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nanoa1foryou · 2 years ago

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Full Soundi translations because I have nothing better to do:

Original Text by Aki Nuopponen

*Additional information and context by me is marked like this

Big talk, dreams and actions

Blind Channel intends to be among the best rock bands, and they dare to say it. Eurovision was one milestone and now the sextet is ready to harness all available avenues to fulfill their real dreams. The next move was to make an album that looks completely like the band.

Blind Channel has been busy since the placed sixth at Eurovision in may of 2021. Behind them is dozens of shows across The US and Europe. Ahead of them lies a fully packed summer festival season in Finland, after which the band returns to tour across Europe. The year ends and culminates in a massive show in The Helsinki Ice Hall.

Niko Moilanen and Joel Hokka are traveling from Ludwigsburg, Germany, to Milano, Italy, when the video call opens. In front of me are two musicians, who don't even try to be rock stars. They simply are. As they have always wanted to be.

The singers have reached their goal. Or at least a few milestones towards their goals. Sipping beer from massive pints, the singers demeanor shows that they are doing what they love most.

An hour later the duo breaks out in laughter as they note that they should start giving motivational courses, since there seems to be no end to the encouraging motivational speeches.

An hour of speaking with an excited Niko and Joel leaves behind a simultaneously tired and energized feeling.

In the following is a lesson on how pride and humility, aiming for the whole world, holding on to artistic freedom, and responsibility and living happily in the moment aren't all mutually exclusive.

Acknowledge your end goal!

After performing to 183 million people in Rotterdam eurovision finale, came the dawn of the next day. The finale was the climax of the journey that began with Uuden Musiikin Kilpailu, but for Blind Channel the grind was still ahead of them.

"I have very few ideas about what happened in the days following the finale, because after one source of tension released, things started happening ten times more frequently," Niko chuckles and raises his pint.

"We just laughed at everything because we were so tired and... a little drunk, if we're being honest, when per milles were nearing two. There we were making the Joonas Nordman Show and everything else!"

"It was a wild moment, when we returned to Helsinki Airport, and there was a massive amount of people there waiting, camera flashes everywhere and somehow it was the turning point, when the life before that was gone," Joel echoes his singer friend.

"The next evening I had made it all the way to Oulu with my brother and his girlfriend to some deck and in a moment an autograph line formed next to it, as if I was some national hero or something. that was unreal."

Niko says that the key to making it through the whirlpool of attention is that the same friends have been making Blind Channel since 2013, and through the years they have learned and grown.

"We were studying, even at an early age, from all sorts of biographies the most common potholes for musicians, but at the same time we knew ahead that this kind of "breakthrough over night" you can't be prepared for," the singer reminices.

"I have thought that if all of this had happened for example back then, when we were a two year old band we would have been pretty quickly in Seiska's* headlines, and messed up the whole thing," Joel admits.

*Seiska is a Finnish tabloid known for publishing celebrity gossip among other things

Joel continues by saying, that Blind Channel's humble goal is to be the world's biggest rock band and that they want to enjoy the achievements one at a time, but that they aren't going to stay basking in the glory of anything for too long.

"I'm won't lie. We are young and on these tour that we've been on we've partied like crazy. so much so that right now it feels like we'll never need to party again. But we still know our limits," Niko states.

"It comes with the age. We want to celebrate this but still withing the limits of reason. We have a rule that the shows need to always go well. Absolutely perfectly. Every single time. No exceptions. Blind Channel can't afford to play a bad show. We can't afford to make a bad song. This means that we have to stay sharp at right moments."

"Even though Blind Channel is our childhood dream, we've also excepted that this is also business. You have to be able to draw the starting line, the destination, and all sorts of milestones. We're constantly peering into the crystal ball."

Use every tool available!

Unlike the case for many other Eurovision participants, for Blind Channel the Finale or even victory weren't the ultimate goal. The competition was for the band one part of a bigger plan.

"Our starting point was quite different from the others as well, because we weren't big Eurovision fans, and we'd never dreamed of getting to represent just for the sake of performing at Eurovision," Niko opens up.

"We approached the whole thing like it's the biggest publicity stunt in the world. There is nothing like it. If we'd gone to New York or Los Angeles to any of the biggest promoters with the intention, that our song gets played to 200 million people in one evening, none of them could have done it."

"Instead we first made a really fucking good song. Then we went on to perform it to two million people in Finland. Then in Europe to 200 million. It was the perfect program while we couldn't play gigs."

"Dark Side is still streaming 70 000 a day and the new singles are reaching to tens of thousands," Joel continues.

"So with Eurovision we created the rise, the starting point, with which we are now trying to move forward, but it most certainly is not enough on it's own. Eurovision was one tool. We had no intention of staying here basking. The next step is more important."

"All of this that we've now done. This success in Finland and even Europe. This is all just the beginning. From here there's still a long way to where we want to be. We're not in Wembley yet," Niko adds.

Joel says that he can't completely understand bands, that complain when even a small breakthrough doesn't seem to be coming, and at the same time they're avoiding using all the tules available to them, because they're clinging too much on to the way things used to be.

"If you want a band to be big today... like really big, you can't afford to say 'Ew fuck, what Tiktok! It's a teenagers thing'," the singer chuckles while imitating a rock style dude.

"That right now you say to Tiktok or Snapchat or even all of social media 'no', is the same as refusing MTV in the 80's, not making a MySpace account in the 2000's or kicked up a fuss about streaming in the 2010's."

"You can keep larping the 90's in the Majava bar in Kallio and reminisce there about the way your idols did things, when everything was 'better', but if you want to live big in this day and age, you have to take Tiktok and all the others under your control.

Dare to demand!

A kind of icing on the cake of Blind Channel's confidence, was how the soon to be published fourth album and it's predecessor heard even on Eurovision, Dark Side, were produced and recorded: All the strings were kept tightly under the bands control.

"When we were writing up the contract with Century Media, we demanded that it had a part about artistic freedom," Joel reveals.

"It was nerve wracking as fuck to send the big contract one more time and demand that we decide about the music and the label about the practicalities regarding the release of it, but damn, it went through we just needed to dare to demand it."

"That is also what we did. Joonas Parkkonen mixed the album and then it was mastered in Berlin. We didn't stretch ourselves to the technical aspects of it. But we trusted that especially after Aleksi (Kaunisvesi, DJ) joined the band that we have the expertise and view on what is our thing with this music right now."

"Dark side was the first song, that we made like this. It was our purgatory. When it went through as well as it has, we got more confidence for it, like damn, we're at least making the album ourselves. Happens what happens!"

Niko laughs as he says, that he knows many still suspects Blind Channel to be a label plant.

"The only thing I can say to that is, that I wish we were!" The singer laughs and raises his glass.

"We would have a lot less work to do, if someone else wrote the music videos, told us in the studio what needs to be done and how and got us our show outfits ready, but no... This all, everything that you're seeing, it's exclusively Blind Channel. Our group's doings."

the duo shares a meaningful look, when Niko starts telling, that their new album's song Glory for The Greedy, contains Blind Channel's history's "saltiest verse", and the singer is not wrong.

Everyone hasn't always believed in Blind Channel, and the band let's it be heard, but the singers voices hold equal amounts of respect as they tell that they haven't reached this far on their own.

"We collected to the song's verse messages from the representatives of different labels, that we got from these music business professionals for years before we broke through," Niko says with a grin.

"The story is like it was pulled straight from some music business textbook now. The same people have first told us 'You'll never be anything' or ' We can consider it if you ditch the other singer' or 'Switch the language to Finnish and take a Finnish rapper as a feature', but now after the song contest it's all 'We always believed in you!'"

"Of course we don't mention in the song who has said what. That would be a bit too mean. And besides, a lot of the doubts have only increased the need to prove ourselves and made us try even harder."

"When we started this whole thing it took us a really long time to find the people who want to do this kind of thing in a big way instead of just 'seeing what becomes of it'," Joel says.

"We found that from Ranka Kustannus. Riku Pääkkönen got the completely deserved full hype up from us at Emma Gaala. We have to also remember our first manager Toni Törrönen. And our current manager Antti Eriksson. Here we have the kind of people who weren't buying our souls with a wad of cash in their hands. They have supported what we want to be."

Everything is possible!

Lifestyles of the Sick & Dangerous, Blind Channel's fourth album, will be release 14 months after Eurovision.

This isn't a coincidence either. According to Niko and Joel, they didn't want to rush the album, nor did they want to force themselves to take advantage of the rise that Eurovision had given them by releasing something half-assed. The album got to be developed at it's own pace. And to become the addition of Blind Channel's journey.

"We had written a lot of songs even before the whole Rotterdam mess, and before we got the record deal. It's what we do. We're always making songs. Right now we're playing new demos on our tour buss all the time," Niko shares.

"When Eurovision was done, we went back to focusing on what kind of album we want to make. Which songs best represent what we are currently and what our album still needs, so it'll be a killer unit."

"The album is not chronological with the songs, but the journey that began from Dark Side can be heard on it," Joel describes

"Suddenly we became Finnish celebrities. Got an international record deal. Went to the biggest music competition in the world. Metal Hammer and Kerrang are writing about us. There were a lot of emotions to handle for songs."

Niko continues by saying, that in a way the album tells about everything between the bands complete obscurity and international fame, becoming the addition of everything the band has gone through thus far.

"The album's outro song is Thank You for The Pain, and in it you'll hear a spoken section, that is from Blind Channel's very first interview from 2013. We sampled it into the ending and in it you'll hear a few kids speaking with such thick Oulu dialect that it makes no sense, but it highlights just how far we've already gotten."

New pints get carried to the table and soon on the other side of the screen rings out loud laughter, before the singers quickly turn serious again, as they return to how the album could have 11 different tracks if they felt like it.

"We wouldn't be here without Linkin Park, but we never wanted to be 'the Finnish Linkin Park' but we wanted to be Blind Channel from the beginning, even if the aforementioned road would have been easier," Joel sums up with a smile.

"Yeah, we could have put together 10 more dark side style songs, but we wanted to use all of our band members strengths, dj doing the samples, two different kinds of singers, that naturally brings this kind of nonsensical genre mixing, where nu metal, surfer rock, machine pop or anything else can be one."

"We wanted to write a really versatile album. Without thinking about genres or anything like that. And to say on the album exactly what we have to say. With the risk that some songs will push people away because they're so different. we trust that maybe those different songs sink in bit by bit, and through it people might find different kinds of music."

The band hasn't given up on it's traditions either: The nature of the opening track is one, which they hold on to.

"At the time we formed this tradition, that the title of the opening track has something to do with weapons and on the first album it was Bullet, on the second Trigger, and on the third Gun, but now on the fourth album... Opinions?" Niko asks, nudging in Joel's direction.

"The idea is still the same. We want to knock out the listener right away with the first song. Now we put a rap beat into the song and for a moment I got to live out my Travis Scott dream. Merciless gangster rap before the guitars and other band instruments are put in there. Let's take the assumptions away right at the start and say that on this album anything can happen."

Think big!

Joel and Niko seem like even at this moment they know what Blind Channel has to do next to reach their goals. Equally as well they know what kinds of things the six member band has to avoid.

"It's important to keep your feet on the ground and respect your fans, people and each other. We're six guys, but this BC-group includes twelve people. That is a community, where everyone has to pull their weight," Niko says.

"A lot of people are a part of this, and there is big money moving around," Joel continues and then says, that drugs, illegalities and getting pissed off at your own band mates are not a part of Blind Channel's plans.

"Us two are the singers. We are going to avoid the 'singer syndrome', and we're not going to start thinking that we are some unbeatable frontmen who define this band. This band is a team of twelve."

"We've always become a better band. A better team. We aimed for those playoffs a long time ago, and now we're there, because we've done our own thing and believed in it. Anyone can do this, if they want it enough. We're still on our journey to the finals to find out, what we can become."

The singers cheers and in the end Niko throws out a challenge to all the young bands and people in general, so that people who dream big would dare to aim truly and mercilessly at what they really want.

"Think big! It's not easy but when you work hard you can actually achieve things. Make your dreams come true even if it's through a million failures. Even if everything doesn't work out, you'll know you gave it your all."

*Feedback is greatly appreciated <3

#And it's fucking done finally #blind channel #niko moilanen #niko vilhelm #joel hokka #olli matela #tommi lalli #aleksi kaunisvesi #alex mattson #translation #translations

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roger1na · 6 years ago

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careful ch1 - john deacon x reader

summary: you are a ballet student at the royal ballet academy. To pay for your tuition, you work part-time at the celebrity gossip magazine, Seven. One fateful day you’re sent to interview a band on the rise, Queen, post-concert. When you’ve got your material and the goofy band is set to leave, you learn that John Deacon may be the sweetest gentleman to ever grace this planet.

words: 2.5k+

warnings: swearing

author’s note: this is my entry for @bensroger 3k fic challenge! congrats <3. the promptline is bolded at the end. (and just as a little nod to me, the magazine Seven doesn’t exist in real life, at least i don’t think so. i took it from a horrible gossip magazine in finland, Seiska, who’s known for paying celebrities to get into scandals so they can write about it.)

[ch1] [ch2] [ch3] [ch4] [ch5] [ch6] [ch7] [ch8]

chapter one

The venue was filled with people. Screaming girls and guys who wanted to play it cool in their leather jackets and long hair. Every atom in your body was begging you to leave, to not get caught and melded into these people, but you pressed on, earning dirty looks from some hardcore fans. You held on tightly to the camera your magazine, Seven, had lent you for the evening, adrenaline making your hands tremble ever so slightly.

You were almost at the front of the stage, unscrewing the lens cap slowly, painted nails shimmering in the show lights.

“Thank you all for coming out tonight, we really appreciate it darlings,” the booming voice of tonight’s band’s frontman echoed through the concert hall and was met with loud cheering. Freddie Mercury sure could handle a crowd. You peered at him through your camera, lights catching his eyes and shadows strengthening his jawline and snapped a picture.

Queen was worth every bit of praise ever given to them by fans and undeserving of the snobby critique from so called experts in music. And they could really put on a show. It was a real perk of part-time magazine work. Free (but, to be fair, very lousy) tickets to noisy concert halls and backstage passes and enough confidence and status to elbow your way to the front of the crowd.

You’d never seen Queen live before. Of course you knew their music, who didn’t, but their tickets were either costly or the shows were at bad times. Your training schedule didn’t allow too much time for late nights and parties. You only had one day off a week and even that was spent stretching and practicing, making sure your joints didn’t ruin themselves with the amount of ballet you danced. You began wondering if you should’ve come sooner. Everything was mesmerising.

When your favourite song of theirs, Liar, started playing the bassist moved very close to where you were standing. His brown curls bounced as he skillfully played his solo, occasionally bringing his index and middle finger to his lips and licking them to keep them running more smoothly on the strings.

You turned on your camera flash to catch the metallic glint of his bass strings and he saw the light in the corner of his eyes and turned to you, small smile playing on his lips. He locked eyes with you for what seemed like forever before turning back to his instrument, licking his lips slyly. A small blush tingled at your cheeks.

Disappointment washed over you as they finished the final note of their last song, Nevermore. “You’ve been a lovely crowd, London! Thank you very much!” Freddie bowed on the stage, absorbing the cheers of the crowd. Somebody in the crowd was crying. Each member had sweat glistening on their cheeks and they were breathing heavily but still managed to look perfectly put together.

They disappeared backstage and you had to rush to beat the crowd. With your backstage pass you slipped past security, waving your Seven worker ID and made your way quickly to the dressing rooms. Though you had tried you best to beat the groupies and one-time fans, the amount of people yelling and waving autographs and chattering excitedly was almost sickening. It was worse backstage. Your heart jumped to your throat and your chest tightened. “I fucking hate this job,” you mumbled.

You’d spent the day rehearsing as an understudy for the main role in Swan Lake, then you had to rush to the office to grab your camera and audio recorder before taking the tube to a small concert hall in east London. You were tired, anxious and now had to fight for an interview with the band.

A wave of dizziness and nausea cut through you and sent you walking funny, looking like a drunk. You set your hand against the wall to gain your balance, bile rising to your throat. The nausea came in waves, each one stronger than the last, sending you weak at the knees. When was the last time you ate? You skipped lunch to rehearse extra, then didn’t you have that meeting? You drank coffee? Black as usual. And then? It’d been hours. You steadied yourself, breathing slowly.

”It’s going to be ok,” you told yourself. ”Not going to make a fool of myself. Not today.”

And with the balance of a newborn calf you hobbled ahead in the crowd, using your elbows rather rudely to get to the front. Once you were faced with an underpaid security guard, you coughed to get his attention.

”Excuse me, I have a backstage pass, can I get through?”

His face scrunched as if to say I’m-totally-tough-and-qualified but his nervous nod told you he was just a buff college student.

”Thanks,” you say without looking him in the eyes and quickly slipping past.

The dressing room door was adorably adorned with a star with the band name Queen on it, just like in some movie. You supposed the movies must’ve gotten their inspiration somewhere. You knocked determinedly, hearing clamour inside as loud voices fought over who should answer.

”Listen, John, you’re closest to the door, it makes sense!” An annoyed voice ushered someone inside.

”Freddie, you’re the frontman, I don’t want a 16 year-old drooling here again, you can turn them away,” a quieter voice replied.

You had to roll your eyes, before replying. ”Listen, I’m not a drooling teenager. I’m here to interview you, Y/N Y/N/L, from Seven.”

A triumphant laugh was heard before the lock turned. A sheepish bassist gave you a soft smile, hiding mostly under his hair. You returned the smile, before stumbling in, legs still shaky. ”You okay?” He grabbed your arm to steady you.

”Yes,” you nodded. ”It’s just been a long day.” He looked wary to let you stand on your own.

The band in all their glory, looked like silly kids, with their brightly coloured dressing gowns and long hair and little snickers and inside jokes that ran around the room quickly, sometimes only through eye-contact.

”Y/L/N? Don’t think I’ve heard of you before,” Freddie spun around gleefully in his chair.

”Well, I don’t usually write the articles or get credit. I only work part-time, getting the material, then a more popular writer takes the credit so we get more buys of the paper,”

”Scandalous,” Freddie laughed, before gesturing to the grey and slightly dumpy sofa across from him. ”Sit, I want to get this over with while there’s still hours left of the night.”

Slowly, the rest of the band gathered around you. Brian May with his poodle hair and soft laugh, Roger Taylor with his high-pitched singing voice but incredibly scratchy speaking voice and the shy and quiet John Deacon, who was the most attentive, laughing at just the right moments.

You set your little audio recorder on the sofa before beginning. ”So, I had to fight my way through quite the crowd of- John, how’d you put it? Drooling teenagers. How’s that feel?”

The extrovert in you shined as you chatted with the band, each of them giving you half-assed but hilarious answers.

”Oh you know, it’s our scene. This is usual.” Freddie flicked his wrist bashfully.

”I have to battle fangirls when I step outside all the time,” John quipped back and you threw your head back laughing. Queen was making it big, but was yet to hit that sweet goldmine of number one songs. And they were yet to have too much of an international career.

The interview continued well but soon the boys grew tired of talking about themselves and were arguing about meaningless things together. With that you shut your little recorder and took one last photo which showed them deep in discussion before coughing loudly. ”I think that’s it, Queen. I got some good material. Thanks!”

”I’m up for a drink now. Talking so long parched me.” Taylor got up, fluffing his hair slightly. The band hummed in unison, getting up and dusting themselves off.

You flipped through the notes you’d taken to help the final writer get an idea of the scene as the dressing room emptied. John stayed behind, packing his bass carefully into the its case.

“Not the man for partying, are you?” You leaned closer to him on the couch.

“Ha, well not today. It was a long show.”

The voices of the band got further and further away. You stayed sitting for just a little longer, intently watching John in thought. You thought it wasn’t possible to look flattering in bright white lights but clearly he was here to prove you wrong. He glanced at you when he felt eyes on him and you both blushed before turning away.

“Right,” you snapped your notebook shut. “I’ll get going.” You maneuvered yourself off the couch and managed a few steps ahead before the world went black.

It was disorienting to find yourself on the floor with no memory of how you got there. Your ears were ringing and the light stung your eyes. “Oh my god, are you okay?”

He was leaning over you, long hair tickling your cheeks, eyes wide with concern.

“Mmwh happened?” You started to mumble, throat dry.

John sighed, relieved before helping you sit up against the couch. “You must’ve blacked out.”

“Lovely,” you said sarcastically, rubbing your head.

“Should I be concerned?” He whispered to you, sitting down awfully close. You felt your heart rate pick up. He smelt like a generic brand of after-shave mixed with something fruity, like a cocktail.

“Not at all,” you slowly rose to a more upright position. “I just haven’t eaten in a while,”

“That’s not very good.” He chuckled. “I’ll be a little concerned, just in case.”

You managed a feeble laugh and looked down at your hands. “I’ll be ok.”

“Yeah, once you’ve gotten home and eaten. You must be so overworked. I can drive you home.”

You set your face in your hands, embarrassed, and sighed. “God, y’know what I told myself today? That I wasn’t going to make a fool of myself. And here I am, not only being a fool but being a bother.”

“You’re no bother. I would’ve had to drive out of here anyway. Now I’ve got company.” He gently pried your hands away from your face.

“You’re too sweet.”

You were both very close, hands on top of each other on the floor. When he looked your way you could feel his short, shallow breaths on your face, as if he was afraid to break the moment. “It’s nothing.” And yet, in those few memorable seconds, it was everything.

“Right then,” he coughed and stood up. “Can you walk?”

“Yeah, thanks,” you bit your lip and tucked stray strands of hair behind your ear. He helped you stand and you leaned on him for support.

“I feel like a right idiot,” you started.

“Don’t fuss about it.”

Meekly, let him help you into the van, his long fingers wrapping entirely around your wrist. When you were safely strapped in, you looked up at him. He was leaning on the roof of the van and you felt his warm breath on your cheeks. ”Thank you,” you managed to breathe out.

He looked away, red spreading on his face. ”You’re welcome.”

He got into the driver’s seat swiftly, turning the keys in the ignition. The purr of the engine lulled you softly into a trance-like state of only taking notice of the cars passing you by. John kept stealing glances at you. You were so breathtaking. Even when you weren’t talking, he was sure you’d captivate a room with you clever eyes and the left corner of your mouth that twitched upward when you were suppressing a laugh.

“I never asked any questions about you,” he finally spoke up as he turned to you. “I spent all that interview talking about myself and never once wondered about you.”

“Well, that’s good. I wasn’t the one being interviewed.” You shrugged, a bit dazed but still paying attention.

“Can I ask about you now?”

You tried to not let a blush rise on your cheeks as you replied. “Sure.”

“You mentioned you only work part-time at Seven. Why’s that?”

“I’m a dancer student at the Royal Ballet Academy. But it’s costly and celebrity gossip pays surprisingly well.”

It was like talking to an old friend. Conversation flowed easily. He asked about your career and you talked about his music. John felt like he’d been quiet for forever and finally it was all spilling out. The fame he’d taken on after auditioning for fun as a student. The anxiety surrounding meeting fans who screamed his name.

You finally park on the corner of the street you lived on. A line of rusty cars and motorcycles with chipped paint made it very hard to park the van. You let yourself yawn, your mouth opening wide, like a lions. Not only had you been practically starved all day, it’d also been way too long since you slept. John helped you up out of the van.

“Are you tired?” He whispered. The world was so quiet at 1am in a dusty corner of London.

”A bit yeah,” you grinned. ”I think I’ll eat something and then crash. Boom, out like a light.” You stumbled a bit in your step.

He noticed your weak attempts at walking. ”Here,” suddenly he was leaning in front of you, as if trying to give you a piggyback ride. ”Hop on, I’ll carry you the rest of the way.”

”What?” You flushed.

”You heard me. I think you’re about two steps from collapsing again.”

With an embarrassed huff, you clambered onto his back, your skirt riding up your thighs as he hoisted you up. You buried your face into his hair as he slowly made his way over to the apartment. ”Sorry the parking’s so shitty and you have to drag me like this.” You whispered, very close to his ear.

”Don’t worry,”

”But seriously. Bet you, this isn’t how you saw the night going.”

”No, but this is better. You’re good company.”

”Shush,” you laughed.

At your front door he set you down and let you settle your skirt before turning around. His hair was ruffled and his cheeks flushed but he grinned like an idiot. ”We’re your castle, I suppose,”

You managed a small laugh before a yawn took over. “Tonight’s been great, thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

“Alright then.” You paused, wanting to stay with him for longer. “Goodnight, John.”

“Goodnight, Y/N. And good luck. With your dancing.”

“Thanks.”

You swallowed hard, and with a small wave you turned around and unlocked your door looking one final time at this strange bassist, with his bouncy curls and soft smile. You paused a bit before calling out.

“John?”

He looked up, eyes glinting in the orange glow of the streetlights. “Yes?”

“Will I see you again?”

He grinned. “I hope so,” he got into his car and rolled down the window. “It’s a small world, after all.”

You laughed, leaning against the doorframe. “Alright then, John Deacon. I guess I’ll be seeing you.”

And with that, he drove off, music playing down the street through his open window. You felt your heart skip as you closed the door to your apartment.

#john deacon #deacy #deaky #john deacon x reader #deacy x reader #deaky x reader #joe mazzello #freddie mercury #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #abbys3kfics #im actually rlly proud of this bc #i kind of struggled with how they interacted #but once i got the hang of it i think it’s good #warnings for overuse of the word blush and flush #but to be fair #who wouldn’t flush with john deacon present?#my writing #careful - jd

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rajshahicba · 3 years ago

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Sanna Marin: Finland's PM sorry for clubbing after Covid contact

Finland's Prime Minister Sanna Marin has apologised for going clubbing after coming into close contact with a Covid-19 case.Sanna Marin went on a night out in Helsinki on Saturday, hours after her foreign minister had tested positive.She was initially told she did not need to isolate because she had been fully vaccinated, but later missed a text that advised her to do so.

Critics questioned her judgement for not isolating until testing negative.

The Social Democratic prime minister, 36, said the text message that advised her to avoid social contact was sent to her work phone, which she had left at home.When she saw the text on Sunday, she urgently sought a Covid test and the result came back negative.At first Ms Marin defended her actions, arguing that she had followed the advice of her secretary of state, who informed her about the Covid exposure.But in a Facebook post on Monday, Ms Marin said she should have double-checked the guidance and used better judgement.

"I am very sorry for not understanding that I needed to do that," she wrote.PROFILE: Who is Sanna Marin?

Under Finland's Covid guidelines, anyone who is double-jabbed does not need to isolate if they come into contact with a positive case. But the guidelines do advise people to voluntarily avoid social contact if they are waiting for access to a Covid test.

Separate guidelines for government ministers and employees also recommend limiting social contact immediately after exposure, according to Finland's Helsingin Sanomat newspaper.

Speaking to reporters in parliament on Wednesday, Ms Marin said she had not been provided with this guidance. She said she took personal responsibility for the lack of information and again apologised for her actions.

Ms Marin has faced criticism since a gossip magazine published photos of the prime minister attending a Helsinki nightclub with friends on Saturday.The Seiska magazine said it spoke to witnesses who saw her dancing at the Butchers club, where she stayed until 04:00.

Prime Minister of Finland Sanna Marin attends a press conference

Ms Marin said she had initially been advised not to isolate

Opposition politicians suggested Ms Marin should have set a good example by isolating voluntarily instead of going clubbing. Mia Laiho, an MP for the National Coalition Party, said Ms Marin had been "irresponsible".

Ms Marin became the world's youngest prime minister when she elected to lead a centre-left coalition with four other parties in 2019.

Finland has fared better than most of its European allies during the Covid pandemic, recording about 196,000 cases and 1,384 deaths.

But since September, infections have been creeping ever higher, with increases of more than 1,000 a day for weeks.

The country has also recorded eight cases of the new Omicron variant, which experts fear may be more transmissible and evade some immunity to Covid.

#judgement

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newstimecab · 3 years ago

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Finland's Prime Minister Sanna Marin

Finland's Prime Minister Sanna Marin has apologised for going clubbing after coming into close contact with a Covid-19 case.

Sanna Marin went on a night out in Helsinki on Saturday, hours after her foreign minister had tested positive.

She was initially told she did not need to isolate because she had been fully vaccinated, but later missed a text that advised her to do so.

Critics questioned her judgement for not isolating until testing negative.

The Social Democratic prime minister, 36, said the text message that advised her to avoid social contact was sent to her work phone, which she had left at home.

When she saw the text on Sunday, she urgently sought a Covid test and the result came back negative.

At first Ms Marin defended her actions, arguing that she had followed the advice of her secretary of state, who informed her about the Covid exposure.

But in a Facebook post on Monday, Ms Marin said she should have double-checked the guidance and used better judgement.

"I am very sorry for not understanding that I needed to do that," she wrote.

PROFILE: Who is Sanna Marin? Under Finland's Covid guidelines, anyone who is double-jabbed does not need to isolate if they come into contact with a positive case.

But the guidelines do advise people to voluntarily avoid social contact if they are waiting for access to a Covid test.

Separate guidelines for government ministers and employees also recommend limiting social contact immediately after exposure, according to Finland's Helsingin Sanomat newspaper.

Ms Marin has faced criticism since a gossip magazine published photos of the prime minister attending a Helsinki nightclub with friends on Saturday.

The Seiska magazine said it spoke to witnesses who saw her dancing at the Butchers club, where she stayed until 04:00.

Prime Minister of Finland Sanna Marin attends a press conference IMAGE SOURCE,EPA Image caption, Ms Marin said she had initially been advised not to isolate Opposition politicians suggested Ms Marin should have set a good example by isolating voluntarily instead of going clubbing. Mia Laiho, an MP for the National Coalition Party, said Ms Marin had been "irresponsible".

Ms Marin became the world's youngest prime minister when she elected to lead a centre-left coalition with four other parties in 2019.

Finland has fared better than most of its European allies during the Covid pandemic, recording about 196,000 cases and 1,384 deaths.

But since September, infections have been creeping ever higher, with increases of more than 1,000 a day for weeks.

The country has also recorded eight cases of the new Omicron variant, which experts fear may be more transmissible and evade some immunity to Covid.

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niennaful-blog · 8 years ago

Text

It’s taken her months to get here. Months and countless of credits and they’re telling her she’s fine now - but there’s a still ghostly ache in her joints. An itching at her left ankle, a jerking in the knee that follows, a tugging in her hip. They’re telling her it’s psychosomatic; that the implants work, that she’s good as new, that her body’s accepted her new leg no trouble. But it doesn’t feel like no trouble. It doesn’t feel like a part of her. It’s her, but it’s wrong.

They’re telling her that’s normal, too. That she’ll get used to it. She’s already walking, soon she’ll be running a marathon - and even sooner, she’ll be back in the field. There’s a tightness in her chest whenever they say that.

She doesn’t want to go back. She never really truly wanted to join in the first place - but she was good at it. She had her biotic implants, and her father was proud of her when she went out and came back victorious. Killing never sat right with her, though. That wasn’t the way she wanted to make the world a better place.

“Don’t worry, Nennu,” she hears a voice, suddenly, almost jolting her awake. Back out of her thoughts, the nickname her father uses almost shooting a wave of repulsion through her. It’s not because of him, though - it’s because of the disappointment about to follow. Her betrayal, some might call it. He certainly would. “They said your leg’s fine. You’re just nervous,” he continued. Took a seat opposite from her, smiled. It reminded her of the smile her parents would always give her when she was trying to skip school and they were trying to coerce her to go anyway - and before it turned into a full-blown fight. Sweet, yet not sincere. He must’ve sensed something in the air.

“Yeah,” she replied. Hung her head, gave a few nods. “You just need some fresh air. You have to see your team mates and the jitters will pass, he continued. Observing her, Nienna feeling like his gaze was drilling into her skull. “Right? We can call your turian buddy. Bet he’d like to hear from you, too. You’re the one who took most of the damage.” “I know, dad,” she replied; raised a hand to rub her face, sighed. Shook her head. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll call him. I just can’t right now.”

He paused. One could see his smile twitch. “What do you mean you can’t? You’ve been out of the field for six months. I understand you’re nervous, Nennu, but it wont get any better stuck in here.” His tone is shifting into that of impatience already. “Yeah, and it’s been a fucking joyful six months,” Nienna almost snaps back, “I mean, I’m so enjoying the surgeries and rehabilitation!” That has him falter. Shit. “No, Nennu, that’s not what I meant,” he stutters. Exhales. “I just mean, you’re so reluctant to even call your N7 buddies. They’ve been so understanding as to your situation, it would be nice if you at least called.” “Oh yeah, ‘cause they’ve been visiting so fucking much.” “Nennu---” “No, dad... Don’t,” she stops him, and he pauses. His smile completely crumbles, there. Turns into an expression of confusion.

“What, what is it?” “Dad, I’m not going back.”

There’s a pause. She hasn’t looked him in the eye this entire time - but she has to now. He wont take her serious otherwise. Will think she’s just unsure. She can’t be unsure. She can’t go back.

“What?” “I’m not going back.” “What do you mean you’re not going back?” “I’m not going back!” and she’s raising her voice now. “What did you think?! N7 was never my passion! It’s yours!” “Nienna, c’mon now---” He gets up. Rubs his face, begins to pace. He’s acting like he’s still talking to a child, still trying to debate with a teenager over why she can’t stay out past ten. “This is your whole career we’re talking about!” “This is my fucking life we’re talking about!” And she screams, now. Staggers up to her feet (at least one of them is holding right), refuses his attempt to help her stand. “My leg is fucked! My radial bone is made out of metal! I’m the one who stepped into that fucking mine!--- And don’t you give me a goddamn lecture on being careful!” She interrupts him, when he’s barely opened his mouth. He snaps it back shut.

Shit. She hates that there’s tears welling in her eyes. But it’s not sadness - it’s rage. It’s frustration that after all these years, this is still what it is.

“I’m your fucking daughter,” Nienna exhales, almost defeated, now. Shakes her head. “Can’t you for once look past your ambition?”

A long silence falls between them. He continues to pace, she continues to stand there. Wait. “So what are you going to do?” He finally asks. “I’ll continue where mom left off,” her reply comes quick. Confident. “Mom was trying to make sure that Earth’s species are never going to die out. Not even when we’re gone. Reindeer and arctic foxes and all - I want to continue with that. Dad, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me,” she shakes her head, again. Huffs out a wry chuckle, shakes her head, wipes her eyes. Shit. Shit. Thank God her father’s back is turned to her. “But this isn’t for me. This isn’t how I want to live my life. And I’ve only got one of those.” “And how the Hell are you going to worm your way back in?” “I know people, and mom knew even more. A guy called Artemus Ford on the Citadel is looking for people to work for him. I’m going to go. He’s growing rare species and I want to do the same. I mean, that and make sure cloudberries wont completely die out in this galaxy.”

He huffs a chuckle there, himself. “You and your cloudberries.” Another pause.

“Dad, I’m gonna do this. Whether you accept it or not.” Silence.

“I don’t like it,” he replies. Slowly. “But I can’t stop you either.” “No, you can’t.” “Shit, you’re just like your mother,” he laughs; shakes his head, wipes his face. Nienna, herself, flashes a brief smile there.

“Tell Vitus I said hi?” she asks. Tone softer now. It feels like the end of an era, almost - she knows this marks the end of whatever relationship she ever had with her father. He gives a few nods. Turns. “I will,” a pat on her shoulder as he passes her by. “Take care.”

As he’s gone, she collapses back on that bed. Her eyes are watering again, but somehow, it doesn’t feel all that bad. She wipes her eyes. Breathes. Combs her fingers through her hair. For the first time in months, her leg feels like her own.

“Elä Nennu huoli,” she hears a voice, suddenly, almost jolting her awake. Back out of her thoughts, the nickname her father uses almost shooting a wave of repulsion through her. It’s not because of him, though - it’s because of the disappointment about to follow. Her betrayal, some might call it. He certainly would. “Net sannoi ettei siun jalallas oo hättää. Sinnuu vaan jännittää,” he continued. Took a seat opposite from her, smiled. It reminded her of the smile her parents would always give her when she was trying to skip school and they were trying to coerce her to go anyway - and before it turned into a full-blown fight. Sweet, yet not sincere. He must’ve sensed something in the air.

“Nii,” she replied. Hung her head, gave a few nods. “Sie tarviit vaa ulkoilmaa. Siun pittää vaa nähä siun tiimikavereitas nii tää siun jännitykses mennee kyllä ohitte,” he continued. Observing her, Nienna feeling like his gaze was drilling into her skull. “Eikö nii? Met voidaan soittaa sille siun turian kamulles. Siitäki ois varmaa kiva kuulla et miten sie voit. Sinähä sen pahimman tulen otit niskahas.” “Mie tiiän, isä,” she replied; raised a hand to rub her face, sighed. Shook her head. “Joo joo. Mie soitan sille. Mien vaa jaksa just nyt.”

He paused. One could see his smile twitch. “Mitennii siet jaksa? Siehän oot ollu puol vuotta pois kentältä. Kyllä mie ymmärrän että sinnuu Nennu jännittää, mutku ei se parane täälä kykkimälä.” His tone is shifting into that of impatience already. “Joo ja helevetin upeet puol vuotta on ollukki,” Nienna almost snaps back, “ku mie nii nautin tästä leikkauksista ja kuntoutuksesta!” That has him falter. Shit. “Eiku Nennu, emmie sillä,” he stutters. Exhales. “Mie vaan tarkotan, että ku sie oot nii vastahakonen ees soittamaan siun seiskan kamuilles. Ku siellä ollaan oltu nii ymmärtäväisiä että miks sie et pysty olee just nyt kentällä, et ois kiva jos sie ees soittasit.” “Helevetistippä niitä on täälläkää näkyny.” “Nennu hei---” “Eiku isä---... Älä,” she stops him, and he pauses. His smile completely crumbles, there. Turns into an expression of confusion.

“No, mikä ny?” “Isä ku mie en mee takas.”

“Mitä?” “Mie en mee takas.” “Miten nii et mee takas?” “Mie en mee takas!” and she’s raising her voice now. “Mitä sie luulit?! Än-seiska ei ikinä ollu miun kutsumusammatti! Se oli siun!” “Nienna, elä nyt viiti---” He gets up. Rubs his face, begins to pace. He’s acting like he’s still talking to a child, still trying to debate with a teenager over why she can’t stay out past ten. “Tässä on ny kyse koko siun urasta!” “Tässä on vittu kyse miun elämästä!” And she screams, now. Staggers up to her feet (at least one of them is holding right), refuses his attempt to help her stand. “Miun jalka tässä on paskana! Miun värttinäluu on metallia! Mie astuin siihen vitun miinaan ja mie tässä maksan!--- Eläkä perkele pidä mitää saarnaa jostain vitun huolellisuudesta!” She interrupts him, when he’s barely opened his mouth. He snaps it back shut.

Shit. She hates that there’s tears welling in her eyes. But it’s not sadness - it’s rage. It’s frustration that after all these years, this is still what it is.

“Mie oon vittu siun tyttäres,” Nienna exhales, almost defeated, now. Shakes her head. “Etkö sie voi kerran ees nähä kunnianhimoos pidemmälle?”

A long silence falls between them. He continues to pace, she continues to stand there. Wait. “Ja mitä sie meinaat sitte tehä?” He finally asks. “Mie jatkan äidin työtä,” her reply comes quick. Confident. “Äiti yritti pittää huolta siitä, ettei maan lajit hävvii ikinä. Sittenkää ku me ollaan menty. Porot ja naalit ja kaikki - mie haluun jatkaa sitä. Isä mie arvostan kaikkee mitä sie oot tehny miulle,” she shakes her head, again. Huffs out a wry chuckle, shakes her head, wipes her eyes. Shit. Shit. Thank God her father’s back is turned to her. “Mut tää ei oo minnuu varten. Tää ei oo se miten mie halluun elää miun elämää. Ei miulla oo ku yks sellanen.” “Ja milläs helevetillä sie meinasit niihi piireihi takas ujuttautua?” “Mie tunnen ihmisiä sitä kautta, ja äiti tunsi viä enemmän. Sellanen ku Artemus Ford Citadelilla ettii ihmisiä sille töihin. Mie aion mennä. Se kasvattaa harvinaisia eläinlajeja ja mie haluun tehä samaa. Meinaan siis, sitä ja pittää huolen ettei hillat vaa häviä koko galaksista.”

He huffs a chuckle there, himself. “Sie ja siun hillas.” Another pause.

“Isä, mie aijon tehä tän. Hyväksyt sie sen tai et.” Silence.

“En mie tästä tietenkää tykkää,” he replies. Slowly. “Mut en mie sinnuu voi estääkkää.” “Et nii.” “Ai vittu että sie oot ihan niinku äitis,” he laughs; shakes his head, wipes his face. Nienna, herself, flashes a brief smile there.

“Sano Vitukselle terveisiä?” she asks. Tone softer now. It feels like the end of an era, almost - she knows this marks the end of whatever relationship she ever had with her father. He gives a few nods. Turns. “Mie sanon,” a pat on her shoulder as he passes her by. “Piä sie huolta.”

#SHIT I DID IT #;; headcanons.#;; about.#ALL THE TRANSLATIONS are under the cut #I just wanted the ''''authentic'''' version #to be there #anyway #this was quick as hell but #it's done it can stop haunting me #what do I tag this as???#surgery mention cw #limp loss mention cw #amputation mention cw #bad parental relationship???#let me know honestly

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