#rare occasion where i vote for a guy over a girl
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My top 5 Crackships
Inspired by my top 5 8 characters thing going around, I want you all to vote on your favorite of my Top 5 Questionable Rare pairs
I will be providing excuses reasoning excuses below the poll, so if you feel like roasting me properly seeing my justifications, do that - or don't!
And remember, they're fictional characters, so it costs nothing to be normal about this and have fun
*Not all of these are controversial, but those that are? watch out!
Excuses:
Zuki:
If you follow me then you know I'm an OG Zutara fan, but on the rare occasions I'm feeling Cannon Compliant, Zuki is my go too ship. This has all to do with the comics, where basically Zuko's only confidant is Suki and you get wild panels of them looking at each other like this:
I was devistated when Korra came out and it seemed like Sokka and Suki didn't last, but if the above is why, then I'll take it.
Stobin:
I am going to get so much flack for this one I think. BUT. Consider: The cannon ships in the show are generally not well written. I like Hopper/Joyce, I like Max/Lucas, but Nancy/Jonathan and especially Mike/Eleven do literally nothing for me, they are so bland. I do see the irony that one of the things that makes Stobin well written is because its one sided on Steve's part because Robin is gay. But their interactions are literally the reason to watch the show if you ask me. Pushing past these excuses though, I just kinda dig the ship. In my head its an open poly situation for certain, but sexuality is so wild and fluid and weird, and Gold Star status is gatekeepy at best anyway, so like, why the fuck not. I had a great aunt who had an open marriage with a gay man, (big beard behavior) and they had kids and did everything together. Its like... Platonic soulmates + if you will. And that's what I want for Stobin. Platonic soulmates + and a big ole polycule surrounding them. Or maybe its just my incoherent bisexual ass talking
(If I could put fan-art with the polycule in it I would but I wouldn't repost someones art like that... so I'm stuck with cannon images)
Zacknei:
No one has played this game. When people think Zack, they either ship Cloud or Aerith, and honestly I ship both those as well (though ClAerTi will always be my top for them). But I love Cissnei. She has big Sydney Sage energy for me, and all of Zack's emotional beats in the second half of the game surround her (...or cloud) not Aerith (just for the record). Also if you join all the fanclubs and work hard you get invited to your own fanclub and I'm pretty sure there's evidence that Cissnei is the president which is hilarious. I just love their interactions and was DEVASTATED at the end. Analytical Girl & PuppyDogHimbo is a beautiful ship dynamic. Also Rick Gomez will always be my Zack Fair VA. I hate the new guy so much (and its not his fault!! Sorry man!)
Aquarella:
So the section is really short. But my god. Cinderella and Aqua have the most chemistry of any character in that game series bar none. I'm including Riku and Sora in this. I'm including Roxas and Axel. Ok, not really this is not the hill I want to die on. BUT. At least in Birth By Sleep, this is the emotional high-point. Aqua taking her hand like a gentleman at a ball? The way Aqua saves Cinderella from getting run over by her demonic carriage??? The way she lovingly protects Cindy's body with hers? Did you see Prince whats his face doing any of that ? NO. And then. If Aqua were a guy everyone would've seen it when this game came out (but I guess gay people weren't invented until 2015 or whatever.
look how devastated Aqua is when Cinderella goes to Charming at the end. IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN THEM.
Sorayla:
I really do like Raylum, but this is a poll on my hot take rare-pairs, not cannon compliance. Let me start off by saying, no, I haven't seen this season yet, it only came out twelve hours ago whats wrong with you? This pair grew on me starting in Season 4 after the time skip. I think it goes along side my preoccupation with tough smart girls and their dumbass golden retriever himbos. They have a nice trajectory, and with Callum going a lil dark and edgy on us recently, I like their banter a lot. Especially in Season 4 I was surprised by them and I crave more adventures with the two of them alone. I don't think it will ever happen, but I like it none the less. They bring a certain... Sokka & Suki vibe to the party that I'm here for.
Anyway, I tag @ebbilayart @retiredficwriter & anyone who decides to do it!
And if no one feels like setting themselves up as a target, that's good too!
#rayla#soren#sorayla#the dragon prince#cinderella#aqua#kingdom hearts#kingdom hearts birth by sleep#cissnei#zack fair#zacknei#final fantasy 7#final fantasy 7 Crisis Core#Stranger Things#Robin Buckley#Steve Harrington#Stobin#Zuki#Zuko#Suki#Avatar the Last Airbender#I didnt really have runner ups because I was only picking rarepair ships#or kind controversial ones on purpose#just for fun#posts by me
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Hi hi! I was the Yan Manny and Yan matpat anon! And thank you so so much for doing them! They turned out fantastic u did such a good job 🥺🥺❤️❤️/gen!
If you don’t mind another ETN request (cuz beainrot lol) could you separate Yandere headcanons for Bretman, Oli, and Tana? Take as much time as you need!
(also can I be called 💋 anon)
Hi!! Ty for the kind words, and of course you can be called 💋 anon! Trying another format (again tee hee 🤡) so hope this came out okay!
Tana
-Soft yandere enjoyers pspspspspp
-I love her sm. Like actually you know yandere or not she would treat you right
-She's another yandere that would want to protect you from anything that could harm you :)
-The problem here however is that she want to protect you from EVERY little thing. You get a scrape and she acts like you just died/j
-She doesn't really like seeing people get hurt, preferring more if she could just be left alone with her darling but yk how some people are
-I feel like she would be very two-faced as a Yan.
-Soft and sweet around darling, but scarily stoic around those she deems a threat.
-only on rare occasions tho, she's not overall that violent
-oh and totally unrelated but she would absolutely give the best hugs backtotheheadcan-
-girl treats her kills like it's a normal thing or something you would be proud of (why aren't you proud of her? She did it for you... ☹️☹️)
-like actually just coming home covered in blood and being like "heyyy bby 🥰🥰🥰❤️❤️"
-more manipulative than physical, although not over the top since unless she sees a reason to she would prefer not to have conflict
-11/10 would recommend
Oli
-SCRUNJLY BLORBO OUR BELOVED
-why is everyone from etn so 🥰🥰🥰💗💗💓💓
-no but actually he's so nice and protective of you and ajskfjdkka
-poor guy has no idea what he wants to do because he feels all these things for you but doesn't really know how to process or act on them?
-he'll figure it out in the end don't worry
-he loves you sm but unlike other yandere's (mat) he'll be way more shyer and toned down with his affectionate
-he doesn't want to try anything but one thing you'll definitely notice is that he's always hovering around you
-the affection he does show (in public, at least) will be something subtle like holding your hand or sprinkling in little compliments here and there
-would probably have a heart attack if you got voted into a challenge
-you make him go "🥰🥰😳😣" but also "😰😱😖😵" if that makes sense
-mainly concerned for your safety tbh and aims mainly on keeping you out of it rather then defending you from it
-more physical than manipulative, no offense but bro wouldn't be able to manipulate a fly 🙄
-also gives great hugs, mans a walking body heater and no I don't take constructive criticism
-10/10
Bretman
-woah there power couple, chill 🙄
-he'd be more possessive/obsessive, because yeah he does worry sometimes a lot but he knows that you can kick ass if you were in a situation where needed
-don't take that the wrong way tho he wouldn't hesitate to step in if you want him to or he feels it's gone too far
-he'd help you with makeup and stuff like that for sure. I mean c'mon, he's literally a beauty influencer (normally)-
- he would be really good at hiding his yandere tendencies, no one really notices and those that do think it's just innocent
-bro usually comes to YOU for hugs bc like remember earlier when Oli was your human heater? It's your turn bestie
-he likes holding your hand because in a way it's kind of like a mark but subtler?
-akkwjs you two lock pinkies constantly and he almost starts crying bc he adores it sm <3
-he likes wearing lipstick sometimes so when he kisses you it stains
-lmao random hc that he did one time but you didn't know and when y'all came back to the group everyone was looking at you like '🤨'
-he mainly tends to manipulate than do the physical stuff, but he wouldn't hesitate if it came to it
-also 10/10 we stan a ...male?boss?
-iajsnajak sorry I'm not too sure I got his character right
There you go, 💋anon! Sorry it took so long, I was very busy today 😣 Hope you liked 'em!
#anon asks#escape the night#escape the night x reader#xgnreader#xreader#yandere escape the night x reader#brentman rock x reader#oli white x reader#tana mongeau x reader
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Laser Treatments Ukteeth Whitening Rates" Laser Therapies Uk.
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Ok @dorkshadows @frostyemma
Here’s a key for names in Blade of the Immortal rendition of the Ikedaya Affair:
桂小五郎 is Katsura Kogoro.
池田屋 is Ikedaya Inn.
新選組 is Shinsengumi.
萬次 (万次) is Manji, the protagonist (one eye, scarred face, healing powers like Wolverine from xmen. Please be aware that he wears an anti-clockwise swastika on his back invoking its original meaning: a buddhist symbol.)
Warning for Blood and Gore and Dismemberment. Now onto the good parts!
Shinsengumi:
Left to right:
藤堂 平助 (Tengtang Pingzhu) is Todo Heisuke: Eighth Unit Captain -- note the fringe, the gi pattern
永倉 新八 (Yongcang Xingba) is Nagakura Shinpachi: Second Unit Captain
土方 歳三 (Tufang Suisan) is Hijikata Toshizo: Vice Captain
近藤 勇 (Jinteng Yong) is Kondo Isami: Captain of the Shinsengumi -- he is shrouded in shadow here
沖田 総司 (Congtian Zhongsi) is Okita Souji: First Unit Captain -- very beautiful and feminine
井上 源三郎 (Jingshang Yuan-sanlang) is Inoue Genzaburo: Sixth Unit Captain -- an older man
原田 左之助 (Yuantian Zuozhizhu) is Harada Sanosuke: Tenth Unit Captain -- very short, cropped buzzcut hair
斎藤 一 (Zhaiteng Yi) is Saito Hajime: Third Unit Captain -- note the...long bangs. The fashionable gi. The body-clinging shirt. Very stoic and quiet, keeping to himself.
First 6 chapters are about Manji and sets up plot stuff. Ch 6 onwards deals with the Shinsengumi and Ikedaya.
Chapter 7 Link. Overview:
Prelude to Ikedaya. Vice Captain Hijikata Toshizo (centre, vein in head) leads a strike team to raid a store rumoured to be aiding Ishin Shishi. The team includes Okita Souji (stripy hakama) and two known, real life Shinsengumi spies: 島田 Shimada Kai (big man, mole eye) and 山崎 Yamazaki Susumu (bandana).
In the house, 古高俊太郎 Furutaka Shuntaro and some helpers are indeed moving and stockpiling weapons for the Ishin Shishi. Furutaka is Ishin Shishi. He is arrested.
Later Manji, an immortal man (buddhist swastika) is talking to a friend with wild hair 坂本龍馬 Sakamoto Ryoma (LMAO) who tells him to go visit a fellow Revolutionary: Katsura Kogoro from Choshu (so shook to learn Choshu is 长州).
Furutaka is strung upside down as Hijikata tortures him for ‘information’ (this is apparently true to records).
Manji meets 桂小五郎 Katsura (reading letter).
Chapter 8 Overview:
The Unit Captains of the Shinsengumi come together for a meeting. Kondo addresses the group, they have gotten their hands on some very juicy information thanks to Hijikata. There is some intrigue within the group. Everyone is shocked to hear of the alleged ‘the Ishin Shishi are planning to burn down Kyoto as a distraction’ plan.
(Manga specific plot: evil little doctor girl studying Manji’s immortality.)
Next, another group is also coming together on rare occasion. The Ishin Shishi revolutionaries are introduced arriving at the Ikedaya Inn. People from Tosa Clan, Choshu Clan, Higo Clan. (This is before Sakamoto Ryoma struck a deal between Satsuma and Choshu. Satsuma is still in court as moderate reformists. They are against Choshu and co at this time.)
Chapter 9 casual translation:
The Shinsengumi gear up. They have tips on two inns, they split up to cover both. The two spies are their own group, their go-between.
Inside the Ikedaya 宫部鼎藏 Miyabe Teizo (white beard, moon gi - from Higo) and Katsura discuss their plans in light of the Shinsegumi’s weapons bust. Miyabe was a real life extremist, in here he scorns Katsura for not wanting to burn Kyoto during the Gion festival. The original plan was to take the Imperial Palace while Kyoto burns (never proved if this was real in history, but allegedly, yea).
Katsura makes a vote of non-confidence. “We should not attack the imperial palace because failure is possible. And if we fail we will never heal from the scars of this defeat. The revolution will be over.” “We should not attack, especially since we have lost valuable stores of weapons.”
Miyabe: “Then what does Katsura-kun suggest?” (just worked out right now 君 is kun)
Katsura: “We wait. Tosa’s Sakamoto Ryoma-kun has travelled to Ezo for negotiations and planning. It will not be amiss to wait.” (Ezo today is Hokkaido, North Japan.)
But another man called Yoshida goes: “That’s too benign/ mild. I am from Choshu Clan as well...but I think Katsura-sensei’s reasoning is too compromising/ safe. These mild, half-hearted strategies only get in the way of things that we can achieve when we give it our all. To protect the country, sacrifices are a given.”
(I cannot for the life of me find out who 吉田Yoshida [can’t translate given name] is.) Everyone cheers for Yoshida’s pro-burning, anti-Katsura hot take.
Manji: “Are you dumb or what? Your plan is a mess.” “You love to act on your feelings like thought experiments(?) What an idealistic bunch.”
Miyabe: “How about this, then...we change our plans.”
Pg 12 Miyabe: “We attack the Shinsengumi’s Mibu den. We rescue Furutaka. The likelihood of success is higher.”
Resounding ‘Hell yes! We’re not afraid of no Shinsengumi, good idea’ cries.
Manji: “You guys did not come here to discuss did ya?”
Outside the meeting room, a few guards hear some noise downstairs. Since they are out of booze, one goes to very half heartedly check downstairs and get more booze while he’s at it.
The Shinsengumi arrive. The raid starts.
...
Okita: “Looks like the Ikedaya was the right inn.”
Nagakura: “Alrighty. Let’s go teach’em a lesson.”
...
People come out of the meeting room. “What’s all that noise down there?”
“So freaking noisy!”
Insane Kondo Isami who apparently famously said:
“Routine Inspection!!”
“Shin....shin...SHINSENGUMI!”
Manji: “Ha--ahh??”
Next panels shows the Shinsengumi covering all the exists on the first floor. (Todo Heisuke with the fringe and cross-hatched hakama).
Pg 28 Todo Heisuke wonders about reinforcements that haven’t joined in tonight (not sure who they are.) Okita coughs cos he has tb.
Todo Heisuke: “Are you alright, Okita-sensei? You’ve been coughing quite a lot lately.”
Okita: “I apologise. I’ve made you worry.” “...tonight the condition I’m in can be considered quite good.”
*Equips poison damage to sword.*
“Don't even have the cold tremors of 芹澤先生 Serizawa-sensei.”
(Referring to none another than Serizawa Kamo, the original leader of the Shinsengumi. He historically did not have tb or die of disease though...Kondo’s side initiated a hostile takeover of the Shinsengumi and he was eventually Assassinated under orders from Protector of Kyoto, Matsudaira. Apparently in this version he was not assassinated. Funny of Okita to mention this...)
...
Yamazaki (bandana spy) runs by: “Vice Captain!”
“What is it?”
“It’s the Ikedaya Inn!”
“Confirmed?”
“Yes...about 40 people...including that man with one eye.” (Manji, cos he’s the main character.)
I thought what went on in the Ikedaya was actually quite interesting so translated most of it. The rest is mostly self explanatory, lost of fighting, dismemberment, immortal hijinks.
Chapter 10 and rest of chapters here.
Chapter 10 covers how Katsura famously jumps the window to escape (which got him a bad name for a bit as the window-jumping coward LOL.)
Manji jumps down right in front of Todo Heisuke. But he doesn’t particularly want to kill anyone. Manji himself used to be very skilled with the sword, but since he’s been immortal for more than 100 years he has a pretty low regard for his own bodily wellbeing. Which gives some pretty intense scenes so be warned.
Todo is good with the sword -- but Okita is on another level. Okita is the prodigy of prodigies.
Ch 11-12 Okita v Immortal Manji, Kondo v Miyabe. The Kondo scenes are NOT to be missed! Manji is a great swordsman when he tries, but in what I think is a bold move, the manga makes the point to tell us he is NOT as good a swordsman as Okita. Okita is stronger! Okita is more skilled!
But Manji...cannot die.
The second Shinsengumi group arrive to reinforce the first. Hijikata and Saito are here. Katsura v Shinsengumi foot soldiers. Bakufu soldiers are also called to the scene -- but Hijikata tells them to sod off, this is a Shinsengumi raid and they’ll take good care of it. Manga oc villainesses arrive.
Ch 13-14 also very interesting. Okita has been gored by Manji. Kondo and Hijikata hear that Okita has been injured. This is incredible to them, because Okita is their best swordsman.
Katsura and Manji escape back to Choshu’s estate (can see the Mori Clan mon/crest, one line, three dots beneath it). Katsura, basically: FUCK!! FUUCKK!! Man the doors, no one in or out!” “Today...the Shinsengumi won this one.” “But this...is far from over.”
Kondo petitions the doctor girl to do anything to save Okita. Even okaying super dangerous experimental surgery (this is to do with the wild manga plot where the doctor girl is studying Manji’s immortality -- he’s infested with helpful parasites that mend his wounds called ‘blood worms.’) Doctor girl: organ transplant dangerous. Kondo: DO IT!
If the surgery is successful -- I think Okita is immortal too!!!! BUT if it is unsucessful, Okita will turn basically into a zombie.
(Some VERY Frankenstein-ish horror imagery jump scare when the mad scientists show us what will happen to Okita if the Immorality surgery goes WrongTM.)
Behold, this zombie man, test subject for the blood worm immortality tests is --- 芹澤 Serizawa Kamo. Original leader of the Shinsengumi with a fate worse than death. It looks like the Shinsengumi, or at least Kondo and HIjikata are in cahoots with the mad scientists in some way -- the shadowy villainesses are all on their side. Anyways, the doctor girl works out that Okita’s wound was Not That Bad and he Should Be Dead -- and makes the connection that he was stabbed by Manji.
I think the implication is that Manji unknowingly transferred the blood worms to him through his extremely unhygienic stab. (Need the prior knowledge to know that people with the same blood type are able to accept the blood worm parasites...)
So now Okita might be ~immortal~
Starts off as historically accurate dramatisation for the most part -- then goes into 1864 bakumatsu scifi. You’re welcome.
#blade of the immortal#rurouni kenshin#blade of the immortal: bakumatsu arc#Also -- Dork look up pictures of Kondo isami#He....he literally looked Like That. Wide-faced. Square chin. Big man. He really really looks Like That#frostyemma if there's something you're dying to know screenshot and I'll try decipher what they're saying#this is in traditional chinese which is not my strong suit#at this point Satsuma was still in court and NOT an ally of Choshu#now just imagine this but second Shiinsengumi taskforce arrives on Shinsengumi side#and Choshu allies alerted nearby also arrive on the opposite side#then you can have your rk canon where Saito and Kenshin fight#also#Kenshin is hanging out with Tomoe in these events#rk#Right after this - Katsura goes into hiding#(maybe not in this version...we'll see.)#the way Kondo was portrayed in this ........um???#I was....actually real touched he did that for Okita???#despite him being Like That
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Melting of the Ice Queen (2000)
Once the music world’s Ice Queen, Faye Wong warms up to motherhood and new love as Rebecca Li uncovers.
AS Faye Wong walks into the photo studio at Chai Wan, Hong Kong, casually dressed in baby-blue pants and pink No Name sneakers that look like a cross between sports shoes and ballet slippers, she looks relaxed and girlish.
The colours of her outfit suggest that her life is absolutely bright and sunny. Even without makeup, her eyes obscured by aviator shades, she still looks completely stunning.
Well-known for her nonchalance to the media and her chameleon-like image changes, Asia’s most charismatically enigmatic chanteuse seems to have mellowed. Does it have anything to do with the birth of her daughter Jingtong in February 1997?
“The greatest change in me came not after the birth of my child, but after I converted to Buddhism in 1992,” says the 31-year-old. “I used to ask myself questions like ‘Why is it so?’ But not everything in the world can be explained. If it is so, it is so; there is no why. If it is fated, then it is so! You can only learn to accept your fate. A simple principle, but easier said than done.”
LIFE GOES ON
With her divorce from Taiwanese rocker Dou Wei out of the way, Faye seems to have moved on. The big news now is that she is dating a younger man, and not just any younger man too, but Hong Kong heartthrob Nicholas Tse, who’s all of 19.
The source of the rumor? The pair was snapped by paparazzi earlier this year, kissing at a party in Hong Kong club Greenspot…during a drinking game. And to add fuel to the fire, they have also been spotted having intimate dinners together on several occasions.
Gossip aside, it’s amazing how the public just cannot get enough of this long-limbed, 1.72 metre-tall Beijing-born beauty, who first set foot in Hong Kong in 1987 at the age of 18.
Back then, the artiste formerly known as Shirley Wong Ching Man didn’t even speak a word of Cantonese, and out of boredom, she enrolled herself in singing classes that helped her develop that ethereal voice that she is now so famous for.
After spending a couple of years in New York studying music, she returned to Hong Kong in 1992, changed her name to Faye, and released an album entitled COMING HOME. The rest, as they say, is history. In 1993, she was voted “Most Popular Asian Singer” and over the years, her star has just kept rising higher.
Within a short span of time, Faye has attained the kind of pop icon status that took her favorite singer Teresa Teng an entire lifetime to achieve.
Fans from as far as France devote entire websites to her. Film critics in Sweden gave her the “Best Actress” award for her role in CHUNGKING EXPRESS. Sony Playstation felt she was appealing enough to the youth market to pay her US$1 million to sing the ending theme song for their popular video game Final Fantasy 8.
If you’d holidayed in China last year and felt a thirst for Pepsi, you would have seen her gorgeous face emblazoned all over the can (that is, before the limited edition ran out).
A Japanese cellphone company used her for their commercial, but that perhaps is not even half as flattering as the fact that a Taiwanese artiste, Kung Mei Mei, released a debut album entitled I LOVE FAYE WONG.
QUEEN OF MODESTY
Faye has proven herself as one of the very few singers who have made a successful crossover into acting, with CHUNGKING EXPRESS, LOVE AFFAIR IN OKINAWA (which hit Singapore screens on 9 August) and the yet-to-be-completed 2046. But she still remains unimpressed by her own thespian talents.
“Actually I don’t have much acting to do in LOVE AFFAIR IN OKINAWA… and it is nothing as crazy as the character in CHUNGKING EXPRESS. It is much more normal and easy-going.”
And contrary to what others say, the movie has not been tailormade for her, she clarifies. “Maybe they just know this is how I am, I simply can’t act. Maybe it is because it is a different director (Peter Chan). I have only worked with Wong Kar Wai before. I’m more familiar with what he wants… I’m afraid of the demands from other directors, that I may not be able to meet their requirements…”
Faye says that she does not like acting because it involves teamwork and requires a lot of patience.
“For me, when you are making a movie, you have to wait. It takes a lot of time, and it can be boring. When you sing, you just need to go to the studio. I would know if I have not sung a line well, so I can ask to do it again. When it comes to acting, I wouldn’t know which way is better. When the director says it is okay, then it’s okay for me, I wouldn’t have any opinion of my own.
"I have also sought advice from many actors, like Carina Lau, for example, who never went through formal training either. She said, it will be fine, just keep doing it, it will come with experience! Maybe that’s true, I’ve only made three movies, which is not much of an experience.”
While most actors eagerly dissect every film they can get their hands on, Faye says she is not even a movie buff to begin with. “I don’t like to watch martial arts movies, war movies, period movies,” she says, without pausing for breath. “I do watch comedies, but if it is blatantly slapstick, I will definitely not watch it.”
And contrary to how so-called “serious” actors try to get into their roles by trying to get under the skin of the character they’re taking on, Faye prefers not to get in too deep.
“When you are doing a Wong Kar Wai movie, you can never be quite in it, because you won’t even know what the story is all about. When I was filming CHUNGKING EXPRESS, I really didn’t know what I was doing. You have to read the script a few times to understand what he’s trying to say. As I was playing the role, I was feeling that this girl is so irritating and inexplicable. Haha…" Self-mockery has always been a virtue of survivors.
LOVE ACCORDING TO FAYE
Now that she has reclaimed her "single” status, perhaps Faye will reveal the kind of man that attracts her?
But this line of questioning doesn’t get much information out of her – Faye would rather speak in generalities, and not about any specific person. Nicholas Tse’s name is not mentioned throughout the interview.
Sexiness, Faye says, is a matter of personality, a kind of feel. For her, there are no criteria to speak of.
“I have always been one to follow my intuition. When it feels right, then it’s right. The most important thing for a man is to be upright, frank, not to make me do any second-guessing, not to say one thing and do another thing. Whether he is sexy or not is secondary. There is not particular look that I go for. Except that I don’t like guys that talk to much.”
Still, despite her ice queen persona, there’s still a hint that the man who manages to make her thaw will find a hopeless romantic underneath.
“I feel that everything is fated. When a person is in love, it is like having a magic spell cast on you, you just can’t wriggle out of it, and you can’t be so level-headed as to examine yourself objectively. Some would calculate various factors while choosing a marriage partner and decide according to one’s requirements. But I’m definitely not someone like that.”
Translated by Ts’ Ming.
FAYE ON HER LEADING MEN
Tony Leung Chiu Wai - “I have worked with him the most number of times but never really talked to him. I don’t understand him too well. He doesn’t talk much, but sometimes he would behave like … he would be very affectionate, it’s rather odd. I guess he is harder to fathom.”
Leslie Cheung - “He is a buddy. He is someone who makes clear distinctions between what he loves and what he hates. He would explain why he likes something and why he doesn’t like something … a headstrong type of person.”
Tony Leung Kar Fai - “He is a very agreeable character, he would share his private matters with others, things like where his family has gone traveling, what they have encountered, how his daughter is doing … I think he would make a perfect husband, very nice, caring, and attentive.”
Takuya Kimura - “Kimura is a very smart person. But sometimes he’s very playful too. He’s actually a very professional actor.”
UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL
On hobbies - “Shopping for clothes is no longer my hobby, I only shop for 'working clothes’, so that doesn’t count. Recently, I haven’t’ had any hobbies. Apart from work, I just lie around at home, or meet up with some friends. I have not played mahjong for a long time." (Right, who has time for mahjong when one is too busy dating?)
On music - "Thinking back on my first record, it was released without much thought, and it was not very me. I tend to be more carefree while recording in the studio, other than that I behave very awkwardly. I’m not one who needs to listen to music everyday.”
On pursuits - “I’m not very worried about what to eat, or what to wear, just as long as I have a place to live comfortably. Actually I’m usually not so concerned about my appearance. I think the only thing I care for is my records, choosing my songs, recording a good album. Although there are some works that I’m satisfied with, I still hope to do more.”
On happiness - “A lot of times, that’s just a state of mind. As long as you know how to let go, you will be much happier.”
On her daughter - “I never planned to have children. I’m not a patient person but I tend to be nicer to children. Fortunately, Jing Tong is not naughty at all. I will not interfere with her future, my responsibility is just to raise her. Whichever path she takes from then on would be her own, that’s beyond my control.”
MAKING OF A COVER GIRL
Faye Wong has a habit of browsing through magazines while making up. She would rather stay a while longer than to rush an interview while making up and doing her hair. Such insistence is rare among entertainers, but how else to share your thoughts with so many people around to interrupt?
So this reporter had to watch her making up, doing her hair, trying her dress and taking the polaroids for a full five hours. But that helped her to warm up and made it easier to strike up a conversation.
As expected, her daughter Jing Tong turned up at 5:30 pm sharp, insisted on a hug and kiss, and on being Faye’s personal dresser – she followed Mum into the changing room. Faye looked completely transformed as she emerged, and her daughter started to mimic her, much to everyone’s amusement.
During the interview, the cute little girl interrupted three or four times, but she also knew when to back off after every act, without being told off.
As the interview drew to a close, Jing Tong grew more and more impatient. She shouted with all her might: “Mum, Mum, let’s go home!" It sounded like a little wish that was too long suppressed.
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SOURCE: ELLE
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i really hate to be pushy and ask for pieces of writing, but would you mind writing something (headcanons or an imagine) about what life as freddie’s teenage best friend and later girlfriend/wife would be like? like interactions at home, on tour, or at nights out. and how the rest of the boys feel about you. thanks a ton!! (also - don’t get me wrong - i know Freddie was totally gay and not bi; i’m just love him a lot that’s all) thank you very much!! :)
A/N: Hey love, don’t worry you’re not being pushy, I’m more than glad to write this for you! Hope you enjoy! Also sorry if there are any mistakes y’all were interested in this @fuckoffitsfreddiemercury @sail-away-sweet-shishter @terrified-aesthetic👀
Warnings: violence, alcohol, implied rape attempt, swearing
Freddie Headcanons
When you first met
When you first met Freddie, you thought he was an angel that came straight up from heaven
You were walking home one night and three guys wouldn’t stop following you
When they cornered you and you thought the inevitable was going to happen after no one answered your cries of help, he appeared
His black hair danced over his shoulders when he threw the first punch
And without much effort, he knocked two of them out and at least broke two ribs from the one left, who ran away
You stared at him, unsure of how to feel about the man in front of you
His cheekbones and jawline were sharp, his brows were furrowed and you could see the fire behind his eyes while he was fighting the other men, so fiercely yet so elegantlly
When he looked at you though, all his features softened
“Are you okay, darling?” he approached you cautiously and gave you a warm and reassuring smile
And while it was the most unique smile you had ever seen, it also felt oddly familiar
You jumped on his arms and cried on his shoulder without a second doubt
He was just a random stranger back then, but something about him made you feel like home
You somehow felt like you could trust that nameless stranger with your life
He hugged you while he whispered calming words
He eventually walked you to your house
A lingering look was shared between you both before parting ways
Your friendhsip
After that horrendous night, you met him again
You couldn’t get him out of your head
So when you saw him once again you decided it was destiny
You were looking around the Kensington Market when you found a specific market stall that called your attention
The clothes were something completely out of the ordinary, and so you approached it, curious
What really struck you was the voice you could hear from in between the fabrics as you walked closer
Your jaw completely dropped when you were next to the stall
It was the man who saved you some nights ago who was singing loudly and doing extravant movements to himself while doing so
And every note that came out of his mouth sent goosebumps to the wholeness of your body
“You!” you said, which you regretted at the instant, as he stopped singing to turn around and look at you
A glimpse of light appeared in his eyes when he recoginzed you
“Oh, darling! It’s you! How are you?” he rushed to come to you and gave you a kiss on the cheek, which felt like something completely natural
Even if it was the second time you had seen each other in your life
You chatted for what seemed to be a while, which actually were hours
You learned that his name was Freddie Bulsara, that he studying graphic art and design at Ealing Art College and that he was part of a band he had joined just a month ago called Queen
The conversation never seemed to die but you eventually had to go
So you both exchanged numbers
From that day, your friendship had grown and you were inseparable
Freddie had become your rock and viceversa
You eventually moved into an apartment that was two buildings away from his
And the sight of you both without each other was rare
Half of each others wardrobe was on each others places, as practically you lived together
You were so tactile and all the time you were all over each other
You barely ever used your real names, as pet names seemed more reasonable for some reason
And he became the person you trusted the most with only few months of knowing him
Meeting the boys
The rest of the band absolutely adores you
You meet them just a few months after you had become Fred’s friend, on one of their first gigs
It was at a small pub and not a lot of people were there
But you knew they were going to go far in their musical career, despite only seeing them perform 3 songs
You honestly were sceptical, even if Freddie preached his band as “the best musicians he’d ever met”
Or at least he’d always say that about the guitarist and the drummer, as he never was quite fond of the different bassits that came and left eventually
But just a week ago, they found someone who seemed to ‘be the one’
His name was John, and Fred would not shut up about him
“I swear, love. He is a genious. He plays the bass like it’s his sixth limb!”
“His sixth limb…? Wouldn’t it be his fifth?” to which he just wiggled his eyebrows at you
You smacked him when you got what he meant
Even if he talked wonders about each one of them, you didn’t quite believe someone could match the potential of Freddie’s voice without being shadowed by it
But you were completely wrong
“I told you so!” he exclaimed as soon as he saw your face when you went backstage and you rolled your eyes with a smile
You talked with the band and they grew fond of you rather quickly
You connected instanly
You loved to talk with Brian about the cosmos and you loved to listen to him talk and soak you with any kind of information and fun facts about space he had
“Finally someone smart!” he claimed when you matched his enthusiasm about science and the unknown
You chuckled slightly, but the rest just glared at him
Roger’s charm and yours blended perfectly
You both were big flirts, and you could have entire conversations of only that
Neither of you really had intentions with each other though
“I’m lost, can you give me directions to your heart?” he said some minutes after meeting you with a smirk
You could see in his eyes that the only thing he was looking for by saying those words, was to make you flustrated
You knew he was used to having girls in the palm of his hand and Freddie had warned you about him
So before the latter one could smack the blond’s head for the comment, you answered with the same cockiness
“Only if you can give me the ones to your room” he stared at you and blinked a couple times, taken aback, before bursting out laughing
“I like this one” he told Fred, and you smiled contemtptly
And you seemed to know what to say and how to smile to get John out of his shell
“Freddie told me you were a god when playing bass but… that was another level” he looked at you and smiled softly, his cheeks slighlty blushed “Can you explain to me how one builds the core of a song with only four strings?”
He seemed to like your question, as he started explaining into detail how important and underrated bass was in the music world
“I could teach you a bit someday” he said with more confidence than he had at the beggining and you nodded eagerly, grinning widely
They always asked about you when you weren’t there
You honestly wondered if they wanted you to come because they liked you or because you always brought them some homemade bakery you did
But you didn’t care
It was like you were another member of the band, and all of them were overprotective of you
They loved having you in the studio, as your presence seemed to calm things down and slow the constant banter
You had the final vote when there was a discussion about what should be done
And you knew how to calm each one of them down when one of them felt at the verge of exploding
They always joked about you and Freddie being together
“How did Fred even manage to get someone as good as Y/N?”
“Fuck off, Roger” you both said at the same time when you were cuddling on the studio once
You thanked the stars Freddie couldn’t see how your cheeks flushed lightly because of the position you were in
First kiss
You didn’t know how it happened really
You came home one afternoon completely exhausted from work
All you wanted to do was sleep, not caring about anything else in the world
And that’s what you did, you got inside your bed and doozed off the second your head hit the pillow
You got woken up partially when you heard your front door get open
You furrowed your brows slightly, your eyes still closed, trying to figure out if that was part of your dream or real life
All your doubts were cleared up when you heard a loud “GUESS WHO’S HERE, MY DARLING��� which made you jump
His face changed from a one of pure joy to one of mild fear when he came inside the room and saw you
He knew how much you hated being woken up and what was your mood when that happened
“What the fuck, Fred” you simply said with a raspy voice
“I’m sorry, dear!” He was quick to apologise “I didn’t mean to wake you up”
You sighed and got out of bed “Why are you here?” You asked dryly
His face got back to the one he brought when he got inside the house “it’s a surprise!”
You quirked your eyebrows “Surprise? It’s not my birthday”
He laughed “Every occasion is an opportunity to celebrate, love!”
You started at him, not knowing what to say
“C'mon!” He rushed you “Get changed! I’ll help you pick the outfit; you want to look glamourous”
He managed to make you both look like the fanciest you’d ever been and you loved him for it
And you hoped he didn’t get to spot the blush that had appeared on your face when you saw him appear from the spare room where he changed his clothes away
He took you to the most extravagant and expensive-looking restraurant in town and you gasped
“Freddie! A glass of water in here will cost you more than buying the Buckingham Palace! You can’t possibly afford this.”
He just linked his arm with yours and simply said “Don’t worry, dear. I got everything under control”
You had the most amazing dinner ever, as he asked for practically everything that was listed on the menu
There were only three things that crossed your mind though
How was he going to pay all of that
What was the occasion that you were celebrating
And how good he looked
You tried to ignore the latter one, shaking those thoughts away as you always did
You wouldn’t let a silly crush ruin your friendship
You were pretty tipsy when you finished the meal, so when Fred asked you to wait outside for him while he payed, you didn’t question him even if it looked like a weird thing to do, when you could just wait for him
He came out of the restaurant with a quick pace and a michevious smile
And a wave of realization hit you when he suddenly took your hand and started running, dragging you with him
“Freddie, you utter-” was the only thing you could manage to say in between breaths when you finally stopped in an open field
When you both normalized your breathing, you hit his arm
“You didn’t fucking pay?!” you exclaimed but you couln’t hide your smile
He just looked at you before bursting out in laughter
His laugh was the most marvelous thing you had ever heard and it always made butterflies fly in your stomach
But it was also deadly contagious, and you joined him seconds after
You looked at each others eyes when the laugh started to die out and only chuckles came out
You coulnd’t help but admire his face, the moonlight illuminating his face and making his eyes shine made him look ethereal
He suddenly leaned in and he kissed you, his lips pressing over yours softly but confidently
Before you had time to react, he pulled away with a soft smile
“You asked what we were celebrating” you nodded slightly, baffeled
“Well, the answer is that we are celebrating a change” he didn’t let you ask what he meant as he continued
“Y/N, I like you, as more than friends. I have for a while but I only noticed a few days ago” he looked away “I decided it was best to tell you. Because I’d rather lose you following my heart even if it hurts than to hide my true feelings”
He looked at you once again, meeting your wide eyes “We celebrated our last night as friends, for good or for bad” he said and you didn’t seem to find a hint of fear in his voice
“Oh just shut up with all your deep crap and kiss me”
Living together
You decided to move in together short after getting into a relationship
It didn’t seem rushed for either of you, as you already kind of lived together before, it’s just that now it was official
You found yourself doing almost everything as Freddie was completely useless with domestic tasks
But you didn’t mind and you appreciated that he always made an effort to try and help you
If you were all lovey-dovey before, now it was sickening
Cuddling, holding hands, hugging, linking arms, resting one of your heads on each other’s shoulder
The affection was constant and the boys always complained about it
“I will literally puke on this instant”
“Oh shut it, Brian. You’re just jelaous”
About that, the band was always around, so it was like having 4 roomates
You absolutely loved that
The flat was never quiet and music could always be heard around
And it would come from everywhere and anywhere: records, Freddie singing, the boys composing and even you humming and singing sometimes
Freddie absolutely adores when you sing and encourages you to do it
But you feel so ashamed because you’re intimidated to sing in front of Freddie fucking Mercury
But sometimes you will join him when he sings or you will hum when cooking and all he can do is stare at you in complete adoration
Which makes you flush deeply
You will do the most dramatic catwalks at home when you buy clothes
And you generally both end up on the floor, you because you always trip over something and he laughs so hard at you he ends up rolling on the floor
Sometimes when Freddie is blocked with his lyric writing, he will follow you around in silence
Because sometimes you will just say something that makes his eyes light up
“Yes! That’s brilliant!” he’d say before kissing your cheek and you’d chuckle
Fights were never something that happened frequently
Sure you still argued but it generally never was something big
When those happened though, it was so dramatic and messy
But no matter how angry you were at each other, you’d never make him sleep alone and he’d never walk out and disappear, because you know how anxious these would make each other feel
And you wouldn’t ever wonder about hurting each other on purpose
Your favourite activity to do together is to snuzzle on the sofa with a cup of tea and watch a musical
You had probably too many cats living in one flat
But neither of you cared
On tour
You sometimes went on tours with him
You worked as a writer, so you could adapt to that, but you actually preferred staying at home
You missed each other dearly obviously
And he sometimes shed a tear on stage thinking about you
You never stayed all those months without seeing him though, as you took flights to see him perform and stay with him a couple days
You never knew when you were going to take the next flight
Freddie just sent the tickets whenever he pleased so you always had to have a suitcase ready
You always gave him something that would remind him of you while you were away from each other
Pictures, pieces of writing, cute notes, mixtapes with songs that remineded you of him or him of you or sometimes even you singing those, whatever
But you had a rule about these gifts
He had to open them the night after the first performance he did
You knew he always followed the rule, because he always had to call you excitedly
“You made this, darling? I absolutely adore it!”
Talking about calls, he contacted you almost everyday, and sometimes even more than once a day
You were always happy to hear his voice through the phone
When he got back from the tour, he always was extra clingy to “make up the time I’ve lost without my other half!”
And he sure made up the time in every way possible
Nights out
You don’t go out with him too much
Most times he goes out after gigs or at private parties you can’t attend because they’re exclusive for musicians or such
And honestly you were alright because you liked going out but not too much
Also not going out while he did meant drunk Fred, and you found that adorable
When you do go out with him, though, you have the time of your life
Freddie generally is shy and gentle
But he becomes his flamboyant self that he is on stage with just a couple shots
He will do crazy dares and blush because of the alcohol and will always make you laugh until you cry and will say the most sappy stuff
No matter where you went to party, he manages to chat up the owner in charge and make the place a karaoke bar
So he will just stand up on a table and start singing the first thing that comes to his head to you
Even if he can’t remember half of the lyrics as he’s too drunk
It always makes you blush but nevertheless, you’re the one who cheers the loudest
When you have to go somewhere important and fancy though, you guys take it to another level
You always wear matching outfits that are outrageous but also so sophisticated
You always end up turning heads around
You always are on the main topic of conversation no matter what the even was about
And you both absolutely adored having that attention
You always eventually went somewhere more private where you definitely should not be to do things that you should definitely not do
The proposal
He proposed to you one night on stage on one of the biggest Queen gigs ever
Even if you were slightly pissed at him for actually making you get on stage, you actually ended up staying for a few songs, joining the boys and dancing around
You didn’t know he was going to pop the question, but you definitely knew he was up to something
“I’d like to dedicate this song to the love of my life, Y/N, who is here with us tonight. This one we’ve never played before, so I’d appreciate if you stayed silent, darlings!” t
This made you frown
It wasn’t the first time he had dedicated a song to you, but he never directly mentioned you and defninitely had never said that you were there. Also, a new song?
“This one is called Our Last Night As Lovers”
Then he started singing with Brian on the acoustic guitar, you couldn’t believe your ears
Turns out he had written a song specifically for that night
The most beautiful ballad you’d ever heard that reduced you to a mess of tears with every single line
When he finished the song, he looked backstage with a nervous grin
“Love, will you please join us for a minute?”
You were reluctant, but you eventually went, the crowd going completely wild
Your hands flyed to your open mouth when he dropped into one knee
“Y/N, you’re the love of my life. I can’t imagine a life without you. You’re my best friend, my rock, the one I love and trust. I am madly in love with you and I’d love to be with you until the end of time” tears welled up in your eyes when he pulled out a red velve box from one of his pockets
Inside sat the most gorgeous ring you had ever seen
Gold with a shiny, big diamond
“So, my dear Y/N, will you marry me?”
You forgot how to talk, so you just nodded agressively and threw yourself on him to hug him, which caused you both to fall into the floor
You were both giggling when he helped you slide the ring in your finger and you couldn’t stop the tears from coming from your eyes
He looked at you in the most loving way while he cleaned your stained cheeks with his thumb, and you leaned in to kiss him passionately
There was no way the crowd could become louder than it already was, but neither of you noticed, too focused on each other
Only a while later is when you noticed the inside of the ring was engraved
It read the current date next to “Our Last Night As Lovers”
A simple sentece that was sad without conext, but that made you the happiest you’d ever been
“Celebrating a change…” you murmured to yourself holding the ring close to your heart, remembering the night of your first kiss
It kind of felt like a deja-vú, the ecstatic feeling flowing through your veins once again
The only thing you knew for certain, is that your love for each other knew no boundaries
And that was the only thing you needed
DISCLAIMER: this was done for fun so please don’t make any drama about Freddie’s sexuality. Thank you!
#please give some feedback! thank you#request#my writing#freddie mercury headcanon#queen#queen band#queen fanfiction#fic#fanfic#fanfiction#freddie mercury#brian may#john deacon#roger taylor#deaky#deacy#disco deaky#disco deacy#freddie mercury x reader#queen headcanons
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Taming of The Beast - 06
Summary: All her life, Ye Chin Sun has been in the mafia world against her will. Finally, she breaks free of her family’s tainted history, only to be roped back in against her will. There, she will finally know where her loyalties lie, as well as where her heart lies. Genre: Mafia!AU Chapter: 6/? Warnings: Violence, Mentions of nudity Pairing: Kim Taehyung / Reader Word Count: 1 930 GIF NOT MINE
Previous / Next
The storm belittled the roof of the warehouse, testing its strength. The wind howled as it was forced mercilessly by the force of the storm, wanting to get out of the chaotic mess that often came associated with a thunderstorm. Thick droplets of rain crashed down onto the earth and whatever object was elevated, almost as if the storm was crying itself and the thunder were sobs taken by the storm.
Taehyung felt an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach that wasn’t going away. It had put Taehyung on edge, because he wasn’t sure what was causing it. Whether it was the stormy weather, or what he thought the ham he ate was actually off when he thought it wasn’t, Taehyung wasn’t sure. All Taehyung knew that everything was making him jumpy, and it was starting to annoy his hyungs.
“For the love of – what is going on with you?” Jin asked as Taehyung dropped yet another box full of weapons. Taehyung merely sighed before picking the box up as the sounds of the rain hitting the roof hit the almost drowned out the sound of Jin’s voice.
Jimin glanced at Taehyung, a frown etching his face. He didn’t know what was wrong with him. He’d better get his act together before Joon or Yoongi saw him in this state. Taehyung started to unbox the contents of the box onto the shelf when he felt shivers down his spine.
“Joon?” Taehyung called out, causing the six other members to momentarily pause what they were doing. Usually, when they were handling business to do with the mafia, everyone called Joon ‘RM’, not Joon. RM turned to face Taehyung, an eyebrow arched on his tanned skin.
“What is it?” Taehyung placed the box down on the ground before walking over to Namjoon.
“I’ve got a bad feeling about all of this. Do we really need to be doing this tonight?” Taehyung averted his eyes from Namjoon. Yes they were all considered brothers, but all it took was Namjoon to think Taehyung was questioning his authority for Taehyung to get punished severely.
As the Bangtan Boys conversed, Jun was getting his men into place to ambush the warehouse. It had taken careful planning, no thanks to help from Chin Sun, and Jun would be damned if she would ruin this whole operation.
He had his sniper in place, ready to gun down Taehyung. Yes, this was simply business dealing with BTS, but with Taehyung it was more personal. Jun didn’t know what he knew about what happened between his father and Jun’s, but this was more of personal satisfaction if Jun took Taehyung out.
Jun looked to his left and to his right, checking where all his men were. They were all set.
Taehyung sighed, giving up trying to convince Namjoon to change his mind. It was a lost cause. However, as Taehyung turned to go back to the box, the first gun shot was rung out.
Taehyung awoke with a start, and had to shut his eyes again, hoping not to get blinded by the sun. He had foolishly left his blinds open the night before and was dealing with the consequences. He rubbed his hand over his face. It had been a week and a half since that night, and Taehyung was still recovering.
Sitting up in his bed, his body ached and groaned with dissatisfaction, not wanting to leave the comfort that was associated with his bed. A ding came from his right, and Taehyung looked over to its source, his phone. With a heafty sigh, he picked up his phone, dreading what he would see.
It was another text from Da Eun. Taehyung sighed, dropping his phone beside him. She’d been texting him asking if he was okay, if he was coming into the university that day, and this morning’s text had been her asking if he was even alive.
Taehyung got out of his bed and walked over to his bathroom, looking in the mirror. That night he had escaped with a bullet in his bicep, a black eye, split lip, swollen jaw and other bruising lining other parts of his body. He had been drenched in sweat and blood, although he didn’t know whether it as his own or someone else’s.
Overall, Taehyung did not look ready to go back into civilisation. He couldn’t be able to answer the numerous questions that would be asked of him, and he didn’t know how he could look the innocent seeming Da Eun in the eye. Jin was supposed to go back to teaching any day now, when Joon gave him permission too.
Taehyung heard his call tone, and felt his shoulders sage. It was Da Eun. He knew it was. She called every now and then. Taehyung didn’t mean to be ignoring her messages or her calls, and didn’t know how he was going to explain to her why he was doing so.
“Taehyung!” The booming voice of one Jung Hoseok called, causing Taehyung to groan. All Taehyung wanted to do was shower, and he didn’t even get to do that. Taehyung exited his room swiftly, hiding his discomfort and pain as he went down the stairs off their multi-story building.
All the members of the mafia sat in their ‘office’, some members looking grim, others had their faces alight with the signs of hope, which made Taehyung all the more curious. He sat down on the arm of the chair that Yoongi was sitting in, waiting quietly to be spoken too.
“We’re at a bit of an impasse right now. Jungkook suggested having some of the girls from Blackpink’s residence come down to keep us company. We’re split fifty-fifty. You’re our deciding vote,” Joon spoke, not lifting his eyes off of his glass of drink.
Taehyung was caught off-guard momentarily. For this even to be considered an idea, it meant that Namjoon had to agree with it. This was a rare occasion, and without haste, Taehyung was voicing his agreement with the idea. It was not for the company of the girls of course, it was to see Joon relax, even if it were for just a little while. His leader had been overworking himself a lot recently.
Chin Sun was starting to get frustrated. Jun was breathing down her neck to get results, and he just didn’t seem to understand that she couldn’t get anything done with Taehyung ignoring her. She also had to get use to the fact that the person Jun had lost was her body guard. Yes, she despised the idea of having one, but she had gotten on with hers a fair bit.
Chin Sun left the lecture hall, annoyance buzzing in her veins. No Jin, no Jungkook, no Jimin and no Taehyung. She dialled Taehyung’s number again, and was not surprised when it kept ringing and ringing, with no answer. With nothing left to do, she went towards the main office.
She didn’t know how she was going to convince the office lady to give her Taehyung’s address. Maybe she might need to send a message to Jun, which she really didn’t want to do. Walking into the air-conned room, she took a deep breath, letting the cold air fill her lungs and stretch her chest.
“May I help you?” A younger lady asked, not looking up from her computer.
“Uh yes, I was wondering if I would be able to get my partner’s address. It’s urgent and we need to work on this assessment and he hasn’t been here . . .” Chin Sun held her breath as the office lady looked up at her, raising one of her stencilled eyebrows.
“I’m sorry it’s agai-“
“Please. I just need Kim Taehyung’s address so that –“
“Oh Taehyung. Don’t say anymore. I can give it to you, without going against the policy.” Chin Sun was in disbelief. This was surely too easy. “I just hope he doesn’t rope you in too deep dear. Anyway, tell him Yeri sends her regards.”
Yeri gave Chin Sun a piece of paper and Chin Sun was stunned. How? Snapping out of her daze, she picked up the piece of paper, bowing at the Yeri while saying her thanks. Chin Sun turned and walked out of the building.
Jun hadn’t given her a new body guard as he couldn’t spare it. Therefore, Chin Sun could go there without any hesitation of her brother interfering. Looking up the location on her phone, Chin Sun only hoped that her brother didn’t notice how much the public transport was going to cost her.
An hour and a half later, Chin Sun found herself standing outside a three story building, her anxiety spiking. What was she even doing here? She should probably just wait until Taehyung comes back. This was rude for crying out loud! As Chin Sun’s frustration and annoyance dissipated over the long travel, so did her confidence.
Well, I’m here now.
With that, Chin Sun walked up to the door and opened it. A man with red hair opened the door slowly, eyeing her. “You must be one of the new girls Rose was talking about,” was all he said before Chin Sun felt herself being pulled into the house.
The first thing she noticed was how hot the room was. The next thing she noticed was the barely clad female bodies all around the room, their discarded clothing by her feet. Chin Sun didn’t know whether to run or throw up.
“Why do you look anxious?” The man asked, a smile gracing his lips. “Hey Jimin! You’re girl is finally here. She’s new so don’t break her!” The man bellowed, and Chin Sun felt her cheeks heat up. What had she gotten herself into?
Jimin came bounding down the stairs, and froze when he came face to face with Chin Sun. “What the hell? Da Eun?” Chin Sun nodded, knowing she looked like she was a deer caught in headlights. She tried not to look at the cut on his cheek, or the dark bruise on his arm.
“I’m sorry! I only came to see Taehyung and if he was okay! I just wanted to work on the assignment. But you guys are busy so I’ll leave,” Chin Sun rushed out, turning towards the door, ready to leave.
“Nonsense! I’ll go get him for you now,” Jimin said before he called out Taehyung’s name. “There’s someone here to see you, you ignorant bastard!”
“I’m not ignorant!” Taehyung called back as he walked into the room. Jimin nodded towards Chin Sun, and Taehyung turned his gaze. “Shit.” Taehyung couldn’t believe this. He felt the rest of the members walk in slowly, two out of the remaining members not confused as to who she is.
“Da Eun?” Jin asked, stepping forward. Chin Sun tried not to look at any of them because all she could see was the bruises and cuts scattered around their body. She didn’t want to believe it. She never wanted to find all of this out! How could she look at Jun now knowing he was right? Or Taehyung?
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come over uninvited. I’m glad to see you’re alive Taehyung, Jimin, Jungkook and Jin. I’ll just leave now though,” Chin Sun said before pushing her way out the door. Her mind was racing so much that she missed Taehyung calling out her name, or the footsteps coming towards her.
Suddenly, instead of facing the sidewalk, Chin Sun now saw her looking into Taehyung’s eyes. “We need to talk.”
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New story! A little Don Camillo one-shot, set (roughly) between 1951 and 1957, my first foray into canon time for these guys. Hope you like!
Summary: Both Don Camillo and Peppone have a bone to pick with a trumpet player. Music has charms to soothe the savage beast, but what about the priest and the mayor? (on FFnet/on AO3)
THE TRUMPET OF CONTENTION
In the Lowlands, music, like a few other subjects, is something to be treated seriously.
Giuseppe Verdi is, of course, rightfully revered, and his name and works are one of the very few things that can make everyone – be they Red, Green, White, or Black – reach an agreement. It’s not even a matter of having culture or education: people pulled out of school as kids still know their Nabucco from their Trovatore. Folks will come by the music gene through blood, and you’ll find entire families passing down names like Radamès, Ofelia, Ernani, or Desdemona.
The Pedrettis were such a family. Iago Pedretti had a good voice for bel canto, his son Corrado played the bass drum, and when his daughter Leonora started to show interest for the trumpet, the little girl quite naturally found a place in the town band. She was singularly gifted, and before she was twelve years old, she could be found playing among the more experienced musicians on days of important events, wearing proudly her own bright white shirt and a cap that looked a little too big for her head.
The Pedrettis were so proud that, every time the band played, the whole family – grandfathers and grandmothers, aunts, uncles and cousins – went out en masse, all wearing their Sunday best, to see Leonora and her trumpet. They turned up for everything: town festivals, religious processions, political events, and so on and so forth. When Peppone was first re-elected as mayor, the band followed him and his staff on foot from the Communist headquarters to the town hall; as they crossed the main square, only a dozen metres from the church doors, the Pedrettis were first in line to applaud, even though every single one of them was a staunch anti-Communist and the band played Bandiera Rossa and L’internationale.
Don Camillo had watched the proceedings from the rectory door with his arms crossed, jaws clamped on his half-cigar, glowering at the blatant provocation. Afterwards, he went to the Pedrettis and protested to the paterfamilias.
“How can you let that little girl play for the Communists? Festivals and processions are fine, but not this Bolshevik propaganda!”
Pedretti was unperturbed.
“Reverend, musical talent is apolitical. As long as my little girl plays well, she can play whatever she likes within the limits of the law.”
Don Camillo bit his lip and left it at that. The day after he went to see Peppone in his workshop.
“Listen,” he said with a stormy glare, “the band aren’t half bad even though half of them are lunatics who still think Stalin is a decent person for some reason; they can parade in front of the church playing their nonsense as much as they like if they don’t mind having their bottoms kicked from here to Moscow if I catch them. But that little Leonora Pedretti is an innocent and I won’t let you recruit children for your Party.”
Peppone looked up from the motor he was working on and met Don Camillo’s eyes with a scowl of his own.
“I’m not recruiting anyone from the band. That kid is good with a trumpet, that’s it. Nobody’s making her wave a red flag around.”
“You’re right. She just plays the red flag song. Next time I’ll need music I’ll just hire the band from Molinetto. I hear they only play for funerals and processions.”
Peppone exploded. “Even you wouldn’t dare to do something so vile as that!” he shouted. “Just because you’re miffed I got re-elected –”
“Why on Earth this town picked you again knowing what you’re capable of is beyond me,” said Don Camillo huffily – especially as himself had, in what he considered a moment of weakness, voted for Peppone. “But no, your election in itself has nothing to do with it. The problem is that you and your henchmen are making a thirteen year old lass play music that could get her excommunicated, with her none the wiser!”
“If the Pope wants to set the Spanish Inquisition on people for playing music, that’s your problem, not mine! And I’m not the conductor, that’s old Gianelli’s job!”
“It’s the official town band! As the mayor and the boss of the region’s Communists, I’d say it’s your problem!”
They were nose to nose, sleeves rolled up, glaring daggers, and God only knows what would have happened if the sound of a lone trumpet, soon followed by a few other instruments, hadn’t reached them at that very moment.
It was rehearsal time for the town band and all windows were wide open to the cool evening air. Both men recognised the solemn tones of “Un dì, felice, eterea” from Il Trovatore. It worked surprisingly well, even without voices.
“Verdi will always be Verdi,” remarked Peppone quietly after a while.
“Yes he will,” said Don Camillo who had a lump in his throat.
They exchanged sheepish glances, feeling rather ridiculous now that the heat had died down. Then Don Camillo remembered exactly what had got him so worked up; but he shook his head.
“Look,” he said, “hear me out. We both know that the child has talent and Gianelli will soon be out of his depth because he only knows the basics of trumpet playing. She’ll need to study music seriously, in the city.”
Peppone nodded gravely. “I agree. Problem is, I know the Pedrettis. They’re poor as church mice. They couldn’t pay for music school even if they worked every second of every day for a hundred years.”
They stared at each other while the music drifted in on the breeze. Peppone put down the wrench he had been clutching and scratched the back of his head.
“I can have a whip-round around town,” he said eventually. “The Pedrettis aren’t very popular with my lads, but this is about making sure that a child of the people gets a decent education and a future. And we’ve all heard her play Verdi. Imagine what she’ll be capable of with a proper teacher!”
“I’ll convince the landowners to chip in,” said Don Camillo. “It won’t be easy, but I’ll wager they’ll listen to their parish priest. Besides, I can just point out the fact that she’d no longer have to play that garbage of yours.”
Peppone clenched his fists. But he breathed deeply and held out his hand.
“All right. Let’s see if the two highest authorities in the village can’t make this work,” he grumbled.
In the distance, the band struck up another song, faster and more spirited. Don Camillo shook Peppone’s hand heartily and walked away with a beaming smile while Peppone went back to his motor, humming along absently as he worked.
So it was that the town band lost a trumpet player, and little Leonora Pedretti went to the city to study music. An older cousin put her up; she paid for room and board by doing small odd jobs and delivering packages, and worked hard on both music theory and practice.
Leonora was not the first local child the village had helped on the way to higher spheres; it was rare, but not unheard of. The entire town contributed to the school fees: tenant farmers who barely had ten lire to rub together, die-hard Communist workers who called the Pedrettis ‘reactionaries’ and all kinds of unpleasant things, and even the rich farmers who found it easier to part with one of their limbs rather than money.
Such is the power of music. Politics often work their way through people’s heads; music always works through their hearts.
Years passed, bringing hot summers, hard winters, and one disastrous flood when heavy rains made the great river break its banks; people mostly waited till their houses were clean and dry before tearing each other apart over politics again. Elections came and went along with the years, and Peppone was re-elected mayor once more.
Through all that, the town folk cherished one of the real apolitical constants: the knowledge that their little trumpet player in training was doing a good job. The cousin she lived with wrote regular letters to her parents with news and the progress she made, until one day Leonora sent her own letters, because she had found a place she could live in by herself.
The few people who had the occasion to go to the city and hear her play all came back with reassuring words: the girl was good. Seeing her in the brass section in such deep concentration that she sometimes went cross-eyed justified all expenses and sacrifices. Her trumpet blended in perfectly with the rest of the orchestra, not a single note out of tune, which is the thankless fate of musicians without solos: to be essential, but easily overlooked threads in the big tapestry of orchestral music.
And then one day, as they combed through Leonora’s newest letter, Pedretti and his wife found a word that made them peer at the paper as though with a microscope. A word that was incongruous, fantastic, and truly and utterly foreign.
Jazz.
Their little girl wrote about learning to play jazz music.
The word was far from unfamiliar, of course. People listened to the radio, which often enough did feature music not composed by the classical masters. But in these parts, where land had history written in the blood of generations of farmers who lived and died on it not so differently than their parents had, and where the great river stretched out in the sun and in the mists, carrying hundreds of years of dreams, tears, and laughter with its mud and its pebbles, novelty and any of its potential contribution had to be weighed and studied before being allowed to become familiar.
Jazz was considered music, of course, but not ‘serious’ music. It was good enough for city people or foreigners – in other words, people who lived further along the country road – but not hard-working people who rose with the sun to feed the pigs, tilled the earth, or worked dairies, and then went to bed with their bones aching more every night.
The Pedrettis kept the letter and didn’t breathe a word to anyone, but soon enough, the word got out and ran throughout the village and its seven frazioni like an overexcited puppy. Unfortunately for the Pedrettis, it turned out that a lot of people had a lot to say on the subject, and much of what they had to say concerned young Leonora and the supposed lack of moral fibre in her upbringing. Nobody could agree on which would have been worse: the fact that a good, decent country girl, whom they’d known since she was little and who had received a proper Christian education had abandoned Verdi for the sirens of foreign music – or if that same girl had dyed her hair and gone around wearing make-up and short skirts.
Those whose opinion on the matter ranged from asking how bad it all could be anyway and not caring one bit what a person did as long as they were happy were sadly few and quickly drowned in the mass of gossip.
Chatter grew and grew until Leonora came back to her parents’ for a few days of holiday.
She had grown from a skinny child into a long, sprightly girl who walked with calm certainty and didn’t talk much. Her hair was intact, a little longer than it had been, and she wore no make-up at all. The folks who were still unsure about which of jazz or make-up was worse quickly made up their minds and decided on the former.
Leonora mostly stayed at the family farm for the first couple of days and to all intents and purposes remained blessedly unaware that she and her trumpet were all the village could talk about these days.
Since it was one of the few subjects which transcended politics, the more vehement critics soon referred to their own moral authority: the reactionaries and the little old ladies complained to Don Camillo, the Communists to Peppone in his capacity as the section’s secretary, and the others to Giuseppe Bottazzi in his capacity as mayor – which meant Peppone pulled a double shift. He was mightily annoyed about it all.
On one hand, it irritated him to no end that imperialist America had ruined yet another honest Italian girl, luring her with its newfangled ways and flashy… what exactly he hadn’t figured out yet, but knew he would have to if asked. And he couldn’t swallow the fact that a musician, after studying and playing masters like Verdi or Puccini – but mostly Verdi – could just move on to something so different as simply as that. It felt like a betrayal.
On the other, he had always had an argumentative streak, and seeing all those people finding fault in one girl bothered him a little. Leonora Pedretti wasn’t a political adversary and she hadn’t chosen to shoulder any kind of authority at all: she was only a trumpet player. And not even the kind to want to play Giovinezza or La Marcia Reale, either.
It was all very complicated, and Peppone didn’t like complicated.
In the end, he shoved his hat on his head one morning and went out to town.
It was market day on a fair, bright morning, and people flooded the main square. Peppone pushed through the crowd and the stands to get to the church parvis, where Don Camillo was sitting on his usual bench near the rectory door, reading a newspaper and smoking a half-cigar.
“Listen here,” he said, planting his fists on his hips, “what have you been telling your church biddies about that Pedretti girl?”
Don Camillo raised his head, looking curious.
“What do you mean?”
“There’s been no end of whiners and complainers knocking on the People’s House and the town hall lately telling me I should do something about that blasted affair. The Communists I can handle, but some of the others were your crowd and I’ve had it up to here.”
“Comrade, you’ve chosen to run for mayor and somehow you got elected,” said Don Camillo, going back to his newspaper. “It’s only natural that people will look to you to sort things out, God help them.”
Peppone was beginning to see red.
“When the girl was in the town band, she played the people’s music and you couldn’t stomach it. Now she’s not in the town band anymore and she’s playing American propaganda garbage! How do you like that?”
Don Camillo folded up his newspaper and rose to his feet.
“And what’s it got to do with me?” he asked in a dangerous voice.
“You’re the one always defending ruddy America like it’s a bastion of decency against the big scary Reds,” shouted Peppone, “and meanwhile the same America turns our girls’ heads and corrupts them until they forsake Verdi for some so-called music nobody can understand unless they speak English!”
“Reds never scare me, big or little!” bellowed Don Camillo, and he gripped Peppone by the lapels of his jacket.
Peppone grabbed him by the front of his cassock and roared, “I’ll see about that!”
Blood boiled, the pressure was off the charts, and blows would probably have started raining any second from two pairs of hands as big as shovels, when a loud, discordant noise sounded all around the square.
It was a noise like a duck getting stomped on, and it was just absurd enough to make both men freeze.
The market stand owners and the people around them had left their shopping to watch something potentially more interesting, namely a brawl between the mayor and the priest; but they all froze, too, and turned to the point of origin of that awful sound.
Young Leonora Pedretti was standing in the middle of the square wearing her Sunday dress and a defiant scowl on her face. In her right hand was her trumpet.
She breathed deeply, raised the mouthpiece to her lips, and began to play.
Later on, when people could reflect on it calmly, they realised things were missing, like a clarinet, a piano, some percussions, and maybe a double bass. But it was of little importance.
Music rose out of that little trumpet, a melancholic melody, like someone determined to keep hope alive through tears. The music – thin, bordering on reedy – trembled and tensed but always landed on its feet. It was a sound that tore a piece of your heart while telling you you were allowed to cry over it. Then Leonora segued into another song, more cheerful, cheeky even, with little high notes that sounded like winks, if winks could be turned into sound. It wasn’t mocking, however, but rather invited you to share a joke. The number was short, and soon gave way to a third song.
This time the trumpet was gentle and warm, the notes ample and clear, and the melody flew into the blue sky to the great river shining under the sun. And the people on the square heard, in the silence between breaths and in the quiver that punctuated the notes, the voices of men, women and children not so different than they were, who played and sang about hope, freedom, loss, joy, grief, their faith in God and their own great river that flowed majestically to the sea, carrying hundreds of years of blood, tears, and dreams not so different than their own.
Leonora held the last note and slowly lowered the trumpet, her face crimson from neck to hairline. She cast a last long look at the square full of people and walked away without a word. Everything she meant to say had been said.
Peppone and Don Camillo had loosened their grip on each other during the impromptu concert without quite knowing when or how. They both kept staring at the spot Leonora had been half a minute after she left.
“…Well,” said Don Camillo eventually in a voice that shook ever so slightly, “that wasn’t Verdi.”
“No, it wasn’t.” Peppone ran a hand across his eyes and fumbled for his handkerchief.
They looked at each other, opened their mouths to add something, but both realised at the same time that they, too, had said everything they meant to say.
They both took off their hats to each other. Don Camillo returned to his bench, still looking dazed, while Peppone went back home the long way, along the road on the main dyke, where he could see his great river and watch the sun wink on the muddy waters.
After that memorable market day, when Don Camillo received a complaint about girls who were no better than they should be and played music they should not, he threw out his arms and said, “I don’t know if it’s the Devil’s music. All I know is what I heard, and what I heard was so beautiful that I don’t believe God would leave it to the Devil.” And the crucified Christ on the main altar smiled, because he was right.
When the same people went to Peppone, he crashed his enormous fist on his desk and shouted, “The next wretch who says anything against that bloody trumpet goes through the window and learns to fly. Do I make myself clear?”
“Daddy,” his youngest boy asked him that very evening as his father went to give him his good night kiss, “what did that lady play the other day, exactly?”
Peppone vaguely sensed that the question had some importance; he thought long and hard before answering in a tone of finality, “She played the trumpet, and she played it well.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
And, as it turned out, he was quite right.
THE END
Thank goodness for music. The world would be so much darker, colder, and poorer without it!
Translations/Notes:
Red, Green, White, and Black: respectively Communists, Republicans (anti-monarchist, anti-clerical, and anti-fascist party, which was still left of the political centre at the time), Christian Democrats, and Fascists.
Radamès is from Aida; Ernani is from the eponymous opera; Desdemona and Iago are from Otello; Corrado is from Il Corsaro; Leonora is from Il Trovatore and La forza del destino; Ofelia stands out, being from a lesser-known opera (based on Hamlet) and not from Verdi.
Don Camillo voting for Peppone in his first re-run as mayor is a reference to one of the short stories, "Ancora il fantasma del cappello verde" (the ghost with the green hat again). The "ghost" is Peppone, who sneaked into the church in the middle of the night to pray for re-election and inadvertently left his hat behind. At the very end of the campaign, when it looks like he's going to lose, he makes an honest speech, straight from the heart, in which he asks his citizens to treat the election as a verdict on how good a job he did… and wins by a landslide. Don Camillo later admits to the crucified Christ on the main altar that seeing Peppone like this, sad and lonely, moved him so much he voted for him – and he's confused and furious about it.
I must admit fumbled with the chronology a little bit. Peppone's first re-election was in summer 1951, and the terrible flood from the Po river (some of it depicted in the second Don Camillo film with actual news footage) happened in both the real world and the "Little World" a few months later, in November.
Giovinezza (Youth) was the official hymn of the Italian Fascist Party, regime, and army up until 1943; the Marcia Reale (Royal March) was the official hymn of the Kingdom of Italy from 1861 to 1946. Both were usually played with the other, and both were forbidden after World War 2.
(If you liked, please consider leaving a comment so I know I’m not just shouting in the desert - not that I mind, but it gets lonely without someone to share it with!)
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Got7 Jackson Scenario: Perfect *SMUT*
Hey guys! So, I wanted to try something new after I got the request for this. For anyone who is curious, this is the first smut that I have ever written, so I would really love your feedback! I wanted it to be super fluffy. I might add on writing smuts occasionally, but only under specific circumstances. I am not someone who would enjoy writing anything super dirty so any smuts I write will be super fluffy like this one and not super kinky. As always, if there’s anything that you want to see, please feel free to send me a request! I love writing what you guys want to see! Please remember to vote in my 600 Follower Poll! Lets get into this, shall we?
Request:
Anonymous: Can I get a Got7 Jackson scenario where his shy s/o, who usually wears normal comfortable clothes, wears something sexy for the first time to try to impress him or do something different for him? Can you also make it fluffy and smutty/suggestive? (You don’t have to do the smut if you don’t want to) Thank you!
This is my first attempt at a smut, so I really hope that you like it. I’m really nervous to post this. It’s certainly fluffy, I will say, and my test readers liked it so we’ll see how this goes, I guess. I may add smut to the work that I do, but only things that are super fluffy and not the more kinky stuff, I’m not really comfortable with that.
You were a little nervous about your date today. You and Jackson had been dating for well over a year, but you rarely went on dates that weren't in casual dress. Most of the time, you went to amusement parks, arcades or things that were just fun. For the first time in a long time, the two of you were going to a nice restaurant to eat and you had decided to dress up a little more then usual. A while back, you and your best friend had been shopping and she made you try on a little more of a flashy and tight fitting dress then what you were normally comfortable wearing. It's not over the top or anything, but it's definitely out of your comfort zone with the skirt having a tighter fit and landing at your mid thigh and a top that shows a tiny bit of cleavage. "Are you ready Jagi?" Jackson doesn't give you time to answer, immediately opening the door and stepping into your shared bedroom. You can't help but blush and duck your head, unable to meet his eyes," Whoa, what's the occasion?" "I figured this might be a little better for going to a restaurant then what I normally wear," Your soft voice floats through the room, hanging in the empty space. Jackson closes the space between the two of you and tips your chin up. "There's nothing wrong with what you normally wear, baby," Jackson's voice is low as he presses a soft kiss to your lips. "I don't necessarily think what I normally wear is bad, I just thought that maybe an idol's girlfriend should dress more like this," Your voice is small as you look at the serious expression on Jackson's face. "Don't ever think that you're not perfect just the way that you are. The girl in front of me is the girl that I fell in love with, regardless of what clothes she's wearing," Jackson backs you up against the wall, his expression intense. Jackson presses butterfly kisses along your jaw, causing your heart rate to speed up. You can't stop yourself from reacting like this whenever Jackson is close to you. Your head falls back against the wall before you can stop it as his soft kisses move to your neck. "But...." Jackson interrupts you before you can say anything else. "But nothing," Jackson kisses you, his mouth claiming yours. It's the kind of kiss you feel all the way down to your toes, warming you up inside. His arms enclose you, pulling you tightly against him. "Shouldn't we be going soon?" You make no move to stop him as he moves the strap of your dress aside so he can kiss along your shoulder. You don't want to leave necessarily, but Jackson had been planning this dinner for a while now. "This is more important," Jackson's kisses move to your collarbone, his teeth scraping against it when he speaks. You swallow thickly," I don't ever want you to see yourself that way again." Jackson consumes you in a kiss again, and this time, you don't stop him. It's the kind of kiss that starts off slow but heats up fast. You are pressed up against the wall and Jackson is pressed tightly against you. You can feel every inch of him and you can't help but feel heat pooling in your stomach as Jackson's tongue traces your bottom lip. You easily let him in, your fingers knotting in his hair. "I'm going to take care of you today, baby," Jackson's hands find the zipper on your back," I want to remind you of how much I love you. I'll make you feel exactly how amazing I think you are." Jackson unzips your dress slowly letting it fall to your feet. Then, he throws you over his shoulder and easily carries you to the bed, placing you down gently. He settles in between your legs as he kisses your sensually. This isn't the first time that you and Jackson had slept together, but he always made you feel as if you were on a roller coaster that had no end. His hand brushes up your stomach, sending shivers down your spine. You could feel yourself getting wet and you had barely even started. Jackson is quick to remove your bra, his lips enclosing around one of your nipples. You let out a small gasp, your back arching. His thumb and forefinger play with your other nipple, your eyes closing and your hand going to your mouth. His hand brushes down your stomach again, pressing gently against the crotch of your panties. His a habit of his that you never quite understood, like he was trying to make sure that you were wet before he even removed your panties. You had never gotten around to telling him that he definitely didn't need to worry about that since he warmed you up fast. He sits up and pulls your panties down, his finger quickly finding and massaging your clit. A small moan slips from your lips and your back arches again. He works your clit faster as he easily slides a finger in. His finger arches and he has you panting, another moan leaving you. "Don't worry baby, I'll take good care of you," Another finger slides in and you can feel a knot forming in your stomach. He picks up speed, the sound of his fingers sliding in and out more then you can handle. He leans down to suck your clit into his mouth, sending you teetering to the edge. With a few harsh sucks and the curling of his fingers has you falling over the edge, a loud moan falling from your lips," Are you ready baby?" You can't bring yourself to speak so you simply nod your head. Jackson undresses at a blinding speed, sliding on a condom. He kisses you again as he lines himself up, sliding in easily. Jackson is the type of guy to build up momentum, starting off slow before ending in a blinding speed. Jackson's lips attach to the curve of your shoulder, sucking harshly on the skin as he picks up speed, hitting the spot that sends fire through your body. "Jackson, please," You moan, your nails scratching down his back. "Of course, baby," Jackson grins, gripping your hips tightly as he reaches his fastest rhythm, slamming into you. Your back arches as you tighten around him, causing a groan to leave his lips. "I'm close," You pant, unable to keep from writhing from his every touch. "Good. Let go for me, baby," Jackson's rhythm is starting to break as his hips stutter. He's close too. Jackson slams into your g-spot one last time, sending you back over the edge a second time. Jackson isn't far behind. You can't help but feel your eyes fall closed. Jackson always tires you out. Jackson gets up to dispose of the condom, grabbing a rag to clean the both of you up. "We can take a shower later. lets rest for now," Jackson wraps his arms around you, letting you rest your head on his chest," You are perfect and I won't ever let you think otherwise." You didn't think you were anything special, but it was impossible not to think good things about yourself with a boyfriend like Jackson. You breathing slows as you feel yourself falling into a fit sleep, nestled against your perfect boyfriend. His warmth envelopes you, allowing you to relax and enjoy the moment.
Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed! Please feel Free to send me any requests you might have! Also, please vote in my 600 Follower Poll!
#got7#got7 scenarios#got7 smut#got7 jackson#got7 jackson wang#got7 jackson scenarios#got7 jackson smut#got7 jackson wang scenarios#got7 jackson wang smut
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HALLOWEEN RADIO | 10.31.20
Secret Radio | Halloween special 10.31.20 | Hear it here.
Artwork by Paige, Liner notes by Evan except * means Paige
1. Sam the Sham - “Little Red Riding Hood” *
I had to make the case to Evan that this was a Halloween song, but I justify with the fact that 1.) this song uses the phrase “spooky ol’ woods” and 2.) many years ago, Sleepy Kitty played a festival on Cherokee Street that wasn’t a Halloween show but it happened to be the Saturday before Halloween. Recognizing our responsibility, we scrambled to throw together costumes and realized that if we just got a wolf mask and paws we already had everything in our wardrobes to throw together the Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs LP cover drawing of Red and the wolf. Evan says he doesn’t like Halloween but it’s only because once he commits, he commits completely. One of my favorite moments of the night was spotting Evan that night, several hours after our set in the afternoon, having a completely serious and sincere conversation with a friend – wolf nose and paws still intact. This was pre iPhone days, but I tracked down an image and I’m gonna put it on our fake radio insta. Thus, Little Red Riding Hood is in fact a Halloween song.
2. Roky Erickson - “I Walked with a Zombie”
Every year, reliably, Paige’s dad Ned tells us we should cover “I Walked with a Zombie,” and each year we somehow don’t do it. So this live version of the song is for him, just in case this is the closest we ever get.
Halloween tag
3. Steve Martin - Little Shop of Horrors soundtrack - “Dentist!”
Sure, an alarmingly large and hungry, sharp-toothed plant is scary. But is it as terrifying as a dentist who delights in the pain he inflicts? “I thrill when I drill a bicuspid” — shiver!
4. Hocus Pocus soundtrack - “Sarah’s Theme”
Our definition of a good Halloween movie is way less horrifying than it is lightly spooky, so “Hocus Pocus” is just about ideal for our purposes. This is the sound of Paige’s delighted Halloween youth… though we also just watched it again. Holds up!
5. The Beatles - “Mr. Moonlight”
Paige pointed out that this is essentially a religious song to the moon — a song of praise, devotion, and submission to a greater power.
6. Quasi - “Ghost vs. Vampire”
I know that Quasi has had a long and illustrious career, but my fandom is frozen at this pinnacle of mystical bummerness. I learned so much about being creatively sad from Sam Coomes.
7. Rocky Horror Picture Show - “Sweet Transvestite”
8. The Velvet Underground - “The Gift”
Didn’t realize this was a Halloween song until tonight. If Hitchcock is proper Halloween, which I vote a definite yes, then “The Gift” is ultra Halloween.
9. Bauhaus - “Bela Lugosi’s Dead”
I feel like I have to say psychic hello to my friend Joseph Grady, who first introduced me not just to the coolness of Peter Murphy but to the allure of vampires generally. I wore my nails and my coats long. We talked about what the vampires were up to that night. We had some truly perfect nights together.
10. The Bitter Tears - “Murdered at the Bar”
An invaluable prize from being in a certain scene in a certain set of years in Chicago with the School of the Art Institute crowd — grad and undergrad. We all loved this song, and 15 or so years later, “we all” turns out to be a very specific and much-loved crew of people I miss and love. Except for Chris Shea, who I love and get to hang out with here in the city. This song is for him especially.
11. Phantom of the Opera - Korean cast - “Point of No Return”
We had this epiphany accidentally. As I recall, we watched the movie version of “Phantom,” and I was distinctly not impressed, but then Paige put on the French-Canadian version and we were both fascinated by how different it was. That led us into Phantom Internationalé, wherein we just looked up versions from all over the world. It is amazing: each version is both militantly like and distinctly unique from the others. The Korean Phantom emerges as the most singular from among the versions we heard, and “Point of No Return” an emotional height.
Meet Me in St. Louis - “Tootie the Horrible”
One of the greatest Halloween scenes in the history of cinema in our book.
12. Donovan - “Season of the Witch”
13. “The Dweller of the Cave” * I Found this tape at my parents’ house this summer while we were delayed in Illinois between March and whenever the van got fixed and we drove back. Rediscovering this tape may be why you’re listening to this whole fake radio spooktacular tonight. Hi to Stewart and Jill.
14. Science Fiction Double Feature *
15. Dr. Who Theme Song*
16. Red Dwarf Theme Song*
The previous 3 songs were woven into a medley for Sleepy Kitty’s KMNR Freaker’s Ball. It’s one of life’s great pleasures for a band to play Freaker’s Ball, we literally wound around a wooded road to find some Elk’s Lodge or something full of college kids DECKED THE HECK OUT in EPIC COSTUMES ready to freakin’ get down. Never have I been closer to being the band in the prom scene of a 90s movie than at a Freaker’s Ball. We met some rad folks through the KMNR scene, and if I’ve ever told you about my custom vocal pedals, Colin of CroyTone Audio was one of those rad folks we met one of those magical nights. Also, raise your hand if your love Red Dwarf!
17. Ghostbusters
Paige: “I had this reflector, this flat reflector that was some scrap of something that Ned got from Honeywell. I would play Ghostbusters, and I was like: ‘This is a ghost trap.’ It was SO REAL to me. It was this flat reflector, like a bike reflector, and I would like, like, set traps. And I’d be like, ‘Don’t move my ghost trap!’ I would set the ghost trap, and it was like fishing for ghosts. But that was me playing. I would, like, wait. …I don’t know if it worked or not.”
“I’m not sure if this is me imagining this or not, but I’m pretty sure there was a day where I was like, ‘I feel like this trap’s not working.’ But I also feel like I was like, ‘But how would I know? They could be all inside. This is either full — or empty.’”
Vertigo soundtrack
18. The Fall - “Frightened”
“I don’t wanna dance, I wanna go home” — Fri-dund!
19. Goblin - “Zombi” Title Theme
20. Karen Elson - “The Ghost Who Walks”
I think we got this record at Third Man Records when we were playing in Nashville. Sean’s new residence!
Paige: “Karen Elson is tall, beautiful, an interesting musician, AND she has red hair. That’s crazy. What are the chances that you would have all of those things? Talk about a blue moon!”
21. Eartha Kitt - “I Want to Be Evil”
“The only etchings I’ve seen have been behind glass.”
22. Jeffrey Lewis & Los Bolts - “The Pigeon”
“Old skies you flapped through are no more.”
We would like to give a heartfelt hello to Yona Schimmel, mostly out of reach for now. We mourn every missed knish.
23. Scott Walker - “The Seventh Seal”
Paige didn’t know this was a movie, she thought this was just a cool song about a guy playing chess with death.
24. Groovie Ghoulies - “(She’s My) Vampire Girl”
I love that he puts two Bazooka Joe jokes right in the middle of the song.
25. Black Sabbath - “Paranoid”
Sometimes you need priests to summon spirits.
26. Fantasia - “A Night on Bald Mountain”
This is a song that seriously disturbed Paige when she was young. She thought that they did this whole demon thing every single Saturday. For me, it made such an impression that, when each of my young friends and I improvised who we were — “I’m Darth Vader!” “I’m a Cylon Raider!” my take was “I’m Night on Bald Mountain”! And I would open my arms wide and pretend that I was an entire sharp mountaintop transforming into a giant demon with wings, and I would always be the biggest and baddest and scariest creature of all, no matter what they thought. Bald Mountain beats Batman every time.
29. “Jump in the Fire”
Or as I say whenever the occasion warrants: “Jump in the show-AHH!”
28. Rogers & Hammerstein “Pore Jud Is Daid”
29. Barry Adamson - “Something Wicked This Way Comes”
I cannot recall what brought this album to my ears… I suspect it was something I got in my inbox when I worked at The Rocket. This whole album is full of heavy musical grooves and heavy mental movement. It’s a rare pleasure in
30. Screamin’ Jay Hawkins, “I Put a Spell on You”
This is straight-up one of my favorite recordings of anyone ever. And when I eventually saw it enacted in “Stranger than Paradise,” I was blown away by how fundamentally Eastern European it sounds. Every sound he makes with his voice creates new characters.
31. The Shining, “Midnight, the Stars & You”
Happy halloween my friends, I wish we were all at an otherwordly dance together.
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Our Album - Part Two
Catch Me - By JamieMac
A Taron Egerton FanFiction - Our Album Masterlist
youtube
“Wait, you did what?” Liv stared at her friend dumbfoundedly.
“I gave him my number. Stop looking at me like that. You’re the one constantly telling me that I need to ‘grow a pair’ and take chances. I took your advice and made a move.” Hayden picked at her fingernail polish, rolling her eyes at the look on Olivia’s face.
Liv shook her head, smiling slightly, “I gotta say Hayden, I am impressed. I truly didn’t think that you had it in you.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Hayden tossed a pillow in her friend’s direction.
The girls were curled up on the couch of their tiny apartment. It had been several days since the night at the bar, and Hayden had finally managed to work up the nerve to tell Olivia about her phone number hand off. She was a little disappointed that he hadn’t called but if she were honest with herself, she wasn’t that surprised.
“He hasn’t called yet though.”
Liv slide over, placing an arm around Hayden, “He’ll call.”
“How can you be so sure?”
Liv placed her head on Hayden’s shoulder, “Because I saw the way the looked at you that night. He’ll call. He’s probably just been busy or he’s working up the courage to call you.”
“Like a guy like that needs to work on his courage.” Hayden scoffed.
“It’s quite possible that he’s just as insecure about asking girls out as you were about giving him your number. He may be hot, but that doesn’t automatically mean he’s cocky. Take this as a good sign.” Liv reached for the remote, filling the small space with the glow of the television.
Hayden turned the key in the lock, pushing open the heavy door to her apartment. It had been a long day at work and she wanted nothing more than to pour herself a glass of wine, kick off her shoes and curl up with a good movie. Olivia was out of town for the weekend, visiting her parents, so for the rare occasion, Hayden had the place to herself. Her heels lay in a pile by the door. She had a glass in her hand and a wine bottle tucked underneath her arm. She flopped down on the soft cushions, pulling a blanket up over her lap. As she was reaching for the remote, the trill of her cell phone forced a groan from her throat. She set the glass and bottle down on the coffee table, pushing herself up. She dug through her purse, finally pulling the small device from its confines. A text message notification stretched across the screen. It was from a number she didn’t know. She slide her finger across the glass, letting her see the entire message.
Unknown Number: Hey. Sorry bout not texting sooner. Wondering if youre busy tonight?
Hayden: Who is this?
Unknown Number: Oh shit my bad. Its Taron.
Hayden: Oh hey.
Hayden glanced back at her couch. The bottle of wine called to her and her body ached for the softness of the blanket wrapped around her body. But, he’d finally gotten a hold of her. She’d be stupid to pass up on his invitation, right?
Hayden: Actually, you’ve caught me on a good night. Olivia is out of town so I’m in need of some good company.
She sent the text. “Oh god,” She mumbled to herself, slapping her palm against her forehead. “Way to sound desperate Hayden.” She took a deep breath, waiting to see if her reply had warded him off. Her phone quickly chimed back at her, and she released the breath hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
Taron: Awesome! Meet me at the same bar from the other night in about an hour.
Hayden: Okay, see you then.
Hayden: OMG Olivia!! He just texted me.
Hayden shot off the text to her friend as she walked down the hall to her bedroom. Now came the decision on what to wear. “Oh be real Hayden. You’re gonna wear what you always wear.” She pulled a pair of dark skinny jeans from her closest, along with her favorite shirt. It laced in the front, and hung softly off her shoulder. She wiggled into the jeans. She pushed the door to the bathroom open and switched on the light. She stared at herself in the mirror. She looked tired, like it had been a long week. She freshened up her makeup before slipping the soft material of the shirt over her head. Fluffing up her hair, she decided that this would have to be good enough.
Olivia: What are wearing. Take a photo.
Hayden sighed. Using the full length mirror in her bedroom, she snapped a photo and set it off to her friend. As she waited for a reply, she rummaged through her purse, pulling out her ID and credit cards.
Olivia: Wear your black boots. Don’t You Dare Wear Trainers!!
Hayden: Fine.
Hayden searched her closet, the boots apparently missing. She rolled her eyes before making her way across the hall to Olivia’s room. Sure enough, there they were, lying in the middle of her roommate's bedroom floor. Hayden sat on the edge of the bed, pulling the thigh high boots on and zipping them up. She grabbed her favorite black sweater before texting her friend back.
Hayden: Boots are on and I’ve got that little black sweater that you’re always trying to steal from me.
Olivia: Good girl. Now don’t do anything I wouldn’t do and Use Protection!
Hayden: Good god Liv, it’s our first date.
Olivia: LOL and this is why you are my sweet good girl. I really do need to corrupt your some more. Just have fun.
Hayden: I’ll call you tomorrow. Night.
Hayden grabbed her keys as she headed out the door, into the dark night.
He was waiting for her outside the bar. She couldn’t help the smile that formed on her lips. He looked good. A pair of jeans hugged his hips and a long-sleeved Henley wrapped his upper body. He returned her smile. ‘Don’t be shy. Don’t be shy.’ She said to herself silently, over and over again.
“I’m sorry about not coming to pick you up, I hope you won’t hold that against me.” Taron’s husky voice greeted her ears as she neared him.
“No, that’s fine. You look nice.” Hayden could feel her cheeks start to flame up as the words left her mouth.
He chuckled, “I was just going to say the same about you. You’ve got to stop beating me to the compliments.”
She liked the sound of his laugh. Something about it feeled her with a warmth she hadn’t experienced before. “So what are our plans for the night? Are we staying here?”
He shook his head and reached his hand out to her, “No. Are you hungry?”
She stared at his hand, her heart picking up its pace. “Yeah, I’m starving.” With apprehension, she extended her hand towards his. His warm fingers slipped between hers and their palms pressed together.
“Good, there is this great Indian place up the street. Do you like curry?”
She let him lead, enjoying the feel of their hands joined together. “Yeah, I do.”
“Then curry it shall be. You’ll like this place. It’s quiet and there shouldn’t be any interruptions.” He looked over at her, the smile growing.
She couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed so much. Taron was funny. He was sweet and considerate. The staff at the restaurant seemed to know him and treated the pair well. She tasted some of the best food she’d had in awhile, all while listening to Taron tell stories about his days in drama school, about his mother and his younger sisters, about growing up in Wales. She giggled as he thickened his accent, using the Welsh terms with over exaggeration. He talked about his travels to the United States, to China and Korea, and even the long term stint he did down in Hungary. She ate all of it up. She could sit and listen to him talk for the rest of her life. He had so much expression and was so full of life. She’d never met anyone quite like him before and was quickly finding herself falling for the man who sat across from her.
The night ended far too soon and the walk back to her apartment was over before she was ready for it to be.
“Would you like to come in,” She nervously stuttered.
He leaned in, kissing her cheek softly, “I would absolutely love to, but I’m going to pass for tonight.”
Disappointment flowed through her.
“Don’t give me that look. I’m only saying no because I’m leaving town early in the morning. But, I’d love to see you again when I get back.”
She nodded her head, “I’d really like that. I had a great time tonight Taron. Thank you for all of it.” She felt how close he stood next to her. She felt as his fingers slid down her arm. She felt them encircle her wrist and she held her breath as he pulled her closer. His arms wrapped around her shoulders and he pressed their bodies together.
He pressed his lips to her cheek once more, before pulling away.
She shivered as the warmth left her but noticed that his hand was clutched around hers. “Text me while you’re gone?”
He nodded, “Of course I will. I look forward to continuing our conversations and next time we talk about you.”
She blushed again, “I am not near as interesting as you are though.”
“I guess we’ll have to see,” He let her hand drop, taking a step back. “I really do need to go.” He turned around, and began his decent down the stairs, but stopped, “Two weeks from tomorrow… you plan the date this time.”
She smiled and nodded as she watched him disappear from her sight.
Her heart soared as she recounted her date to Olivia. She blushed as she thought about how he looked that night and how his lips had felt against her skin. How holding his hand had felt so right. How she could never tire of listening to him talk.
Olivia sat back, watching as her friend glowed with happiness. “So the date went well?”
Hayden shook her head, “I think I’ve been saying that this whole time. Don’t you ever listen to me?”
Liv laughed, “I’m glad that you had fun. So when are you seeing him again?”
“A couple weeks. He’s out of town until then, but he wants me to plan the next outing.”
“Where out of town?”
Hayden shrugged, “You know, I didn’t ask. I’m assuming it’s for work.”
“Did you ask what he did for work?” Olivia grinned, knowing full well who Taron was and what he did for a living.
“No,” Hayden shook her head, “And I didn’t ask either. Shit, I probably should have asked that.”
“I think that you’ll find out soon enough. So where are you planning on going for your next date?”
#taron egerton#taron egerton imagine#taron egerton fanfiction#taron egerton x oc#egerton#kingsman#taron egerton chapter story#taron
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Para || Call It Comfort
WHO: Beau & Belle WHEN: 1/27/17 WHERE: Beau’s apartment WHAT: After Belle gets into a fight with Augustus everything comes crashing down, and despite the usual worry about hanging out on campus she comes by Beau’s apartment for comfort.
Beau hadn't been expecting company. He'd opted out of going back to the studio tonight, not up to the drive, and when Belle had stopped responding to his texts he'd let himself get comfortable with ice cream in one hand and a book in the other. Staying in wasn't the plan he'd had in mind but right now it wasn't the worst one. The knock startled Beau out of his reverie but what got to him even more was the visibly upset friend on the other side of the door. "Belle? Come in," he murmured, arm going around her as he herded her inside. "What happened, love?!"
Belle: She barely waited until she was over the threshold and the door closed behind her before she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face against his shoulder. Belle hadn't consciously decided that it was okay to let herself fall apart with Beau but once it started she couldn't stop it, her shoulders shaking as she cried quietly. She'd never been a wailer or a loud hiccuping sobs type, more prone to quiet crying jags in the safety of solitude on the rare occasion she needed the release. She let go of him with one hand to rub at her chest, only then realizing that she'd grabbed her inhaler on her way out of her car. She could still probably handle the attack without it. Maybe. Sort of. "I-I can't," she stumbled, shaking her head and closing her eyes tight as she gave up and sucked in the medicine. Hating the lack of control over her own reactions.
Beau didn't ask questions as he bundled Belle up in his arms. God knows he wanted to, wanted to ask exactly who fucking hurt her to have her breaking down in a way he'd never seen before, but he held the questions inside for now. One hand stayed low on her back rubbing small circles, the other hand mimicking the motion at the base of her neck. "Hey, hey, are you -" The second Belle went to inhale Beau was guiding her over to the couch and pulling her onto his lap. Unlike their earlier conversations this was entirely for comfort. His heart was breaking just watching her so upset. "I've got you, baby girl. I've got you. Don't have to talk."
Belle: The medication helped ease the beginnings of hyperventilation but everything still felt tight and condensed, yet falling apart at the same time. Belle focused on his hands rubbing circles on her back and then on his warmth when he wrapped around her on the couch. That, more than anything, helped bring her back down to somewhere near level. The tears kept coming and she didn't even try to stop them, didn't have the energy. "Sorry. I'm sorry." Shaking her head, she coughed and pressed closer against him, slowly letting him calm her down from the worst of it. "I think...I think I'm okay."
Beau smoothed a hand through her hair, combing through it in a way that always made him feel like either purring or going to sleep. There was a song his Da had sung to him as a kid that he hummed a few bars of until Belle seemed to be calming down some. "Don't apologize. Tell me who's getting socked in the jaw, but don't apologize love." A brief kiss was placed to her forehead and both arms wrapped even tighter around her like he could somehow protect her from everything like this. "Or don't talk at all. Whatever you need, I've got you."
Belle: Belle pulled back to look at him, frowning. "What? No one. God, if you're going to lose your job it'll be because you couldn't possibly resist me anymore, not because you punched some jerk in the face." She made the joke half-heartedly, sniffing as she pressed her forehead against his and closed her eyes again. She barely had the energy to hold herself up, let alone feel badly about leaning on her friend so heavily. "Besides, it wasn't just that, and unless you punch...wellness basically everything in my life right now... It's just been a really long week."
Beau 's arms just wrapped tighter, eyes closing when their foreheads met. "Yeah. Yeah, we'll hold off on the violence. Save it for the passion." Even if it was only to not make things worse for Belle. It felt vaguely reminiscent of when she'd been comforting him over the Martin and Malcolm mess, and he just hoped he could soothe her the same way. "Talk to me. You can tell me about all of it, and let me do what I can to help. Please." Not that Beau didn't fully understand how stubborn his friend could be, but he was hoping.
Belle: Crying should have made her feel better, but all it did was made her achy and tired all over. Slowly, she nodded and told him about her issues back home, an abridged version of the politics but mostly the people saying she couldn't do her job from clear across the country playing with paints. She told him, briefly, how she was doubting her whole show concept when, so close to the deadline, she couldn't possibly start fresh. Frankie was supposed to help with that, at least, but what if he couldn't? "He's just a guy I knew back at one of my old boarding schools. Old southern money and he thinks he's better than everyone else. We got into it when we were kids and it's just never been friendly between our families. I didn't know he was going to be here and it threw me off, just tipped me over the edge I guess." The only thing she didn't tell him was that it was harder than she'd thought to not be free to be visibly friends with him. He didn't need that on his mind, and she was certain it was just as difficult on his end too. "He said I was just playing at being an artist. And maybe I am, I don't even know. I have to pick eventually, don't I?"
Beau let her talk as much as she needed to, listening and absorbing and maybe there was only so much that he could do to help Beau but an ear was simple. "First of all, fuck everyone else. I know it's not crazy easy for you to focus on how wrong they are, but it's true. Frankie's going to be exactly what you need and if you need another opinion just hunt me down." The whole time he was talking his hands were running through Belle's hair, working through any tangles and not taking away any of the physical comfort. "The guy sounds like someone worth getting a stiletto to the face," he said, not all that kindly. "Which if you ever do please invite me to the show. Or let me help kick his face in," Beau grumbled, bitter he couldn't do more. "Why should you have to pick? You can be the savvy businesswoman and the crazy talented artist. You're already doing it, a degree is really just going to cement that. I mean, I know everything I'm saying sounds so biased but it's not."
Belle: "You can borrow my shoes but I don't think they'll fit." She laughed quietly, curling up on his lap a little more comfortably and settling her head on his shoulder. She could feel his heartbeat with a hand settled on his chest, slow and steady. "I have to pick. It's a demanding job and I can only delegate so much before I have to be the one to handle things. And don't get me wrong, it's a good job. I'm good at it, I might be able to do important things with it, even, but..." She shook her head again and sighed. "I just don't want to make the wrong decision and only find out later that it should have been something else
Beau let out a genuine laugh, though it was quiet and barely-there, not wanting to disturb the atmosphere in the room. "Might have to find someplace my size just to do some arse-kicking," he said solemnly. "If you do have to pick, though I maintain there's a way to balance the two somehow without it taxing you too much, then you're going to pick artist." There was no doubt in his voice, no hesitation at all. When Beau looked at Belle now versus her when they'd first met this Belle was the one who seemed to really fit. "Hey, hey. Sweets. You're going to let yourself finish classes before you force a decision on yourself, for one. For two you have my vote but you'll have support no matter what route you go. For three, seriously, smack the shite out of anyone trying to pressure you into a decision right now."
Belle: He was so calm and determined that it was difficult to keep arguing with him, even though a part of her still wanted to. She nodded once slowly, then with a little more gusto as he continued, sliding her arms around his middle to hug him tightly. "Thank you, Beau." Wanting badly to kiss him, really kiss him, she only pressed a small chaste kiss to his chest above his heart. "Thank you. I just- god, I'm tired," she let out a shaky laugh, nuzzling against him. "And I shouldnt be here. Bad enough the stupid gossip blog is speculating, the headmistress doesn't need an excuse."
Beau smiled warmly down at Belle and pushed her hair back from her face. The simple gestures were so easy between them, and those were what he was going to cling to until the semester was over. "Anytime, sweets. You know my door's open for you." As much as he wanted to argue with Belle, to assure her that no one would care what she was doing there, he knew that it was risky to assume that. Even if it was bullshit anyone would assume... or not so bullshit in their case, but that was their business not anyone else's. "Let me take you home at least? I can drive your car if you trust me to, get you something warm to drink on the way back and make sure you get settled inside." Almost as an afterthought, "and I can call an Uber back here." Beau's pleading face was strong, the worry taking precedence over anything else.
Belle: Belle nodded her head, agreeing to whatever he thought would be best for her, too drained to really do much deciding for herself at the moment. "That's fine. I have tea at the house I can make." Tracing her fingers along the worry lines on his face, Belle leaned in and kissed him slowly, gently. There was no heat behind it at all, but she needed to have that sort of connection with him. Just for a moment. When she felt like she didn't want to pull away she made herself, tightening her arms around him before pulling herself together and standing. "I'll be okay. I promise. You can drive me home and I'm just going to sleep for a while."
Beau held the kiss as long as Belle allowed it, letting himself take the reassurances and comfort that came through most clearly in her affection. This time he didn't try to prolong contact or tease her in any sense but he did link their arms as he led her to the door. It could be taken as something very innocent and it was dark enough around campus that he wasn't all that worried. "Thank you. Makes me feel better. You're getting a text first thing tomorrow - which might be pretty late for me given my sleep schedule." The tenderness still hadn't left his voice but he'd already deemed the situation worth it as long as she allowed it.
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wednesday 11th january 2017, 20:02
So, this was meant to be a daily journal, but I haven’t written for over a month... sorry! Long story short, the wifi did cut out, just in perfect timing for finals, which literally drained me (I think I must have pulled at least 4 all-nighters in the space of a week... even the regulars at the 24hr café began to recognise me). Then I spent Christmas with Mum in Quebec, went back to London for New Years’ for a week, and now I’m back this side of the Atlantic again. Although I do wish I’d updated on the past few week as it was happening, I hate for diary entries to just be massive catch-ups, so I’m just going to write about the very recent past. (There aren’t any hugely exciting gaps to fill in, don’t worry.)
I flew back on Saturday. It’s weird coming back to Canada this time around. Remembering how last time I made that journey, and travelled what felt like a huge, huge distance, I had absolutely no idea what the next four months held; what the city looked and felt like, where I would live, what school would be like, and I didn’t even know a single person. Now this time, having done a long-haul flight to London a week prior, the journey didn’t seem that arduous, I just whiled the hours away on the plane snoozing and watching Sex and the City, then hopped off (no painfully long immigration to go through), and took two buses to my cosy little apartment and bed. How can somewhere that once felt so unknown feel just like home?
I can’t lie, I’m quite glad to be back. I’m always less sad about that than I think I will be - leaving Mum, leaving London, and knowing it’s going to be for a while. Since this is the longest and the furthest away I’ve ever been, it’s hard to know whether it’s just because I like this place, or because I underestimated my capacity for not getting homesick. Maybe both.
I don’t miss London right now. I don’t think I was there long enough to really get into the swing of things. When I first got back, I hated it. It felt like I was wearing grey-tinted glasses - I know it was especially foggy that day, but in comparison to here it just seemed so dirty, grey, and polluted. I was walking down Holloway Road, thinking, did I really grow up here? I honestly think you just become accustomed to it when you live there. And then when you consider the fact that I pay 1/4 of the rent I would pay living in London, and for a nice place, in a great area, too. I do love London because it’s London and it’s home, but living there at this (financially unstable) stage in your life is becoming harder and harder to justify.
Seeing my friends soon alleviated my sadness though, and I can’t lie, NYE was good. Just got extremely waved with the girls and went to some punk night in Hackney. We thought it might be a risk, punk, but it wasn’t even bad at all, and they were playing other stuff too. They played David Bowie - Let’s Dance when it turned 2017. Hanging out with good friends is the one thing I do miss, and regret not doing more of last week. I had this shitty flu which incapacitated me for a few days (probably that London pollution) and NYE was the only night I actually went out. It’s bittersweet in a way, because I did want to come back here, but then that had to be in the knowledge that I wouldn’t see certain people for a really long time.
Class started this week. I’ve liberally arranged my timetable so that I have Monday and Friday off, and I know I won’t regret that later on. Since last term was quite challenging, I was going to try and only take easier modules this term, but that turned out to be a logical impossibility, especially if I wanted those two days off. I know it sounds like I’m just trying to cut corners, but it’s more like I’m just trying to not make life unnecessarily hard for myself, because I’m finding studying in a foreign language quite hard as it is. It’s a pass/fail year and all modules are weighted equally, so I would get the same amount of credits for an easier module as I would a harder one. But anyway, I just ended up with 2 harder / 2 easier like last term (sorry, boring, who cares, I’m literally just writing this for my own benefit, ok.) The term ahead does look quite difficult, but it could be manageable. I just wish I had a stronger work ethic. As it stands, I literally have the worst work ethic known to mankind.
Last night I went for drinks with three of the Brits and one Canadian. It was Tom’s birthday incidentally, but I don’t think he would have done anything for it if Rory hadn’t otherwise suggested drinks. I do like Rory, but the others... it’s like I said before... I find it hard to have a connection with people with whom the sole basis of our friendship is nationality. As a result, the banter was a little bit dead. We went to the (really corny) Irish pub because Rory’s friend worked there. Who doesn’t work at the Irish pub, to be honest? It’s actually such a small world, this city. The Canadian guy we were with also works there, my ex-flatmate Nick works there and my also-now-ex-flatmate Mary’s friend Tony who I went on one date with and never spoke to again works there. I was praying the latter wouldn’t be there as it would have made for a very awkward encounter... I guess my prayers were answered, thanks, God!
Rors convinced us all to go on this ski trip... I’ve never skied, I’m so so scared o of making an ass out of myself, but apparently people mainly go for the atmosphere. We would all share a chalet and I think it would actually be super fun. It’s also quite cheap (for a ski trip) but my heart rate does increase slightly when I think about my finances over the coming months. I can’t currently get a job on my visa, but I mean to send it off and hopefully have it amended so that I can - but even still, I don’t know how easy it would be to find one, not being perfectly bilingual. With NYC and now possibly this ski trip, my bank account is really not looking pleased with me at the moment. I transferred some of my savings over, but my student loan mainly served to clear my overdraft. This one time, AB said that he wanted to take a trip to Iceland this summer - and I know it was just said in passing and he’s probably forgotten, but obviously it’s stuck in my mind since. If he was still up for going, and I couldn’t afford it, that would be a serious bummer. And if he offered to help me pay or something, that would just be awkward! He’s not my sugar daddy! Anyway, I’m getting way ahead of myself here. We shall even have to see about the ski trip, as Agata might not even be able to go since it’s in Vermont, and unlike us Brits, she can’t get a visa waiver to travel to the States. I don’t think I would go if she doesn’t.
In other news, we have a new flatmate, Josie, who has replaced Mary. It’s hard to gauge too much this early on, but the more time I spend with her, the more I begin to miss Mary. I mean, for example, she just wandered into my room to ask me to wash up my dishes in the sink, from a few hours ago. A) Has she heard of knocking? B) Is she my mother? C) Not all of those dishes were mine, in fact, some of them were hers from dinner last night, and D) Does it even matter, does it need to be done this instant?! Mary would never do that!! The thing about the old set-up before Josie is that we were all on the same wavelength. I could sense it from the first time I met those guys. There was kind of a mutual understanding that we were all as ‘messy’ as one another (which isn’t even that messy, by the way.) I knew from the initial skype interview with Josie that she wasn’t quite on our wavelength, and it’s already beginning to show in subtle ways. This is why I much preferred the other flatmate candidate, Emma, but the votes were in Josie’s favour. I just hope it doesn’t culminate in one big argument or something one day.
To be fair, I suppose you could do a lot worse for a flatmate. I should be thankful that she’s clean and tidy and doesn’t like, play the drums or something. She also invited me to her friend’s gig tomorrow, so I guess that’s nice. It’s a brother and sister duo, though. Um, no comment.
P.S. By the way, in case anyone cared (they definitely didn’t), I’m not pregnant. I had two massive spells of bleeding over Christmas (I guess you could call it the festive period lmao - sorry, worst joke ever...) I swear I always think I’m pregnant, maybe subconsciously I love the drama. But what the fuck is the mini pill doing to my hormones, that I can just have random, really long, really heavy periods? It makes me want to go back to the combined, so that I can regulate my periods - but then I couldn’t smoke. Or ideally, stop loading my body up with artificial hormones altogether, but then I would just have to have regular periods, and use a condom on the rare occasion that I get laid. Is there any ideal form of birth control? Someone help!
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Traffic Trouble
“One more second of this, and I swear I will murder everyone in this car. That is no joke,” Mal threatened, clenching the steering wheel with her hands until her knuckles were turning even whiter than usual.
“I can’t help it, he started it!” Carlos whined as he tried to fend off Jay’s freshly-licked finger from his ear. Jay just laughed evilly as he leaned over Ben to reach Carlos.
“I don’t give a crap who started it, I’m gonna finish it if you two don’t zip it!” the purple-haired girl turned and pointed angrily at Jay and Carlos, her eyes glowing green.
They hesitantly brought their antics to a stop and turned to look out their windows grumpily.
Currently, Mal was forced to drive five nutcases to the mall for a day of “fun.” Which, naturally, was all Evie’s fault.
Evie herself was sitting in the passenger seat nearby Mal, mostly keeping her eyes on her hands or upon the buildings outside of her window. Occasionally she’d try to initiate a normal, civil conversation with Mal and the boys, but they’d end up arguing or teasing each other relentlessly about something, which immediately made Mal want to slap them. If they managed to accidentally insult Evie, she’d start yelling at them and Mal would start yelling and her head just hurt from all of this drama.
Ben was quite possibly the best to deal with of all of them. He hadn’t said a word. Of course, he was the one that was asleep in the backseat between Beevis and Butthead.
Mal edged the car forward as a car in front of her moved incrementally. Mal groaned, shaking her head and sitting her head on the steering wheel in exasperation.
“Why don’t we play a game?” Evie suddenly suggested, and Mal turned her head over on the flat surface her face was currently pressed against to look at the bluenette.
“I’ve got a great one. Let’s try the silent game,” Mal told her, a sickeningly sweet smile gracing her features.
“What about one that somebody could actually win?” Evie gently recommended as she awkwardly glanced at the boys, trying to subtly hint to Mal that she was trying to distract them. Mal huffed, shaking her head a bit in response.
“Ooh, I got one! I Spy,” Evie grinned widely, looking at Mal with unbridled excitement. Mal just rolled her eyes and turned her head back to the traffic in front of her with her eyes barely peeking above the steering wheel.
“Okay, I spy with my pus-filled eye…”
“Kill me now.”
“Something blue,” Evie finished, a falsely cheery smile upon her face as she tried to be positive. Mal just sighed heavily, rolling her eyes in an ultimate display of her disinterest.
“The sky.”
“What?! How’d you guess? Okay, Mal, your turn to spy!” Evie encouraged, shaking Mal’s shoulder enthusiastically.
“Just got my learner’s permit. This is definitely not how I imagined one of my first drives going,” Mal complained and moved to lean back against her seat restlessly. “Jay, why didn’t you drive, again?” she questioned, angling her head slightly in Jay’s direction.
“I thought you could use the practice. I didn’t expect things to be like this!” he defended himself as he gestured at the mess of cars all around them.
“Mal, what do you spy?” Evie suddenly piped up, presumably trying to distract Mal from a potential revival of the arguing.
“I spy with my pus-filled eye something that makes entirely too much noise. Hint: it’s sitting beside me,” Mal sarcastically told her. Evie pursed her lips in a pout that resembled that of a little toddler.
“I was just trying to cheer you guys up,” Evie complained, giving her a sad expression with her soft brown eyes adding to the sullen look. Mal mostly ignored her, placing her hands on the wheel again as she moved up in the lineup of vehicles once again.
They moved just enough to get her hopes up and as soon as she started feeling some semblance of optimism surrounding the situation, the ugly, little baby blue car immediately stopped.
Mal was strongly feeling the urge to do things to the people ahead of her that certainly were not considered anywhere near socially acceptable.
“Any other suggestions for a game?” Jay questioned suddenly. Mal rolled her eyes and groaned.
“Not you, too!”
“Hey, I’m bored, so what the heck?” Mal watched him shrug in the backseat in her rearview mirror.
“Ooh, I got another one! What about truth or dare?” Evie grinned, the promise of another game lifting her spirits considerably. At least there was three people that hadn’t agreed to their whole truth or dare idea.
Yes, she was counting an asleep Ben in her vote.
“That sounds cool,” Carlos chose to rise to the occasion and Mal growled lowly, knowing she was officially outnumbered.
“Jay, you pick first,” Evie pointed at him with a considerably more enthralled expression. He leaned toward the two of them, placing his elbows on the console between the two girls.
“Okay… Truth or dare……. Mal?”
Honestly, was everyone out to make her the happiest horse’s rear end this side of the nuthouse?
“Dare,” Mal conceded finally, deciding to go along with their ridiculous game just long enough to get some well-deserved revenge. Evie was pitifully thrilled, and Jay even looked a little pathetically pleased with her sudden compliance.
“I dare you to paint Evie’s red lipstick all over your face like warpaint,” Jay challenged, falling back into his seat with a wide grin.
Mal groaned and opened up her palm toward Evie. The bluenette carefully placed the lipstick in the green-eyed girl’s hand.
She removed the cap and wiped a long trail from her hairline extending to her chin and crossing through her left eyebrow. Carlos starting whooping as soon as she put the red tip to her skin, but she kept a dead serious expression on her face the entire time she was applying it.
Mal repeated the process on the other side and then ran a strand from the center of her hairline, down the bridge of her nose, through the middle of her lips, and finally down the center of her chin where she connected the lines she had made.
Turning her face to Evie, she offered the lipstick to her.
Evie’s eyes widened as she covered her mouth with a hand in a desperate attempt to hold back the laughter, finally having a head-on view of the disastrously-smeared lipstick as she took the container from Mal.
“Laugh it up, Princess, you won’t think it’s funny for much longer. Truth or dare, E?” Mal asked, smiling wickedly at the bewildered look on Evie’s face.
“Umm…” Evie thought for a moment, and after a little while, she laughed. “Oh, gosh, there’s no good option.”
“I can pick one for you.”
“That’s okay. I think I’m going to go with… dare.”
“Aww, man. I had all kinds of fun little things to ask you. Like the things I hear you saying to yourself when you’re staring in the mirror for a bit too long-ow!” Evie slapped her arm and glared at her.
“Shut up!” she harshly whispered, narrowing her eyes and glancing back at the boys.
“What does she say?” Carlos questioned eagerly, leaning up close.
“No idea. Why don’t you ask her if she ever makes the mistake of picking truth?” Mal suggested, throwing a positively evil smile in Evie’s direction. She noticed that the cars were beginning to move forward once again, and she lightly let off the brake so she’d coast behind them in succession.
To her intense disappointment, they once again stopped more quickly than she would’ve liked.
“But anyways, Evie, I dare you to let Carlos give you a wet willy. And you can’t jerk away immediately. You have to stay still for five seconds,” Mal announced to the taller girl sitting nearby her.
Evie’s jaw fell slack and Carlos eagerly jumped at the opportunity to give an unresisting Evie a wet willy. He immediately proceeded to lick his finger and lean toward her.
Mal almost laughed when she saw Evie practically turn inside out at the feel of the wet, spit-covered finger in her ear. When he twisted his finger a bit, she was sure Evie was going to scream.
After precisely five seconds, Evie jumped all the way over against her window in an attempt to get away as she wiped furiously at her ear. Mal couldn’t help but chuckle at her, even though Mal knew that she was definitely not enjoying herself in any way.
“Ugh! You are so gross, Mal!” After she was finally satisfied with her ear’s dryness, Evie pointed in Carlos’ direction. “Carlos, truth or dare?”
“Truth. I’ve got nothing to hide,” he told them, shrugging his shoulders. Evie thought for a moment and then her face lit up with an evil grin that reminded Mal of the good old days as she fondly referred to them.
“What is your favorite food?” Carlos flushed red and looked away immediately.
But Evie was relentless.
“Hey, don’t lie about it. I know the answer and if you do lie, I’ll tell everybody myself.” After a few moments more of hesitation and silence, Carlos eventually spoke up.
“I like salad with a cherry and just a dash of ranch dressing,” Carlos mumbled. Jay laughed and Mal chuckled a bit.
“Seriously? That’s such a girly food to like, man,” Jay teased, punching his arm playfully, but Mal could tell he was mostly joking.
“Aww, but it’s sweet! I can appreciate a guy with more refined tastes!” Evie smiled kindly, reaching over the back of her seat and ruffling his hair. Carlos waved her hand away and he moved backwards to evade her.
“It’s certainly better than that raw meat you like to eat,” Evie added disgustedly, looking at Jay.
“It’s called medium rare. And it’s the best stuff you’ll ever put in your mouth,” Jay explained, grinning slyly as Evie almost seemed like she would gag.
Mal took in a breath, about to say something, and was immediately interrupted when the car behind her honked offensively loudly.
She turned and looked behind her, glaring through the back window behind Ben’s head.
“Woah, woah, woah, Mal, don’t react. Don’t react,” Jay warned, and Evie placed a comforting hand on the girl’s arm. Her eyes burning a bright flame of green, Mal was strongly resisting the urge that screamed at her to leap out of the car and fight whoever was in the car behind her.
“Don’t worry, you guys, I got just the thing!”
Then, before Mal could actually act on her overwhelming impulses, Carlos had popped some CD in the car and there was some kind of weird music starting to play. Mal turned her head slowly to face the disc slot as an almost reggae-sounding music emitted from it.
“What… Is that?”
“Don’t worry, be happy,” Carlos sang, starting to dance in the backseat. After a moment of hesitation, Evie nodded her head a bit, contemplating the sound of the music.
“It’s really not too bad. It’s not my kind of music, but it’s got a good message,” Evie admitted as she began to move along with the beat. Mal’s jaw stiffened in irritation and she repositioned her hands on the steering wheel, looking around as she considered a certain idea that had just popped into her head.
“How far does this traffic stretch anyway?” Jay questioned, raising up a little in his seat and trying to look above all the cars in front of them. Mal decided that she’d follow through on her idea.
“I don’t know, but I’m about to find out,” the purple-haired girl informed them, unbuckling and opening the door.
There were varying cries of protest as she exited the car. Mal hurried to the back of the vehicle and stepped up onto the back of it, clambering to the roof.
Once she had firmly gained her footing on the top of the car, she stood up slowly, looking ahead. The sight that she beheld before her filled her with such relief and irritation that she almost screamed aloud in a pure expression of her confused emotions.
They were so extremely close to the entrance to the mall’s parking lot, but so far. The traffic was barely moving, and she was really wishing that she still had her spell book.
She quickly spied the cause of the traffic jam. Some dumb person dressed in a gorilla suit advertising for a nearby store was making a scene in front of all the cars, keeping them from progressing any further in the road.
With a groan of pure irritation, Mal hopped down from the roof of the car and landed on the ground gracefully. She opened the door quickly and slid into her seat, re-buckling.
“What in the world were you doing?!” Evie exclaimed, her eyes wide as she gaped at the shorter girl. Mal huffed and raised an eyebrow as she began slamming the horn as hard as she could.
Mal honked it several times, ensuring that everyone had heard the car and then she rolled down the window, leaning out of it.
“Listen up, Monkey Boy! Get your butt out of the road or I’m coming to get you out of it myself!” Mal shouted loudly. She slid back into her seat and waited for a moment, expectant of the change that was surely about to occur with the traffic situation.
After a moment, the traffic began to edge forward, speeding up and Mal gently pressed the gas pedal accordingly. No one in the car spoke a word.
It wasn’t very long at all before they arrived in the parking lot and Mal selected a parking space carefully. After all, parking was a bit of a challenge since she was new to driving.
As soon as they were stopped, Mal let out a calming breath, looking at everyone with a wide smirk.
“That was… incredible,” Evie chuckled, smiling a bit as she gazed at Mal with an admiring expression.
“Certainly not something I’ve ever seen,” Carlos added, laughing and glancing at Jay with a grin.
“I thought you’d lost your mind,” Jay admitted with a shrug.
Suddenly, Ben stirred, opening his eyes and waking with a start. He looked at all the faces around him with a dazed expression and then locked his gaze upon Mal’s. Mal could practically see the gears turning in his head as he gazed at her, seeming completely puzzled.
“Why is your face painted red?” Ben finally asked.
And poor Ben never got a response because of all the laughter that immediately ensued.
#traffic#ben#jay#carlos#evie#mal#descendants#disney#family#familial#sisters#sister#sis#bro#brothers#Bal#siblings#sibling#friends#friendship#best friends#besties#best friend#humor#cute#sweet#fluff
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Three Utterly Unconnected Books With Gay Protagonists
by Wardog
Thursday, 13 January 2011
Wardog fails at themes.
By accident, rather than design, I just read three young adult books with gay protagonists. They're not really thematically related at all, nor do they have anything in common, but I found the coincidence harmonious enough that I've decided to review them in a bunch regardless.
Boy Meets Boy
I picked this up from a discount bookshop, remembering absolutely nothing about it except that someone might have told me it was good once, well, either this or a different completely book, which is the sort of thought process you find yourself having when you're unleashed in a space where everything is £2. Things you pick up in discount bookshops because there's no reason not to, rather than because you had a set reason for wanting to read them, can be surprisingly delightful. They can also be unbearably dreadful but I'm glad to say that Boy Meets Boy fell into the former category.
It's basically a coming-of-age tale, and a love story, so simply and straightforwardly told that it's almost banal – the message here seems to be that the experience of being a teenager is universal, and that sexuality shouldn't be something that marks difference between people who might otherwise find points of connection. Because of this, and setting elements I'll address later, it subtly addresses issues of acceptance and tolerance. The book itself is a vehicle for them, but mainly it tells a story about a recognisable teenager undergoing recognisable teenage experiences who just happens to be gay. Its very existence, in a way, emphasises the normality of gay experience, while leaving the book at liberty to simply a story in an entertaining way. To be honest, though, the story of Boy Meets Boy didn't interest me all that much, although I did care enough about the protagonist (Paul) to want a happy ending for him. But then it's self-unconsciously unremarkable – as the title itself suggests it will be – and charming enough to carry its own deliberate ordinariness. One of the things I did very much like about Boy Meets Boy is that it successfully creates a transitory space (being a teenager at school) that both owns its own transitiveness and yet doesn't undermine the importance of events and experiences within that space. So, for example, we are never expected to believe that Paul's love for Noah is Forever, but we still recognise its value, and even savour it because there is something uniquely delicate, perfect and intense about that kind of teenage romance.
Boy Meets Boy inhabits its adolescence almost to a fault – it's told in the first person, by Paul, so we are rather trapped in his often rather limited and flawed perspective. It struck me as being so realistically teenage that I found it rather stifling sometimes – his arty whimsicality strays perilously close to pretension. But as close as I came to rolling my eyes on occasion, self-irony is something adults impose on the excesses of adolescence and Paul's earnestness is genuinely endearing. Part of the problem with the book being so grounded in Paul was the less flamboyant characters don't really come through as clearly as they need to – Paul has an interesting circle of friends, including his bisexual ex, Kyle, who is working through his own confusion, and Tony, also gay, who is struggling with the restrictions of his parent's religion. Noah, Paul's love interest, never really develops his own identity – yes he is charming, like Paul, and whimsical, like Paul, and arty, like Paul, and somewhat vulnerable from a relationship gone wrong, like Paul, but although I believed in Paul's attraction to him, I found it rather difficult to believe in Noah as a person in his own right. But, then, I think Boy Meets Boy is more interested in love in general, than the specifics what makes a particular relationship work, so there's an extent to which it doesn't really matter.
The thing I loved most about Boy Meets Boy, however, was the setting. Because I didn't quite realise what I was reading, the fact that it is essentially set in a utopia of complete equality, where all sexualities are accepted, came at me completely unexpectedly. Basically the text presents you – in a very delightful way – with an increasing level of tolerance, up to the point at which it becomes absurdly unrealistic and then you feel deeply sad that what should surely be a basic level of human decency comes across as ludicrous idealism. It's never really “explained” in the text why this small town in America has embraced so wholeheartedly the tolerance it should not be unreasonable to expect from society as a whole but equally that shouldn't require explanation. This setting comes absolutely shining out the book, and some of my favourite passages are when it allows for things like this:
It was with Joni's help that I became the first openly gay class president in the history of Ms Farquar's third grade class. Joni was my campaign manager. She was the person who came up with my campaign slogan: VOTE FOR ME... I'M GAY! […] My biggest opponent was (I'm sorry to say) Ted Halpern. His first slogan was VOTE FOR ME … I'M NOT GAY, which only made him seem dull. Then he tried DON'T FOR HIM... HE'S GAY, which was pretty stupid, because nobody likes to be told who they can (or can't) vote for. Finally, in the days leading up to the election he resorted to DON'T VOTE FOR THE FAG. Hello? Joni threatened to beat him up but I knew he'd play right into our hands. When the election was held he was left with the rather tiny lint-head vote while I carried the girl vote, the open-minded guy vote, the third-grade closet case vote and the Ted-hater vote. It was a total blowout and when it was all over Toni beat Ted up anyway. The next day at lunch, Cody O'Brien traded me two Twinkies for a box of raisins – clearly an equal trade. The next day I gave him three Yodels for a Fig Newton. This was my first flirtation.
Or when the universal tolerance of the setting is playfully juxtaposed against the general intolerance of high school society:
Infinite Darlene doesn't have it easy. Being both star quarterback and homecoming queen has its conflicts. And sometimes it's hard for her to fit in. The other drag queens in our school rarely sit with her at lunch; they say she doesn't take good enough care of her nails and that she looks a little too buff in a tank top. The football players are a little more accepting, although there was a spot of trouble last year when Chuck, the second-string quarterback fell in love with her and got depressed when she said he wasn't her type.
It seems to be telling us we have enough to worry about it without also stressing about other people's sexualities. I'm also just glad there's a bisexual, and a real bisexual, in the book. And although his confusion ends up causes a bit of conflict, it is sympathetically presented.
There were a few aspects of Boy Meets Boy that fell a little flat for me – Noah, as I have said, and I was a bit sad that the story of the straight best friend is essentially one of loss. Joni gets into a relationship with an apparently rather controlling guy but we never really get any into her side of things (because Paul doesn't have any) and Paul is never quite able to reconcile with her. For a book about love, in all its forms, this is fair enough, since love and loss travel hand in hand, but it does mean that the one straight person in the entire book abandons her friends the moment she gets into a relationship. This is even more problematic because Boy Meets Boy is dependent on archetypes, rather than characters – what Boy Meets Boy, hopefully unintentionally, seems to be saying through arc is that gay-straight friendships are impossible to sustain, especially since the friendships he maintains, and the new ones he forms over the course of the book are all with gay people. The other thing that made me a little uncomfortable was the fact that Gay Tony's parents, who are unable to accept his sexuality, are highly religious. Of course lots of people who are religious have trouble with teh gay but it always seems to end up being a short-cut for blind homophobia. To Levithan's credit they are not obviously evil, and genuinely love their son, but just as there are problems in your only straight person fucking off into an unhealthy relationship there are problems in having your only homophobes be people of religious conviction.
Minor issues aside, Boy Meets Boy is basically an adorable piece of fluff. It is a hug in a book and I really enjoyed it.
Hero
I feel really bad about Hero because I honestly expected to love it, but as it turned out I just didn't get on with it. Thom Creed's father used to be a super hero but following a National Disaster (the collapse of the Wilton Towers while fighting off an alien, apparently) he's an outcast, a single father trying to raise his son. Thom is gay, and starting to manifest a superpower, two things he knows his father can't stand, and both of which are aspects of himself he feels he has to hide from his father for lose his love and respect. Unexpectedly, Thomas receives an invitation to try out for the League, the official syndicate superheroes, and finds himself on probation with a bunch of other aspiring superheroes.
One of the first books I reviewed for Ferretbrain back in the day was
Soon I Will Become Invincible
, the first superhero “novel” I'd ever read, which I ended up rather enjoying and is told from the perspective of a supervillain. I remember that Jamie and I had a rather tangled discussion – enacted from a perspective of mutual confusion – about the very concept of a superhero NOVEL.Soon I Will Become Invincible was clever and stylish enough that the inherent problems of the form Jamie articulated in his comments didn't become more than a minor issue. Unfortunately, they bugged the crap out of me in Hero. I felt that the narrative was constantly straining against itself – it wanted, and needed, to be a comic. Or about something else. Equally, the tropes of the genre, which are a vital part of any superhero story, are primarily visual, and largely present to bridge the gap between the images and the words. When there are only words these tropes come across as clumsy and lacking in subtlety – instead of bold, dramatic and exciting.
There is a lot to find likeable about Hero, really. The being-gay arc is nicely paralleled by the being-a-superhero arc; in fact as far as metaphors go it works pretty well, feeding into similar feelings of difference, and a pressure to conceal aspects of your identity. I also thought Thom was very well portrayed, in all his confusion, his foolishness and his charm. The scene in which he first meets Goran is particularly effective. Thom works for a mentoring programme for encouraging literacy:
I turned round and saw one of my new students, about my age, standing behind me. “You scared me.” I shut the file cabinet. “What are you doing in there?” He had a thick accent, so his family must have only moved here recently. One of the many English-as-a-second students who came to the centre to learn English … I always felt bad for the ESL students. I couldn't imagine what I'd do if I had to take chemistry in Bratislava... “Oh,” I was just looking for something for us to read tonight,” I said, slowly enunciating each word. “Do you like books?” He stared at me. He didn't blink. “See, that's the great thing about learning English. You get to read some cool books and stuff, so it's not all about boring homework.” He still didn't blink. “Books and stuff?” He repeated the words like he was spitting out poison. “Yeah,” I said. “It's pretty fun when you get into it. Reading and all.” Phyllis hurried back in the room... “I see you've met Goran,” she said. “Yes.” I smiled. “I have the feeling he's going to pick up English in no time.” Phyllis looked at Goran to see if I was serious and then looked back at me. “Thom, Goran founded the literacy programme for the older kids here two years ago. I asked him to show you the ropes tonight.” […] Goran, arms folded, stared at me with contempt. Sometimes I am the world's biggest loser.
I did, in fact, really like Thom. He's unflinchingly presented with all his flaws and vulnerabilities, right up to and including his mushy fantasies about Uberman, the most famous superhero in the league. He's nicely complex too, so he's always a very real person, not a stereotype. I liked the fact his fantasies about Uberman are as romantic as well as sexual (heh, being gay is not ONLY about sex), that Thom is quite athletic and his with Goran friendship develops over the course of basketball games, and that his first kiss is something he shares with a stranger because he's basically gone out to pull, and that it's okay that he does this. He doesn't come to any harm as a consequence, he doesn't have a horrible time, and it isn't presented as anything other than the act of a hurt and bewildered teenager.
What didn't work for me at all were the superhero aspects of the text. Although they function well enough on a metaphorical level, in practice I found them banal, overwrought and unsatisfying. It's possible I just missed the point. There are plenty of comic-related in-jokes and references – Uberman is clearly Captain Planet, Justice is Superman by way of Dr Manhatten, and his alienness and loneliness is rather affecting in the few scenes he dominates – and it's amusing enough, I suppose, but the dark-man-dark aspects don't sit very well with the more comedic ones. For example, Thom has a team-mate called Typhoid Larry and I think we are expected to care about him as a person, but Moore doesn't put in the effort necessary to make him anything more than a one-dimensional joke about hilariously unpleasant superpowers. Miss Scarlet, equally, is an angry bitch because her superpowers have horrendous side-effects but she's also incredibly boring. It's a shame because the style and complexity with which Moore depicts Thom, his father and, strangely enough, Justice is completely lacking in the supporting cast. They little more than dull, sub-Watchman stereotypes who obligingly die when it is time for us to feel sadness.
I initially liked the fact that Thom's superpower (healing) is a second-order power – it is far from traditionally glamorous and it is also not the sort of power we might instinctively associate with a man. It also ties in nicely to Thom's development from a self-conscious, self-absorbed teenager to an empathetic adult who cares about the people around him. Unfortunately it soon turns out that super-healing also comes bundled with aspects of super-blowing shit up – so something that could have been genuinely interesting and a little bit subversive basically becomes standard superhero fare. Blah.
The other inherent problem with the superhero format is that it's embedded in short-term, dramatic gestures. Thom's father is another example from the “excellent” spectrum of Moore's characterisation – as a disgraced superhero, the guy clearly has issues, and I thought the complicated, messy and frustrating relationship he has with his son was depicted with sympathy and subtlety. He manages to be an admirable man, a good father and a terrible father all at once; he is also, of course, homophobic but he never becomes a strawman bigot. Thom's father eventually comes to accept Thom's homosexuality but only directly before plot requires him to make the traditional superhero self-sacrifice. This was all very moving but I actually thought it was a cop-out. It is probably pretty easy to come to terms with your own internalised homophobia if you're about to die. Acceptance and tolerance are long-term prospects. They are not about short-term gestures. I would have been much happier if Thom's father had shown his commitment to these values through living with his son, not making an "i wuv you" speech and conveniently dying. I know this probably sounds perilously close to counter-factual criticism but since these issues are a major theme of the novel, it is frankly cheap to offer resolve them via trope.
There's a lot of really good stuff in Hero, and I did enjoy it when I wasn't being frustrated with it. But it really is its own worst enemy and the superhero trappings interfere with the story I was interested in reading.
Ash
This book is so utterly different to the preceding books that makes even more of a mockery of this review collection than it is already. Oh well. Ash is basically a Cinderella-retelling. It's charming but I found it rather insubstantial, but then there's also an extent to which fairy-tales are supposed to be insubstantial. The writing is elegant but in many ways it's a very suppressed book – Ash, is after all, subsumed in grief and despair, following the death of her father, and spends most of the book essentially trying to escape her own life. Left at the mercy of her stepmother she is not horrifically abused, but she is reduced to servant status and her wants and needs become completely irrelevant to those around. As a consequence of this, she is a rather difficult character to find in the text – she is, essentially, suicidal for most of the book - and the overall effect makes reading Ash is somewhat alienating. I did, however, appreciate how anti-dramatic is is. With such a depressing take on the material, it would have been easy to turn it hysterical - but, bleak though it is at times, Ash is very controlled, almost too controlled, since we come so close to losing hold on our central character.
It was not quite what I was expecting in a fairytale retelling but it did grow on me. And though it may be subdued, it is thankfully not self-consciously dark-man-dark about it. There's quite a sophisticated world underpinning this simple story, although it's incredibly lightly sketched, it's less world-building than world-suggesting, which I actually rather enjoyed. The magical elements of the story become entwined with Ash's desire to escape, rendering them both sources of solace and threat. Ash yearns to become part of the fairy world, a world not meant for humans, because the human world offers her nothing, and she sees the annihilation of herself as being a release from pain and grief and loneliness. Her fairy godmother is actually a rather sinister fairy called Sidhean and although her attraction to him, and his world, is understandable, and he is certainly fascinating, it is also never portrayed as anything but unhealthy.
Ash's “handsome prince” is not, however, a prince; it is actually the King's huntress, Kaisa. There is a handsome prince in the story, and Ash does end up dancing with him, but he's delightfully incidental. The romance between Ash and Kaisa unfolds beautifully – the fact they are both women is neither here nor there. Ash is very much framed as a love story, not a coming out out story. Being gay is very deliberately Not An Issue. I liked Kaisa very much, she is strong and sensitive, and clever and, quite frankly, she could have me any day. Unlike Sidhean, and, initially, Ash she is very much a part of the natural, human world. As her friendship with Ash develops, it is significant that one of her first acts is to teach Ash to ride, drawing her back towards the world she wants to leave. For all Kaisa's strength and love though, Ash must ultimately choose to rescue herself.
As I said above, Ash was not quite what I was expecting – a fairytale about a depressed girl who must choose whether to reject fairytales and live in the real world. I appreciated it more, in retrospect, since it is rather a slow and quiet read. On the other hand, the relationship between Ash and Kaisa is awfully romantic. And yay for lesbians.Themes:
Books
,
Sci-fi / Fantasy
,
Young Adult / Children
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Frank
at 04:09 on 2011-01-14
Hero
is likable. It was easy to escape into without thinking too hard on any possible reveals though the main villain was obvious from the get go. Moore's Aquaman family is sickly funny, and his Superman's (Justice's) superolfactory is a cool twist. What was way unlikable and absolutely did not work in the story was the writing because suddenly I found myself counting how many times Moore used 'suddenly' in the text and was suddenly struck plum dumb after reading it twice in the same paragraph.
I couldn't read it again. But I would see the movie or mini-series if it ever came about.
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Robinson L
at 03:02 on 2011-02-19Oh dear,
Perry Moore, author of Hero has died
, and at a ridiculously young age, too. That's sad.
I might read his book sometime, or one of the others. They all sound moderately-interesting-but-not-essential-reading. (I might read
Boy Meets Boy
just for the writing style, if it's all like that.)
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Wardog
at 11:20 on 2011-02-19Oh no - I feel kind of low key guilty now, for not liking his book.
I'm kind of with Frank actually - I didn't really fixate on it but the writing style was incredibly pedestrian.
Yeah, they were all likeable books - not amazing and essential but definitely a pleasant way to pass an afternoon. In order of liking for me it would be: Boy Meets Boy (I believe he's written a
book for adults
recently, I'm curious), Ash, Hero.
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valse de la lune
at 07:17 on 2011-05-02I'm plodding through
Ash
slowly. The writing style's actually easy to read, but I'm having trouble with how anvilicious the author is; your review does suggest it gets better, or at least subtler.
Lol at a fairy named "Sidhean," though.
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valse de la lune
at 11:56 on 2011-05-02Okay I speed-read through it like a thing that is speedy, but what exactly did Ash do to get out of the bargain with Sidhean? "I'll be yours for one night and the curse will be broken because if you REALLY love me you'll set me freeeee" makes sense... how?
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Wardog
at 19:21 on 2011-05-03I guess I just saw that as typical fairy-tale logic, and didn't really worry about it. Although truthfully I wasn't paying much attention by then, just hoping the Huntress was okay :).
Ash was one of those books I liked more retrospect than while I was reading it - Ash's frozen despair doesn't exactly make it easy or lively to get through.
I think there's a second book out now (Huntress?) and I'm almost tempted. I didn't feel massively passionate about Ash, but I'm starved enough for decent fiction with non-straight female characters in it that I'm happy to go along for the ride.
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valse de la lune
at 19:53 on 2011-05-03
Huntress
is certainly on my to-read list, but before I get to it I'll probably read a bunch of others first. For what it's worth, here are books I've read or which I'll soon read that include gay female characters:
Disturbed By Her Song
, Tanith Lee (nominated for the LAMBDA award, even, though I'm still surprised because Lee's straight and I thought their rule was "author must be LGBT")
Daughters of a Coral Dawn
, Katherine V Forrest
The Female Man
, Joanna Russ
Child Garden
, Geoff Ryman (author is a gay man)
Fire Logic
and
Water Logic
, Laurie J. Marks
And obviously, some of Catherynne M. Valente's stuff (author being herself bi, I believe) particularly
Palimpsest
and
The Orphan's Tales
if you haven't read those already.
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Wardog
at 21:42 on 2011-05-03I find Lee pretty variable, to be honest, although I haven't read that one (adds to list). Some of her stuff I really really love and some of it, well, not so much. Valente is one of those authors I've been meaning to get round to for ages, but I've read (and liked) quite a bit of her critical stuff so I'm terrified I won't like her fiction.
The only examples I can remember off the top of my head are Kushner's The Privilege of the Sword in which the heroine is maybe a lesbian if you squint a bit and cross your fingers, the dreaded oh god no Green, and, well shit, that's it.
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valse de la lune
at 06:54 on 2011-05-04I am... not fond of Kushner; couldn't finish
Swordpoint
and what I know of her collab with Sarah Monette (whose books I'm not fond of either)--
A Companion to Wolves--is that it involves gay people and an awful lot of rape. Can't we have fantasy featuring gay people that's not so rapey all the time? But I agree with you on Lee; she has written things I loved, and things that made me go "she... she can't write." Valente is one of those authors I've been meaning to get round to for ages, but I've read (and liked) quite a bit of her critical stuff so I'm terrified I won't like her fiction. Palimpsest isn't her best, IMO, though a lot of people may disagree--it's got iffy sexual politics (i.e. consent issues)--but the Orphan's Tales duology is almost universally liked. The Female Man opens beautifully, with the female narrator introducing herself and talking about her mother, her other mother, and how she loves her wife Vittoria. Aw hell yeah.
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Wardog
at 18:18 on 2011-05-04I actually quite liked Swordspoint, and to a lesser extent Priviledge. But then I think it was the first of that "type" of book I read. I might be less forgiving nowadays. I thought A Companion to Wolves was Monette and Bear (or are Kushner and Bear the same person, I really have no clue about incestuous author cults), and I read halfway through it, slightly bewildered by both the rapey and, even more objectionable (not really), the *boring*. Also I thought what was going to be an interesting examination of the mythic and the construction of masculinity seemed to just boil into who goes on the bottom ... so... yeah.
I've been trying to control my book buying habits, in that I need to read (and review) what I've already got ... but ... but ... temptation...
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valse de la lune
at 18:31 on 2011-05-04Oh shit, my bad. You're right, it is Monette and Bear.
These writers are all the same to me okay.
Not coincidentally I also don't have much patience for Bear, and that's not just because of her part in Racefail 09: I read
Ink and Steel
and kept going wryyyyyy.
(Oscar Wilde said the only way to deal with temptation is to give in to it. :))
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Onwards and upwards
As the 2018-19 football season kicks off, we ask a number of people connected with Millwall FC – from fans to a member of the board – for their thoughts on the club’s past, present and future
As told to Luke G Williams
Michael Avery from the Millwall Supporters’ Club assesses how Millwall did on the pitch last season, and their prospects for next season “Where do we begin? After promotion from League One and a start where Lady Luck seemed to be flirting with our opposition, it seemed like we may be looking over our shoulders for the 2017-18 season. The trap door was just behind us creaking, but there were teams who were destined for the hangman’s noose before us.
“Our season changed on January 20, 2018 at Elland Road against Leeds United. After months of away fixtures where we would cruelly have points we deserved snatched from us, our boys in navy finally faced their demons and got the three points. The 4-3 away win was the catalyst we needed, and we never looked back.
“The trap door disappeared out of sight and we were now looking up. Away wins kept coming and coming and before we knew it we were talking about unbeaten streaks, daring to dream. The team many fancied for the drop now looked like they would leave the Championship via promotion to the Premier League.
Lady Luck was on our arm, but unfortunately for The Den faithful, she was seduced by a team from west London and left us for the soon-to-be promoted Fulham.
“Last season was fantastic, and we would love to replicate it, but we have to be realistic. I don’t think Millwall will go down, instead I think we will be comfortably mid-table.” Mark Baxter, a Lions fan for 50 years, explains what the club means to him and his favourite Millwall memories
“I’m Camberwell born and bred and so that made it a choice of Millwall or Crystal Palace for my local club. My dad was a Millwall fan and I’ve stuck with them ever since. Millwall isn’t a glorious, glamour club; it’s a club that’s handed on to you. You either stick with it or go looking elsewhere for trophies.
“Most of my mates growing up supported Chelsea or West Ham or Spurs, so I stood out as a Millwall fan, but supporting them meant I could go and watch live football locally, which I loved.
“The amount of trouble down there in the 70s was ridiculous so I stopped going for a bit. My dad said he would give me a slap if I went! I came back to Millwall around the late 80s and I’ve had a season ticket pretty much ever since.
“Millwall is in my blood. For Millwall fans, I think the club is part of their being. We don’t win much in the way of trophies and the ground is quite a hard place to get to, but if it’s in your blood and your heart you keep going. You’re addicted to it.
“And then you get those great moments – there was the goal Gary Alexander scored at Wembley, which was one of the best goals ever scored at Wembley by any player for any club.
“That was particularly special because I know Gary, he’s a local boy, my wife grew up knowing his family. To see someone you know score a goal for the club you support at Wembley was quite a moment.
“Plus the FA Cup final at Cardiff in 2004, of course. I never thought I’d see that day. I went in a minibus with all my mates and my family, including my mum who was in her 70s then. That was quite a day, a really big occasion.”
Micky Simpson, current “fan on the board” and founder of the Association of Millwall Supporters, on his role and the development saga surrounding Millwall’s stadium
“The easiest way to describe my role is that it’s a fan liaison role. It’s about giving the fans a voice within the club. I take fans’ concerns to the relevant people, including to the board if needed, depending on the level of concern.
“These concerns might be about ticket allocation, transport issues or police dealings with the fans. Or I might take ideas to the board. There’s no job description set in stone as such, but I do pretty much anything and everything I can to support the fan base.
“Then there’s other things I do. Just yesterday I was chatting to a guy in a caff, a Millwall fan, near the ground and I was able to take him into the stadium to meet [former player] Jimmy Carter and take some pictures pitchside. Meeting and talking to this Millwall legend pretty much made a 50-odd year old man cry with happiness.
“I try to use my role to do good and make sure there is a connection and communication between the fans and the club. I use Twitter and various forums to do that. The role works and I think it shows a lot of forward thinking on the part of the club to have this role.
“I just hope that with a new mayor and cabinet in Lewisham that we can now move forward as a club with the development of the stadium. It’s hard to believe that a club as big as Millwall weren’t originally placed at the centre of the regeneration plans for the area, rather than treated like a nasty boy in the corner. That never would have happened to Arsenal or Manchester United.
“If the media were to look at Millwall without blinkers on, they would see that we are a very strong community club with our heart in the local working-class community.”
Peter Garston, former “fan on the board” and still a member of Millwall’s board of directors, on why he believes the club’s community work deserves more attention
“I am a lifelong Millwall fan – my first game was in 1969. For me it’s more than a football team; coming from a dysfunctional family as a child, Millwall was my first real family, to the extent that I named both of my children after players, Harry after Harry Cripps and Alfie after Alfie Wood.
“In 2005 I was voted on to the board of directors of Millwall as “FOTB” by my fellow fans, an honour I will never be able to repay. In 2016 I decided to stand down and was honoured that chairman John Berylson asked me to remain on the board as a director. He also invited me to become a director of Millwall Holdings. Then last year I was offered the position of trustee on the Millwall Community Scheme – I still hold all these positions.
“I have followed Millwall through many ups and downs; I was a travelling fan during the 70s and 80s and that experience, along with the board positions I hold, has enabled me to have an all-round overview of the club.
“I have seen many things during my time – both good and bad – but the one thing I can never understand is the media’s inability to report on the excellent work we do in the community week in week out – work we have been doing for many years.
“With over-50s clubs and Irish clubs to name but a few, we are truly all-inclusive. As fans every year we also raise considerable sums for every cause you can mention. Recently we raised thousands for the young girl Isla Caton who was suffering with a rare form of cancer and whose family were all die-hard West Ham fans, while our contribution to Help for Heroes annually is immense. I just wish there was more balanced reporting to reflect this.”
Ayse Smith, editor of Millwall fanzine The Lion Roars on the club’s current prospects on and off the pitch
“The Lion Roars magazine is now in its 30th year of publication, and hopefully we will have an amazing season – on and off the pitch – to report on.
“Last season we were one of the favourites to be relegated, which I thought was a bit harsh, and a bit silly really, as newly promoted teams normally do really well in their new league as they are still flying high with momentum from the previous season. Despite that, we exceeded even our own expectations.
“This coming season is going to be tough though. The team is pretty much the same as last year, and although they have united amazingly, expectations are going to be higher, from us fans at least. We are again one of the favourites to be relegated, and I hope this spurs the players on to prove our critics wrong.
“The current progress of the compulsory purchase order (CPO) and redevelopment plans on Millwall’s land is unclear at the moment. The council have not said that they will not apply for a CPO again, and the fact the newly elected mayor Damien Egan and MP Janet Daby were both on the council cabinet and voted in favour of the CPO in the first place, is quite alarming to me.
“Drawing up plans and architects’ fees are hugely expensive, and although Millwall have already paid for these in their bid to redevelop the land themselves, I don’t think they can afford to spend any more on it unless the council gives us the go-ahead to redevelop the land to provide the much-needed homes that Lewisham borough needs.”
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