! carl can be the type that listens to heavy death metal or go for smooth jazz all day, every day. if i’m honest, i think he goes for heavy things. it seems he puts out his stress into getting deaf while listening to music, but i could be wrong. he really is a wild card. and if i have to guess something, i would say he’s ecletic. he’s not headbanging in concerts, but he’s listening to heavy stuff while working on something complicated, awkwardly mouthing the lyrics. and when he wants to chill, calm genres are his thing, like blues.

lucas. hard rock from any decade. he has mad respect for those bands from the 80′s but can enjoy a modern version that homages the older ones. highlights include ac/dc, led zepellin, mötley crüe, scorpions, kiss. his revolting times include linkin park (no one can convince me lucas wasn’t the type) and slipknot. he’s kinda over slipknot now, but had a hard time with chester’s death.

henrik. I HATE TO BE THAT PERSON, but he does like reggae. i would like to think he keeps it traditional and not ‘hm hm chaka hm hm chaka”. so bob marley, peter tosh, bunny waiter. henrik might vibe to almost everything that is fun or tranquil. he has a genre for every mood. he’s also a headbanger, DON’T AT ME. he must be. i want him to be! pop is part of the repertoire too. but you know, artists like beyonce and bruno mars.

priya. r&b mainly. lots of 90′s r&b and rap, girls that paved the way to new female rappers and the ones who paved the way back for newsies, like nicki minaj. priya has mad respect for her. and i would like to think she likes horny rap like thee stallion. digs cardi b, that’s canon, and playful ones like doja cat too. has the biggest crush on bruno mars and definitely likes cheeky guys because of him. 

ibrahim. mainly horny r&b from late 90′s and early 2000′s. like every pony, usher, thong and more! i can see ibrahim dancing to a lot of the 90′s hip hop, like run dmc. if he digs dr. dre, busta and lil’ wayne i’ll be falling for him faster than he can say ‘beaver!’.

marisol. latin music. reggaeton before it was mainstream. old ballads like luis miguel, alejandro sanz and julio iglesias. she probably grew up in a house where her mother and aunties loved those men singing romantic songs to the crowd. she started dancing at an young age, so the ballroom songs from the time: 2003. ricky martin, christina aguilera. (don’t quote me on this, but i was doing ballroom dance and there was a lot of those weird remixes involving pop singers, and those were the main ones. don’t tell anyone about it tho).

[skeeter-110]

A Twist in the Tale (That’s Old as Time)

Once upon a time, in a faraway land, a young prince lived in a shining castle. As punishment for his actions, the young prince is transformed into a monstrous beast by a mysterious enchantress. Only condition is if he can learn to love someone and earn their love in return, the curse will be lifted. The prince - now turned Beast - felt doomed for eternity; until he met a little boy with a heart of gold.

AKA: a Beauty and the Beast Irondad AU

|| Chapter One || || Chapter Two || || Chapter Three ||

Chapter Four: Be Our Guest

Peter slowly opened his bedroom door several hours later, peering around it to make sure no one was around.

Once he was completely sure that the halls were bare, Peter slowly began to leave his room and walked down the hall towards the main lobby. All he wanted to do was to find the kitchen, quickly grab something to eat, and return to his room like he never left.

Thankfully, it wasn't too hard to find the kitchen. Once he got to the lobby, all Peter had to do was follow the voice of Happy and Ms. Potts and soon he was standing in front of two large doors.

"Splendid to see you out and about, Monsieur. I am Happy, head of the household." Happy greets, bowing before Peter. Peter went to go shake the clock's hand, only to have Rhodey run right in between them. "This is Rhodey." Happy introduces reluctantly.

"Un plaisir." Rhodey says, shaking Peter's hand.

"If there's anything we can do to make your stay more comfortable." Happy offers, before getting burned by Rhodey when he tries pushing him out of the way.

"I am a little hungry." Peter admits.

"You are? Hear that? He's hungry! Stoke the fire, break out the silver, wake the china." Ms. Potts excitedly commands.

"Remember what the master said." Happy reminds, muttering it under his breath as if just that sentence was going to summon the Beast.

"Oh, pish tosh. I'm not about to let the poor child go hungry." Ms. Potts brushes off completely.

"Alright right, fine. Glass of water, crust of bread, and then-" Happy sternly complies, earning a look of disapproval from Rhodey.

"Happy, I am surprised at you. He is not a prisoner, he's our guest. We must make him feel welcome here." Rhodey scolds before turning towards Peter. "Right this way, Monsieur."

"Well, keep it down. If the master finds out about this, it will be our necks." Happy warns as Rhodey leads Peter to the dining room.

"Of course, of course. But what is dinner without a little music?" Rhodey asks, slamming the door in Happy's face right after in order to muffle his objections.

As soon as Peter sat down at the table, a whole production started up.

The china was out setting themselves, music and singing started up, and what felt like hundreds of dishes were placed in front of Peter for him to eat and drink. All of the dishes and cups danced around, doing a bunch of tricks and completely entertaining Peter.

For the very first time that day, Peter actually forgot about the reason he was even there in the first place. For the first time that day, Peter's mind was filled with fun and excitement rather than grief, fear, and sadness; it also helped that his belly was filled with delicious food now too.

For the first time that day, Peter couldn't stop his smile or his giggles as he clapped along to the music that was beginning to die down around him.

"Bravo! That was wonderful!" Peter claps once the whole performance came to a close.

"Thank you. Thank you monsieur. Good show, wasn't it?" Happy says before yawning. "My goodness, look at the time. Now it's off to bed, off to bed." Happy tries to corral.

"I couldn't possibly go to bed now. It's my first time in an enchanted castle." Peter excitedly tells him.

"Enchanted! Who said anything about the castle being enchanted?" Happy nervously laughs, Peter giving him a somewhat unimpressed look in return.

"I figured it out for myself." Peter chuckles before standing up. "I'd like to look around if that's all right."

"Would you like a tour?" Rhodey gladly offers.

"Wait a second. Wait a second. I'm not sure that's such a good idea. We can't let him go poking around in certain places; if you know what I mean." Happy tries to stop.

"Perhaps you'd like to take me. I'm sure you know everything there is to know about the castle." Peter tells Happy, knowing that flattery was going to get him at least somewhere.

"Oh, well, actually, I- Yes, I do." Happy stutters out.

And that was how Peter found himself walking down one of the castle hallways, looking at all of the armor that was put on display down it.

Happy was going on and on about the Baroque period, or something like that. Peter wasn't listening as he wandered off towards another staircase. Peter just began to climb said stairs when both Happy and Rhodey quickly ran in front of him and blocked his path.

"What's up there?" Peter questions, his curiosity once again getting the better of him.

"Where? There? Oh, nothing. Absolutely nothing of interest at all in the west wing. Dusty, dull, very boring." Happy says, trying to deter Peter from going up there. Unfortunately, he only managed to fuel Peter's curiosity even more.  

"Ah, so, that's the west wing! I wonder what he's hiding up there." Peter ponders, trying to look up and around Happy and Rhodey to see anything.

"Hiding? The master is hiding nothing." Rhodey disputes.

"Then it wouldn't be forbidden." Peter says simply, pushing through the two household items standing in front of him. Happy and Rhodey quickly ran up a few more steps, once again cutting Peter off.

"P-Perhaps... uh... perhaps Monsieur would like to see something else? We have exquisite tapestries dating all the way back to-" Happy tries to offer, gulping when Peter continued to climb the stairs.

"Maybe later."

"The gardens. Or-Or the-the library, perhaps?" Rhodey chimes in this time.

"You have a library?" Peter asks, finally interested in one of the options.

"Oh, yes. Indeed." Happy confirms, letting out a few relieved giggles.

"With books!" Rhodey adds, hoping to continue making the library sound interesting.

"Scads of books." Happy says, going back and forth with Rhodey as they began to lead Peter back down the stairs.

"Mountains of books."

"Forests of books."

"Cascades."

"Cloudbursts."

"Swamps of books."

"More books than you'll ever be able to read in a lifetime." The two of them continue listing off, getting so into it they didn't even realize when Peter stopped at the bottom of the stairs. They just kept walking down the hall towards the library, talking about all the books they had.

Peter slowly crept back up the stairs, hesitantly stepping down the hall in the west wing. Fear settled into Peter as he continued to walk towards the only door in the wing, May's voice ringing in his head.

'One of these days, your curiosity is going to get you in trouble.'

That made Peter stop in front of the door, unsure of if he should open it or not. On the one hand, he really wanted to see what was so forbidden - it had to be something good considering this was an enchanted castle - but on the other hand, May was right. And if he got caught right now, who knew what the results would be.

Eventually, Peter's inquisitiveness won and Peter yanked on the door, having to lean back with his full weight in order to pry it open. Peering into the room, Peter's eyes widen when he saw the destruction inside.

There was furniture laying destroyed all over the floor, ripped-up fabric and curtains were barely hanging by a thread off of the walls and ceilings, and most of the paintings were ripped to shreds.

As Peter walked further into the room, one painting, in particular, caught his eyes. It appeared to be of a man, but it was hard to tell since it was all shredded up. Making sure to be gentle, Peter pushed some of the painting together, realizing it was a picture of a prince. Before Peter could wonder too much about who the man in the painting was, a pink glow coming from the other side of the room shone on Peter, gaining his attention.

Walking towards the table the glow was coming from, Peter could see that it was being caused by what appeared to be an enchanted rose floating in a glass bell.

Once again Peter's need to constantly figure out the science behind everything got to him and he slowly began to lift the glass bell that was protecting the rose. The rose remained floating in the middle of the table, Peter reaching out to touch it to see if it would dip.

Peter's fingers didn't even have a chance to brush against the petals of the flower before the Beast was appearing right in front of him, stopping him in his tracks.

Peter quickly took a few steps back, gasping in fear when the Beast ran towards him and slammed the glass bell back over the rose. The Beast whipped right back around after he was sure the rose was safe, making Peter shrink in fear.

"Why did you come here?" The Beast demands to know.

"I'm-I'm sorry." Peter stutters out, his voice audibly shaking.

"I warned you never to come here!" The Beast yells, his booming voice causing Peter to run and cower behind one of the tables that weren't completely destroyed.

"I didn't mean any harm." Peter tries to defend.

"Do you realize what you could have done?" The Beast roars, swinging his arm out and destroying the table Peter was hiding behind.

"Please! Stop!" Peter begs, tears streaming down his face as he pressed his back against a fallen wardrobe.

"Get out!" The Beast screams, swinging his arm again and shattering the wardrobe into a million pieces, almost as if it were made out of glass.

Peter let out a tiny yelp once he saw the Beast's arm coming towards him, quickly turning around and running out of the room while the Beast continued to roar behind him.

Not even looking back once, Peter quickly booked it down the stairs, barely managing to grab a coat as he ran past Rhodey and Happy.

"Where are you going?" Rhodey questions once he realized that Peter was heading for the doors.

"Promise or no promise, I can't stay here another minute." Peter tells them both before opening up one of the front doors; snow blowing right into the main lobby.

"No, wait, please! Please, wait!" Happy pleads, only to be ignored completely when Peter slammed the door shut.

Peter quickly hopped onto Phillippe - who, thankfully was still there - snapping the horse's reins before he was even fully settled, not wanting to spend another minute at that castle.

They didn't get too far though. Between the blizzard that was happening, and all of the animals that were around them, Phillippe began to get spooked and stopped in the middle of the woods.

As soon as they stopped, they were surrounded by wolves, growling and snapping at them.

Peter gasped and quickly whipped Phillippe around, making him run the other way. It soon became a race, with Peter trying to lose the wolves as best as he could and the wolves doing whatever they could to catch up.

One wolf managed to get right beside them, jumping up and snapping at Phillippe. Peter was barely able to pull Phillippe out of the way, turning them towards a different path in the woods in another attempt to lose the wolves.

Looking behind him, Peter saw that they actually managed to lose most of the wolves. He almost even let the relief sink in. That was until the ground started to give out from underneath them.

Looking forward once again, Peter realized that he led him and Phillippe to a frozen lake, and they were quickly sinking into it. Gritting his teeth and trying not to think about the cold water that was up to his chest, Peter pushed Phillippe to go further into the lake, realizing that the wolves weren't doing too good of a job swimming.

They managed to get to the other side of the lake, climbing up back onto the path. As soon as they got back on the land, Phillippe began booking it, giving Peter false hope that they were in the clear.

They only got a few feet before even more wolves ran in front of them, scaring Phillippe and causing Peter to get thrown off his back.

Peter screamed and fell face-first into the snow, laying there for a bit before he regained some of his senses. Lifting his head, Peter saw that Phillippe's reins got caught in a tree, making it hard for him to fight off all the wolves.

Looking around, Peter found a large branch that had fallen from a tree. Grabbing it, Peter quickly began swinging at the wolves, knocking one that was on Phillippe's back, off.

Unfortunately, that only seemed to make the wolves even madder, all of them growling and coming towards the small boy. Peter tried fighting them off, swinging the branch once again, but one of the wolves managed to grab the branch and pull it out of his hands.

Another wolf managed to jump up on Peter, snagging his coat in its mouth and pulling him right back down to the ground. Peter twisted and tried as best as he could to pull his coat out of the wolf's mouth, stopping when another wolf began to come towards him.

"No!" Peter screamed once he realized the wolf was about to pounce on him, quickly flipping and pushing his face into the snow to try and protect it. Only, nothing happened.

A yip could be heard before a loud and familiar roar, making Peter look up to see that the Beast was there and had the wolf in his hand. The Beast quickly threw the wolf down, leaning over Peter protectively and snarling at the group of wolves that were still getting closer.

The Beast quickly lunged towards the group, running away a bit to make sure the fight stayed away from Peter.

Peter watched with wide eyes as all of the wolves began to lung, scratch, and bite at the Beast. The Beast finally managed to get all of them off of him, throwing the last wolf at a tree while the rest of them ran off.

The Beast looked over his shoulder towards Peter, making the small boy gulp. The fear of what the Beast would do to him quickly left when Peter saw him swaying and fall back to the ground.

Peter almost took that as his opportunity, ready to hop back on Phillippe and leave this place for good. But something was nagging the back of Peter's mind, stopping him from leaving the Beast here to freeze in the snow; especially because he had just saved Peter's hide.

Running back over to the Beast, Peter sadly sighed before taking his coat off and wrapping it around the Beast's shoulders; although the small piece of cloth didn't really do much around the Beast's gigantic shoulders.

Peter struggled, but he somehow managed to get the Beast draped over Phillippe's back, reluctantly making his way, once again, to the castle.

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