#ten cents a dance

[newyorkthegoldenage]

Hostesses at the Savoy Ballroom, Harlem, 1938.

Until 1943, the Savoy Ballroom was renowned for its “hostesses”— attractive, well-dressed and well-mannered young ladies in the employ of the ballroom, who could teach you the latest dance steps or simply give you the pleasure of their company on the dance floor . Dance partners for hire were sometimes called “taxi dancers” and could be had for 25 cents for three dancers. The hostess booth in the Savoy was by the stairwell.

Photo & text: PIC magazine via Welcome to the Savoy

[maddie-grove]

Little Book Review: YA/Children's Literature Round-Up (May-December 2022)

Dear Mr. Henshaw by Beverly Cleary (1983): Leigh Botts keeps up a years-long correspondence with children's author Mr. Henshaw, which becomes an important outlet after his parents divorce and he has to move to a new town with his mother. This is the book that won Beverly Cleary the Newberry Award, and frankly it's like when Leonardo DiCaprio won Best Actor for The Revenant instead of The Wolf of Wall Street. Cleary was a legend, but she excelled most at lower-stakes childhood (and sometimes adolescent) drama, like being bad at cursive, not owning enough cashmere sweaters, or (at worst) worrying because your father lost his job. This is still a sweet, sensitive problem novel, yet I feel like Judy Blume or Betsy Byars would've pushed it to the next level.

The Snow Angel by Suzanne Weyn (1996): In the eighth volume of a middle-grade series about four girls who are friends with angels, rich girl Molly is devastated when her boyfriend dumps her for hippie-dippy Christina. She distances herself from her loved ones, almost relapses in her recovery from anorexia, and ignores the gigantic snow-angel-turned-tourist-trap on her other friend Ashley's horse farm. Luckily, her dad just brought a catatonic Irish boy into their house! Can Molly help herself by helping him? I bought this book for a dime because it looked completely ridiculous, and it delivered on that front. I really didn't like any of the girls except for Molly, and with her it was mostly just the sympathy I'd have for any troubled teenager.

The Five Little Peppers and How They Grew by Margaret Sidney (1881): In a small New England town, widowed Mrs. Pepper and her five kids (Ben, Polly, Joel, Davie, and Phronsie) must work hard to keep their spirits up in the face of grinding poverty, measles, and monkey-related shenanigans. I made several gos at reading this book as a child, but always lost steam after the Peppers made friends with the wealthy King family. Little Emily was right on the money, because this classic is just not very good, especially after the rich folks start helping out. It's beyond treacly and only a few of the episodic chapters have a good amount of tension. Polly's almost-going-blind-from-measles-and-eldest-daughter-syndrome arc is still great, though.

Afternoon of the Elves by Janet Taylor Lisle (1989): Sheltered fourth-grader Hillary forms an unlikely friendship with her neighbor, outcast sixth-grader Sara-Kate, after the older girl claims to have elves in her backyard. I had to read this book for school in fourth grade and I did not like it. I felt like it was trying to lure me in with something fun (magic, miniatures), only to never deliver and hit me with the actual sad topic (poverty and mental illness of a parent) instead. I stand by my elementary-school opinion. The good version of this novel is Daphne's Book by Mary Downing Hahn (if you want to read about an average girl befriending the class outcast before losing her to Social Services) or Lucie Babbidge's House by Sylvia Cassedy (if you want to read about a troubled girl getting lost in the arguably magical miniatures sauce).

Ten Cents a Dance by Christine Fletcher (2008): Working at a meatpacking plant to support her arthritic widowed mother and little sister in early-1940s Chicago, pretty, scrappy teenager Ruby Jelinski takes a chance and becomes a dime-a-dance girl at the recommendation of a handsome neighborhood hoodlum. I read this book at some point in high school and vaguely remembered liking it, but this time I was blown away. Fletcher packs a mind-bogging amount of character development and historical detail into a fast-paced story that ventures into some unexpected territory. It's maybe one of the best historical novels I've ever read.

Mitch and Amy by Beverly Cleary (1967): Nine-year-old twins Mitch and Amy don't always get along, but, if an outsider messes with one of them, he better be prepared for double trouble. Class bully Alan Hibbler learns this to his sorrow. This is the kind of cute slice-of-life story that was right in Cleary's wheelhouse, although it's not her most memorable. There are lots of sweet moments between the twins; for example, Amy gets Mitch an exciting book from the library when he's sick because she senses it'll help him with his reading struggles, and Mitch goes to bat for her when the dreaded Alan spits in her hair. I do think it would've been ideal if Mitch had also done something to help Amy with multiplication, for the symmetry. Also, I can't believe I missed the beginning-of-the-late-1960s California setting. These are some Joan Didion babies.

Cleopatra: Daughter of the Nile by Kristiana Gregory (1999): Her older sister wants to kill her, her father is a severe alcoholic, and she's stuck living in Rome with a bunch of gross old men who don't take her seriously, but teenage Cleopatra doesn't let that keep her from learning and adapting. This is one of the Royal Diaries I didn't read as a kid, and I really enjoyed the characterization of Cleopatra, who's resilient, clever, curious, and conflicted about her thorny family relationships.

(The Snow Angel, The Five Little Peppers and How They Grew, and Cleopatra: Daughter of the Nile were all first-time reads; the rest were rereads.)

[tippytopoftrees]

Ten Cents A Dance (1931) Barbara Stanwyck and Ricardo Cortez

[female-malice]

AMELIA STRICKLER: Trans TikTok star Dylan Mulvaney's offensive parody makes a total mockery of female athletes like me 

It Is so offensive, it reminds me of a routine by a chauvinist male comedian from the 1970s. Dylan Mulvaney, a TikTok influencer and performer, leaps around wearing Nike leggings and a sports bra. Their exaggerated movements seem to me to parody a woman’s exercise routine.

Mulvaney, a biological male who first openly identified as ‘transgender’ in March last year, has been signed by the world’s biggest sports company to promote women’s clothing. I am a GB shot putter who has won the British title twice and competed in the Commonwealth Games. I am a European finalist and world championship finalist.

I know how many years of training it takes, often at great personal cost, to reach the top levels of sport.

And I know what it is to be a woman.

In the video advert, Mulvaney frankly appears to be laughing in the face of female athletes like me – and any other woman or girl who wants to better themselves physically.

I’ve been a shot putter since I was ten. Life in professional athletics requires grit and determination. It doesn’t involve dancing around, grinning inanely.

It means getting up at the crack of dawn to train, keeping going when every muscle in your body is screaming at you to stop, forgoing time with friends and family and being utterly single-minded. And because so few female athletes attract sponsorship from giants like Nike, we often have to fit training and competing around other paid work.

For many years, I had two jobs to support my shot putting career. Recently I found a private sponsor through my athletics club Thames Valley Harriers, which enables me to keep competing.

But most female athletes don’t have that advantage. Women get 1 per cent of all sports sponsorship money – and yet to see Nike willing to shell out however many thousands it is to Mulvaney – who, remember, has not fully ‘transitioned’ to female – is utterly demoralising.

Nike likes to harp on about how it champions women: last year it announced an ‘Athletes Think Tank’ to help ‘serve today’s women athletes’, while a 2021 campaign praised mums for being ‘the toughest athletes’.

All well and good – but contrast these warm words with Nike’s actions towards the female athletes it actually sponsored. Women such as Olympic runner Alysia Montano were subject to ‘performance-based reductions’ – amounting to a 70 per cent pay cut – when they were unable to race due to being pregnant or having just given birth. In other words, penalised for being a woman.

Following a public outcry, Nike amended its policy to allow women 18 months off around pregnancy, but this latest publicity stunt reveals just how little the company really cares about women in sport.

It would be better to invest some of the money given to attention-seeking influencers such as Mulvaney to develop better sportswear for biological women.

In nearly a decade of competing at the top level, I have yet to find a decent sports bra: I have to wear two at once.

Modelling a bra on someone who has a male torso is an insult to those of us with female bodies.

At the track yesterday, many fellow female athletes were deeply upset by Nike’s apparent contempt for our sport. As one said – and I agree – ‘I’m glad Nike isn’t my sponsor.’

Women are still fighting for true equality in sport – we’ve made progress, but there’s a long way to go. We don’t need a big brand such as Nike to bring it down with crass campaigns. I agree with Sharron Davies – women should boycott Nike. If they refuse to support women in sport, then why should we support them?

[wonik1ss]

౨ৎ Stay Until 2 ? — kim minji

001. age changer + written | masterlist

taglist : @technicallyimportantsweets @juhyunsthirdwife @jjkills @kimakento @fluffyji @somedaydream @emphobics @zey1ltn @lovepjohootoa @takpayahtahu @nwjsenthusiast @baewonlove @aeriniee @mygfiswonyoung @heekkicr @jinsoulinator @addorations @ssoursss @klvarchives @yerimbrit @gayforalll @haerinsloverr @slowlydifferentbluebird @yawnzlvr @technicallyimportantsweets @juhyunsthirdwife @kimakento @deersteel @hannibangggg @popasi @rianosis @jkwsel @eternalgayshits @dearyujimin

you took a deep breath before you turned on your stream. after a few minutes the comments started to roll in and your giggled did too. minju being one of them made your smile burn brighter.

“hay bun buns ! today we are going to be doing something a little different.. one of you will get to play fortnite with me..”. as you sighed your rolled your eyes at the comments.

@juju.beat — LET ME JOIN AND WHOP YOUR ASS !

@fan2821 — YAHH

@fan3826 — I miss haerin :(

“your so funny minju !”. you rolled your eyes as you looked to see minju donated 0.33 cents.

@juju.beat — suck it ;D <3

you made a heart to the camera then flipped it off, and more and more comments came.

“if you want to join me just check my newest tweet and put down your Fortnite user and discord so we can chat why’ll we play !”. after posting the tweet for a few minutes you just talked to your fan. while a couple miles away sixteen year old hyein was ecstatic to join her favorite youtuber. hurriedly hyein responded the the tweet her favorite bts playlist playing in the background.

then after a few minutes of geeking out hyein stationed herself at her computer loading Fortnite and discord in her pink pajama’s.

“hyein-ah get to sleep now !”

“yes mom !”. hyein ran to turn of her lights and after a few minutes turned on her leds. meanwhile you finally stopped drowning on about your new cat. opening up twitter for your stream your scrolled and waited a few minutes.

“and…. hye_iup on Fortnite and discord won ! pls accept my friend requests and we will finally start some gameplay !”. hyein eyes half opened jumped. did you actaully say her name?

just to be sure hyein checked and you were requesting to follower her. after some breathing exercises hyein accepted voice and joined your discord call.

“hi.. how are you?”

“42”. you paused. surely your hearing things..

“ok.. do you want to just jump-“

“ofcourse can’t wait to beat you this will be soooo easy”. you sat stunned for a minute before your competitiveness kicked in.

“I’ve been practicing !”. hyein pretend to yawn.

“we’re you practicing that one time haerin snipped you on her first game..”. your chat erupted and your jaw dropped.

“stop trash talking me and join the game!”. hyein giggled and then game began. a few fans snuck there way into your game and tried to help you. mean while hyein was dancing with a chicken.

“you have been quiet for a while.. um..”

“hyein ! and I’m dancing with a chicken ! remind me of my own..”. it took you a second to digest everything the girl had said.

“I’m grinding my ass off and you’re dancing withs chicken?”. for the discord called you heard two shots.

“she pulled a gun on me.. how disrespectful ! chicky would never do that to me..”

“your chickens named.. chicky..”

“Im.. se-twenty I’m not that creative sorry !”. after a few more minutes your both got into a flow. hyein would be doing some thing weird like dancing with the whole avatar crew.

“kinda wish kora was here though-“. you hummed and then heard two guns go off.

“she killed everyone”. you burst out laughing while hyein held a funeral for the gang.

or even meet you face to face but not know because you changed your skin.

“ugh.. idk why people choose bright skins there just asking to be killed..”. hyein went off for a good ten minutes before someone donated to you telling her that was you and she burst out laughing. two hours in hyein was complaining about her work when the game started to come to an end.

“like why did this old as teacher yell at me for not knowing geometry ! like- girl I learned that two years ago calm down”

“so your 17..?”

“totally”. as soon as that word left hyein’s mouth her character evaporated into thin air.

“WHAT THE- omg what !”. you giggled as Hyein went off.

“unfair !”. you could here her pout through the screen so you tried to brighten her mood.

“hay is it ok if I get your number so we can play more..? everyone seems to love your yelling..!”. hyein scoffed, but you were right. you usually had 50-200k people watching but you broke your highest record and had 3million people watching.

“uh— sure give me a sec..”. as you tapped your fingers on your desk hyein ran to her phone on her bed. after texting her bestfriend wonhak thirty times with no response she sighed and went back to her chair.

hyein was a troubled teen. with mostly b’s and some c’s and a f in phys ed. so when she asked for a phone for her sixteenth birthday she got a fat no. but you were y/n y/l/n ! so when hyein got back on the call she gave the only number she knew.

“sorry but I have school tomorrow bye ! can’t wait to beat you later !”. you giggled as after hyein left you ended your stream too. but as hyein brushed her teeth and finally went to sleep at twelve you texted ‘her’ at 12:15. the thing was the only number hyein knew that wasn’t a parents or cousins was minji her favorite cousins bestfriend.

[cazzyf1]

My favourite quotes from the book 'Mon Ami Mate'

This took me a few months to read this book and I wrote down a lot of quotes so be prepared for a long read - but definitely worth it to learn more about Mike Hawthorn & Peter Collins

"Two years later, the World War Two fighter airfield at Westhampnett became Goodwood racing circuit and, as it was just a few miles south of the Farnham area, the Members (Mike's friend group) soon found their way there. 'Mike would never pay to get in' says McNab, 'He would climb over the fence, scrounge a couple of tickets and then pass them through, so we all got in for free'" - p8

"Nick Harrison remembers a dinner party for ten or a dozen people at The Sally Lunn restaurant in Bagshot when Mike left the table at the end of the evening, climbed out of the toilet window and went home, rather than pay his share of the bill. 'That was typical of him' says Nick, 'Not because he was mean, but because loved to get away with it - it was a sort of challenge for him'" - p8

"Mike and McNab once counted twenty-four pints of light ale disappearing down the Hawthorn gullet during the course of an evening" - p8

"We became great friends, but if he didn't like you he would tread on you and I know people who felt that he was a most unpleasant young man. There was a very dark side to Mike and although he was tremendously popular I would say that twenty per-cent of the people who came into contact with him couldn't stand him" - p9

"Mike found Merridale (his house) a very lonely place, so the McNabs (best friends family) took him under their wing and he stayed with them for some six months. Although clearly upset by his parents separation, Mike never discussed it - even with Neil, whose bedroom he shared. He loved both his parents dearly and refused to allow their break up to alter his feelings towards either" - p9

"Here Peter went underwater swimming, or snorkeling, then a new sport rapidly becoming popular. He hired flippers, helmet and spear-gun and caught many good size fish, which he sold to pay for more swimming lessons" - p18

"He could be a very serious young man, especially where his cars were concerned. He was dedicated to them and if I wasn't out with him some nights he'd go to Ron and Mary's house and talk with them for hours. They were his closest friends and I don't remember Peter ever having a particular man friend at all" - p21

"On the home front, Peter adored his mother and had established good fraternal relations with his sister Trisha (now nine), who naturally hero-worshipped her dashing brother, the racing driver. There was a certain distance, however, between father and son, who were occasionally not on speaking terms" - p21

"Throughout 1951 Mike had raced the Rileys dressed in his everyday clothes, which included a tie. However, if the weather was warm and he wasn't wearing a pullover the tie would flap about in his face, which could be very disconcerting, so he began wearing one of his bow ties for racing" - p33/34

"He was driving into an Italian village at a fair clip when he and co-driver Chips Chipperton spotted a large sign saying 'Adagio', which means 'slowly'. 'Isn't that where the dancing girls come from?' Asked Mike, without lifting his foot, and promptly crashed into a stone bridge" - p39/40

"Mike went to Val d`Isere, in Switzerland, for a skiing holiday with fellow-member Mike Currie. It was not a great success, as first of all Mike got involved in a serious party after a smallpox inoculation, which combined with his alchol intake to lay him out for four or five days. When he was able to stand up again he tried skiing for the first time, only to fall down constantly. He quickly decided that various parts of the lanky Hawthorn frame were liable to snap in this dangerous endeavour and made for the comparative safety of the bar." - p44

"Having learned that his days with a green Ferrari were over he decided to add a dark green, zip-front jacket, or wind cheater, to his racing uniform. "If I can't drive a green car," he told Neil McNab, "at least I can wear a green jacket!" - p47

"The young British driver stood for the British National Anthem with tears of emotion running down his cheeks while the crowd audibly gasped with amazement when he took off his helmet and they saw his obvious youth, after a drive in which he matched every champion on the circuit with courage, speed and racecraft." - p50

"Mike spent the festivities in London with his friends, Pat and Jill Hume-Kendall, who were now the proud parents of a four month old baby boy named Simon. On Christmas morning Pat and Mike took Simon (Mike's godson) to the pub, leaving Jill to prepare lunch. "On their way home, Mike decided to demonstrate a four-wheel drift with the pram and tipped my beautiful baby onto the pavement, scraping his little head" recalls Jill, with a shudder. "I was absolutely furious, of course, and it completely ruined our Christmas lunch"." - p59

"'The night before the rally I went to bed' says Adams 'But Peter was out on the town, chasing girls' (He would chat up the maids at every hotel we went to)" - p75

"Early in 1953 Peter went to live in Paris. 'He went there to escape National Service' says John Wyer. 'There was no argument about that. He talked about it quiet openly later and at dinner one night we had a long argument with Pat Griffith, who had already done his stint. George Abecassis was there too, and he said he had throughly enjoyed his time in the RAF, in spite of spending part of it as a prisoner of war. Peter thought the whole thing was a complete waste of time and asked Pat, 'What good did it ever do you?'" - p81

"Peter also learned to speak French fluently by engaging in intercourse - social and otherwise - with countless pretty Parisiennes!" - p81

"Peter acquired an Alsatian at some stage and if he intended it to be a guard dog it appeared to be an utter failure, welcoming anyone who came to the door with its wagging tail and slobbering chops. Then one day it mistakenly proved it's worth. Peter went out, leaving a plumber and an electrician to do a couple of jobs in the flat. Many hours later he returned, to find them still there and extremely agitated. The Alsatian, which had let them in without a murmur, had refused to let them out once they had finished their work." - p82

"As soon as we arrived Jean Lucas told Mike that someone had called him from England two or three times and left a number. It was the man from Reuters Press Agency and when Mike phoned he asked if he was going to England to see his father. Mike said, 'No. I am going to Le Mans. Why should I go to England?' Then the Reuters man told him that his father had crashed and was badly hurt. Naturally, Mike was in a terrible state, but I took him to Orly and the journalist Bernard Cahier managed to get him a seat on the last plane for London. While we were waiting Mike called the garage at Farnham and was told that his father was dead." - 87

"Romolo Tavoni was present in Ferrari's office one day when he (enzo) was discussing a recent race with Mike. 'Why did you have difficulty in that race?' Asked Ferrari, "My people tell me the car was fine.' 'The gearbox was no good,' said Mike, 'It was impossible for me to change gear properly'. Ferrari (who's cars were always 'fine') flew into a rage. 'You say my gearbox is no good? My gearbox is the best and if you say it is no good a second time, you can leave!' 'Goodbye!' Said Mike, and walked out. Ferrari quickly called him back and all was forgiven. He liked people to stand up for themselves." - p103

'Another who remembers his strong, anti-German feeling is Moi Kenward, one of his few, really serious girlfriends. 'We were upstairs at the 1955 Earls Court Motor Show when someone told Mike that Sir Jeremy Boles was buying a gullwing Mercedes.' She recalled. "He's not buying a fucking German car! Come on - let's get down there" He said, he grabbed me and we hurtled downstairs and there was Sir Jeremy writing out his cheque. Mike stormed onto the stand and said, "what the hell are you buying a bloody Kraut car for? Why don't you buy a Jaguar from me, you silly bastard?" - p103

"For several years, Mike had been troubled by severe pain in his kidneys, which frequently left him feeling very low indeed. He told one or two close friends that when he went to the toilet it was 'like peeing grit' and that often, having started, he couldn't finish the job. The resulting 'off days' did not go un-noticed in the racing world, but Mike kept very quiet about the reason behind them." - p104

"The treatment involved the insertion of a small tube into the abdomen and the restoration of the balance of the fluids going through his kidneys. Visitors such as Bill Cotton and Moi Kenward remember that Mike was "full of tubes" afterwards, and, as Moi recalls, painful though his condition was, he could still see the funny side of it. 'He had a tube up his old man, draining into a bottle, and he told me it was very painful "because every time you walk into the room I get an erection. It's agony!" 'One evening I was asked to wait outside for a few minutes while the doctors examined him. They cane out roaring with laughter and Mike said, "I told them what the problem was and they're going to take it out tomorrow." - p104

"Mike was never short of visitors and Moi was one of the most frequent. 'I had long hair in those days and Mike would spend hours brushing it while I sat beside his bed. That was the very gentle side of him few people saw.' Others went not to have their hair brushed, but to have their whistles whetted, although not when Mike's mother was present. Malcolm Richardson and some friends turned up one day and when Mrs H discovered that their raincoat pockets were crammed with bottles of beer she threw them all out." - p104

"The first thing I saw Mike Hawthorn running around, white-faced and absolutely distracted. He was alone, running through the caravans behind the pits. Just running around. He must have just got out of his car" - p127

"As this was sinking in, a Jaguar mechanic appeared and asked Lance to go to the Jaguar pits and talk to Mike 'he's having hysterics and says it's all his fault...he says He's never going to race again' Macklin refused 'because he bloody nearly killed me too, and, I'm not feeling all that happy towards him'. A few minutes later, Mike appeared 'He was tottering. He stood behind me at the table, put his arms on my shoulder and said, 'Oh my God, Lance. I'm terribly sorry. I bloody near killed you and I killed all those people. I'm really sorry. I'm certainly never going to race again.' My anger evaporated, Macklin recalled" - p127

'Rob's memory of Mike's arrival is still vivid. "His first words - and I'll never forget them - were, 'it's all my fault! It was all my fault! I wanted to get into the pits before Fangio came by"' - p127

'Mike returned to England and appeared on the BBC-TV to talk about the disaster with Rudolf Uhlenhaut of Daimler-Benz. The telecast was an unhappy experience for Mike, as Moi Kenward recalls. "He had to face the music. He came round to my flat afterwards and he really was in a terrible state - he was in floods of tears"' - p131

'The weather was fantastic for Aintree, sunny and extremely hot, and I began to feel the effects, so In handed the car over to Castellotti.' wrote Mike later. This is certainly true, but as is often the case with Mike's books, it is not the whole truth, which was that Mike was suffering from a giant hangover! The previous evening he had had a blazing row with Moi Kenward, after which he became drunk as a skunk, leaving him in no state to do any serious motor racing the next day. The row continued after the race, with the result that a furious Moi went out to dinner that evening with Eugenio Castellotti. This did nothing to ease a very jealous Mike's hangover.' - p132

'Recollections of what followed are obscured by a heavy, alcoholic haze, but at some point in the proceedings, Peter Collins, Roy Salvadori and Pat Griffith were seen rolling Rob Walker down 46th Street in a large, wire litter basket' - p138

'About an hour out of Paris we were stopped by a very nice gendarme, who asked us to please drive slowly through his village. Peter pretended he couldn't speak French and the guy was very polite and let us go, but as we drove away, Peter said' "Tous les flics mangent le merde!" (All cops eat shit) when we got to the next village I thought we were going right into clink! Our nice gendarme had obviously phoned ahead and his pals were waiting for us. Peter thought it was a hellava lot of fun - until they hit us for abour fifty bucks. He was a bit subdued for a while after that'- p139

'We(Pat Griffith & Peter Collins) slid off the road and down the mountainside for about fifty feet and I ended up in Peter's lap. "Pat" he said, "I never knew you cared!"' - p140

"Ol' Pete had a very genteel streak in him and would go out of his way to be friends with the new members of the team" - p141

"John Wyer had given us strict instructions not to dice with each other and whatever order we were in at the end of the first lap was to be maintained. I made a better start than Pete, but within a couple of laps he was right with me and we had a most God-almighty dice. All round the circuit we were passing and repassing, pushing each other through the corners and having a wonderful time. Peter was laughing and waving at me, (giving me two fingers, that is!) and we were really going terribly quickly but we always got our positions right as we went past the pits, with me in the lead.Then I lost it coming out of Arnage. I spun right round, Peter went past and from then on he had every right to stay in front. He could have told John that I had spun and said, 'What was I supposed to do wait for him?' But that's exactly what he did he gave me two fingers and let me go by again. He never mentioned it to John and neither did I, because that was exactly the kind of thing he was trying to avoid my spin could have involved Pete and we could have lost both cars. That was how nice a guy he was." - p152

"Peter took his Governorship very seriously and visited us several times that year. He liked to wander round the classrooms, chat to the kids and look at their work. They were all between the ages of five and thirteen, so although they knew he was famous they didn't really know much about him, but he was so charming and interested in what they were doing that they really warmed to him and looked forward to his visits. And he so obviously enjoyed coming down and being associated with something so different from his normal life. Unfortunately for us, he joined Ferrari in 1956 and from then in we saw very little of him, as he was seldom in this country, but he remained a great of friend of the school and myself. I often sought his advice, as he was a well-travelled young man and very intelligent, helpful and loyal." - p153

"Being a great party man and a wow with the ladies, Peter could very easily have made Brooks feel uncomfortable. Instead, he took a rather surprising attitude towards him. In those days we always had a small party the night before a race and when, on the evening before the Nine Hours, Tony said he was going to have an early night, much to everyone's surprise Peter said, 'Right - my man Brooks is going to bed and so am I.' He sunk his last half pint and off he went. That sort of thing happened on more than one occasion" - p155

"He was utterly charming and when I told him that I had to get back to work he said, 'Come back tomorrow, it won't be so busy then.' So I did and despite our age difference and the fact that he was a famous racing driver and I was a trainee salesman we struck up a good - friendship. That year many races were cancelled after Le Mans, so he was often at home and we used to meet frequently, until at the end of the year I had to go off and do my National Service. On my last night at The Black Boy (a pub) he bought me one hundred Players cigarettes and said, 'Keep in touch and come and see me at the meetings when you can get away.' Luckily, I was able to get to quite a few in the next two years and whenever he was there he would invite me into his crowd saying, 'This is my young mate, Trevor, from Kidderminster. He's in the RAF, poor bastard!' Peter never changed" - p161

"Although there was a nine-year age difference, Peter and I were always very close. He was a really terrific older brother and such a happy person, always laughing and joking. Needless to say, I hero-worshipped him and, with Mummy and Daddy, took a great interest in his career which seemed to dominate our conversations at every meal. He still didn't get on with Daddy and Wherever he came home I would say, 'How long are you here for?' and he'd say, 'It depends on the old man.' Ifthings went wrong Peter would high-tail it back to London and stay with Vick Vickers at the Washington Hotel." P161-162

"I remember once when Stirling stayed the night he left his shoes outside his bedroom door to be cleaned! My schoolfriend Sue Pridmore was staying with me and we were so incensed we filled them with sand" - Peter's sister, p162

"I was an unwilling boarder at Malvern Girls College. It was a very strict school and we were not allowed out-even with family - unless prior permission had been granted. This didn't bother Peter, who arrived one day with Stirling, sweeping to a halt in front of the school with a great swirl and flourish of loose chippings on the drive. When I told my housemistress that my brother and Stirling Moss had come to take me home for lunch she immediately phoned my parents, not knowing Peter or Stirling from Adam. "Is this young man your son?" she demanded. 'And circle who is this Stirling Moss person? Are we to release your daughter in their care?" "Mummy managed to convince her that Peter was indeed my brother and as we left he took my school hat inter off my head and in front of this very self-important pudding, plonked it on his own. Her face as we walked out.......As soon as we had gone she called my mother Berm again and said, 'I don't want those two young men to bring your daughter back, I don't like the way they behave at all." - p162

"Mike and Duncan soon found ways of keeping themselves amused.

One day they were in the lobby of the Waldorf Astoria Hotel when a member of a visiting ladies convention saw a man in a blazer and decided that he must be an attendant. "Boy! Where's our convention?" she demanded.

The 'boy' was Mike, and he was naturally unable to answer her question, whereupon the lady was very rude to him. Instead of telling her 'where to go', Mike told her where to go. "Try the eleventh floor, M'am" he said politely.

It then dawned upon the Englishmen that they had a good thing going here and in the following fifteen minutes they directed numerous ladies to the eleventh floor before taking the lift there themselves for a look- see. To their huge delight they found that things were going magnificently awry, for their ladies had walked into the middle of an all-male convention. Not all the ladies were there to attend the same ladies' convention, so the confusion was total. After a gleeful appraisal of their handiwork, Mike and Duncan walked innocently away." - p164

"Watching the race from above the BRM pits was his old schoolfriend, Bill Cotton who saw - and heard - Mike's reaction. "He threw his crash-hat across the pit and said, 'If I want to commit suicide I'll do it without your help, thank you very much indeed!' He then stormed out and went straight to the beer tent in the Paddock, where I joined him. 'That whole fucking car is an absolute time bomb!' He told me. He was livid!"" - p171

"The tyre problem clearly played on Peter's mind, as Ken Gregory remembers - "Peter and I shared a room at the Palace Hotel in Milan and two or three times during the night before the race I was woken up by his voice crying out 'The tyres! The tyres!!' As he thrashed unhappily through a nightmare. Just what mental torture he was going through at the time, I don't know, neither could he remember in the morning but, like the test of the Ferrari drivers, he was obviously terribly worried about tyre position'" - p194

'At the end of the 34th lap there occurred the most stirring things in this most exciting of races for many, many years. Peter Collins, lying in third place, came into the pits for a tyre inspection, and voluntarily handed over his car to Fangio - thereby giving up any possible chance he might have had of winning the World Championship. It was a truly generous action, and one which gives the lie to the cut-throat tactics which one or two people have alleged against motor racing.' - p195

'Despite this, Juan Manuel Fangio won the World Championship for the fourth time, thanks to the generosity of Peter Collins. "I was astonished when he handed over the car," he said afterwards, "but I did not stop to argue. In fact, Peter pushed me into it, although he still had a great chance to win the Championship himself at the time. I know how much that renunciation meant to him. This is one of the things that make a friendship really great. I do not know whether in his place I would have done the same. Collins was the gentleman driver.' - p195

'"It's too early for me to become World Champion - I'm too young." Was the 25 year old's reply, "I want to to on enjoying life and racing, but if I become World Champion now I would have all the obligations that come with it. And Fangio deserves it anyway!" - p195

'He told me, "If I'm good enough I'm automatically going to be number one, so I want to learn to be good enough," which I thought was a beautiful attitude," - p195

"Peter just loved to race," says Ken Gregory, "He did it for the sheer enjoyment it brought him. I don't think he was too concerned with money because he wasn't a big spender - he was very casual with it, really and didn't need an awful lot. He was a very popular character and was always being invited here, there and everywhere. He wasn't extravagant, he wasn't flash with cars - he had a Ford Zephyr and then I arranged for him to have one of the new Sunbeam Rapiers - and he didn't have a palatial residence anywhere. Money was not high on his list of priorities," - p197

'Peter....interestingly, he was certainly the most friendly of the three and probably the best personality, there was an absolute warmth just emanating from him. At the same time he was absolutely impossible where appointments were concerned. If you made a commitment for him you had your heart in your mouth, not knowing whether he would turn up - and frequently he didn't. On the other hand, he also had the ability to smooth ruffled feathers immediately with his charm, which was overwhelming.' - p198

"I was in the foyer, talking with Peter, who had just come back from Modena." Recalls Sir David, "Mike Hawthorn appeared with a beautiful girl on his arm and Peter rushed up to him and said, 'Mike - you must get on a plane and go to Modena. Ferrari wants another driver and you can be the captain of the team." Quite why Peter should offer Mike the 'captiancy' when he had already been given the position is hard to fathom. Nonetheless, Mike was on the phone to Modena the next day and on the following Monday he flew to Italt to talk with Enzo Ferrari. That brief conversation in the foyer of the Leicester Square Theater proved to be the starting point for the great friendship that grew up between Mike and Peter, a friendship that was soon to be adorned with the phrase, 'Mon Ami Mate." - p198

"It was while making his way there with Umberto Maglioli that he heard of his father's fatal car crash. Two days later, Basil Cardew ran a front-page story in The Daily Express revealing how - just hours before the crash - Leslie Hawthorn had spoken to him in the Goodwood Paddock and blamed himself for all of Mike's National Service troubles. "Will you help me about Mike?" He asked Cardew. "The boy is miserable and we have got to settle this call up trouble. Will you write an article in The Daily Express and let people know the whole story?" "Blame me for the mess," he went on, "I advised Mike all along from the time he was sixteen. The boy was always keen to do his National Service, but I have spent my life in racing - motorcycles in the TT and sports car races - and I thought his future lay in that direction, rather than driving lorries for the Army." - p203

"He used to come and stay with my family at Biella frequently," adds Maglioli, "He didn't go home to England because he didn't want to have to give up racing for two years and join the Army. He didn't like living on his own in Modena, so he came to us," - p204

"Mike put up with Italy because he had to in order to avoid the call up, but he badly missed his parents, the Members and the pubs. On his rare visits home he would make a bee-line for the Duke of Cambridge. "There's nothing like the green grass of England!" He would exclaim to Charlie and Marjorie Bishop as he supped his first of many pints for months, and for which he seldom, if ever, paid." - p204

"Peter's lifestyle and attitudes were somewhere in between those of Moss and Hawthorn. He loved parties and girls but was no great drinker, preferring wine with a meal (like moss) rather than downing great quantities of beer in a pub (like hawthorn)" - p211

"Mike was never his teammate (fangio) and they had no common language, so their friendship was very much at arms length, but the Englishman clearly thought the world of him and they enjoyed some unforgettable duels. Peter, on the other hand, had established a very strong rapport with him during their season together at Ferrari in 1956. By that time Fangio had a smattering of French (which Peter spoke fluently) and Peter was quick to learn some Spanish, so a genuine friendship grew up between them, one that was set in stone by the younger man's selfless behaviour in the Italian GP. And, along with everyone else, Juan Manuel came under the Collins spell and held him isn the same sort of paternal esteem as did Enzo Ferrari," - p216

"Stirling Moss had been writing for us (writing car reviews for the Sunday express) and when he left it was Harold Keeble, the Editor, who suggested that Mike should take his place. Mike agreed, with one stipulation - he had to have a slap-up meal with every test. I think his fee was £20 a week - a pittance! We used to pick up the test car at the Express building in Fleet Street and drive to Silverstone, occasionally putting in the report how long it took us to get there - fifty-seven minutes or thereabouts in a quick motor. Often we'd stop for lunch first, usually at The Bell at Aston Clinton, which was a very fine place to eat. We always started with oysters, caviar or snails (Mike was passionately fond of snails - the car used to reek of garlic afterwards), and we always had a bottle of Clos de Vougeot, a very fine wine. After lunch we'd go to Silverstone and belt the car round and then, as often as not we would sit and watch the Circuit Manager, Jimmy Brown, do a few laps in it. In the spring, Geoff Duke would often be there testing his motorbike and sometimes Mike would have a go. He would go crazy about motorbikes and would belt round with no leathers or helmet - no protection at all! In the summer, when we got bored with Silverstone we'd go to the seaside - always somewhere with a Big Dipper. Mike loved Big Dippers. He never knew what was in his Road Tests until he read the article, and next time we'd meet he'd say, 'That was a bloody silly thing I wrote last week, wasn't it?'" - p222

"Mike Hawthorn accompanied his great friend's beautiful, grieving widow back to England. At London Airport he bravely faced the Press and TV cameras and gave his eye-witness account of the crash, the tears running down his face, as The Daily Mail recorded.

"There was a little dip." he said, "We went into that. There was a sharp, short right-hand bend and Peter took it a little too wide and didn't turn into it soon enough. His car hit the bank and turned over. I don't know how fast he was driving. There was just a bunch of us. Tony Brooks was in front. Peter was second. As a driver he was the best, definitely. As a friend....he was my best friend, and that is it."

The Daily Express quoted him as saying, 'Pete and I raced as a team..... We were both chasing Tony Brooks, the eventual winner, and that was fair enough. The idea was to catch Tony and try to blow him up. But we were not racing against each other. I was just waiting behind Pete as he touched the bank."

'Hawthorn could hardly speak. He was asked, "Will you race again?" "If Ferrari wants me to I will. I am due to race in the Portuguese GP in two weeks, but personally I am not very interested." 'Massive, fair-haired Hawthorn crammed a handkerchief against his mouth. "Damn silly of me." he said, "So sorry...."

'He walked blindly along the corridor, took Louise Collins by the hand and drove away.'" - p227-228

Mike described the first part of the trip briefly in Challenge Me The Race:

We landed at Toussus le Noble, got a taxi into Paris, which cost about £3, and stayed the night with some friends. It was a late night as sometimes happens in Paris and we were late getting up next morning."

Well, yes and then again, no; for while this approximates the truth is far from being the whole truth, which is much more entertaining. Neil McNab spills the beans:

"Before we left I was severely lectured by Raymond Mays to the effect that on no account was Mike to be let loose in Paris, as BRM wanted him to be in condition to drive at Monaco. We landed near Paris and grabbed a cab to Fred Payne's bar in Rue Pigalle, where we immediately got stuck into champagne. "In those days, half-bottles of bubbly were about ten bob each and we got through an astronomical number. Fred's place was next to a brothel and there were always several tarts in the bar, having a drink and looking for business. The more we drank the better-looking they became and we got very pissed, eventually going next door with two of the girls, who were by now looking very good indeed. "A while later, Mike suddenly appeared in my room stark naked and said, 'I'm getting bloody bored with mine. Why don't we go and see what else is going on? We might find some better-looking girls than ours.' "We were both very big blokes and pretty fit, so we went into some of the other rooms to see if we were missing out on any good crumpet. We'd just lift the bloke off his tart, have a good look at her and drop him back on again. What a furore that started!" A furore, indeed. The brothel was full of Algerian workers out for a night of horizontal dancing and they were not amused at having their coitus so rudely interruptus by the two giant Englishmen, who were naked, rampant and not a pretty sight! There was, as the saying goes, uproar in the house, and Hawthorn and McNab were lucky to escape with all their bits and pieces still attached." - p229

"Because Rouen was a road circuit, practice started at 6 am and was over by 8, leaving the drivers with the rest of the day free. I had joined up with Peter and Louise and Mike suggested that we all go to Deauville, so we piled into the Gull, had a delicious lunch, wandered about a bit and then flew back. As we came towards Rouen Mike was chatting away merrily and I thought we were approaching the runway rather too fast for comfort. At the very last minute he suddenly zoomed up and away and did another circuit, roaring with laughter. 'This air speed indicator of mine is absolutely up the creek!' he said, 'I must try again." - p230

"Terrifying!" he recalls emphatically. "He (Mike) wasn't the greatest map reader in the world and he used to follow railway lines to where we were going. Once we set off for Le Mans and when we got to Salisbury he realised we'd followed the wrong line out of Woking! He was definitely a 'seat of the pants' flyer. He was a good pilot in that he had a feeling for the thing, but there was very little theory involved in his navigation."

When Mike joined Peter at Ferrari in 1957 he asked Ken Gregory to look after some of his racing interests where they blended with Peter's. When they were in England, the Scuderia would cable Ken's office and ask for one or both to go to Modena for some testing. Ron Smith recalls:

"I'd phone Pete in Kidderminster to tell him that he was wanted in Modena on Tuesday, or whenever, but he'd say,

'Oh, we're going to be on the boat in Dartmouth. Give is Mike a ring.'

"So I'd call Mike in Farnham and he would say, 'What's Pete doing?'

""He's on his boat.'"

"Well, what's Taffy doing?"

"I don't know what von Trips is doing. Ferrari has asked for one of you.'

"Eventually, one or both of them would set off in

Mike's Vega Gull and, as likely as not, after a couple of hours I'd get a phone call.

""We've had to jack it in at Lydd, Ron. Can you get us on a flight from London?'"

So much for navigation. And Neil McNab says that - having retired from the circuits, Mike was planning to take up air racing. The mind boggles........." - p230

"During 1956, Peter's personal transport was a Ford Zephyr, which sported a bumper sticker proclaiming, I LIKE GIRLS!". If nothing else, this should ensure Mr Collins a place in the Guinness Book of Records, under the heading, 'Great Understatements of our Time.'

Peter and Mike simply loved the company of ladies and pursued them constantly, with vigour and lustful intent. Both men had a great deal going for them in this endeavour, being undeniably handsome, charming and charismatic to a degree. Mike was 6ft 2ins, so blond he was almost albino and possessed of a 'bowl-`em-into- bed' smile which seems to have been inherited by Jack Nicholson. For his part Peter was slight, straw-blond and so full of devastating charm it should have been illegal. Just as important is the fact that they were blessed with the gift of laughter and doubtless tumbled many a lass, giggling, between the sheets" - p241

"Before he joined Ferrari, Mike shared a flat in Chelsea with his newly-married friends, Pat and Jill Hume- Kendall. "He had a room which must have been a larder, or something, originally, because it had no widow." recalls Jill. "He called it Little Hell and it saw a lot of action - he used to bring different girls back there all the time. When we moved to Neville Terrace in the summer of 1953, Mike would often stay with us when he was in England and by then our son had arrived. I was always trying to keep his hands off my au pairs - that was my prime occupation when he was around! He also had affairs with most of my friends, the unmarried ones anyway." - p241/242

"It was at the end of that year the Mike met the first of his serious girlfriends, Moi Kenward. "I was working for Michelin Tyres at the Earls Court Motor Show and one of the reps who knew Mike brought him onto the stand for a drink. I'd just finished my stint and was about to leave when he said, 'Where are you going?' I told him I was going home and he said, 'No, you're not you're going to come and have a drink with me.' No invitation - just an order! "We went back to my flat, where I changed. He made no attempt at a pass and then we went to a sherry bar near the Michelin Building in the Fulham Road. It was all terribly innocent and I didn't go to bed with Mike for a very long time, which surprised him. Eventually, he took me to see a French film, The Ripening Seed', which did the trick and he always used to tease me afterwards. I had to take you to a sexy French film before you would go to bed with me!' I remember nothing about the film, but I do remember that Mike bought tickets for the cheapest seats in the house and immediately marched me up to the most expensive ones! That was so typical of him." - p241

"At the end of 1954 he won the Spanish Grand Prix at Barcelona. I was terribly broke and living in a little flat in Earls Court. On the evening of the race I listened to the radio on the news and heard that he had won. I was so excited, but then I thought, I wonder if I heard correctly?' so I had to wait for the next news bulletin. My radio was plugged into the mains as were the lights and I had to put shillings in the meter. I was so short of money I turned out the lights and read a book by candle- light, to make sure I had enough electricity for the radio.

"Gregor Grant of Autosport told me that Mike didn't go to the post-race party as he was so anxious to fly back to me. He brought me a beautiful belt, which I still have. He was extremely generous in this respect and was always bringing me scarves and belts and things and later when he went off to a race he would as likely as not put £100 in my bank account before he left, which was a ■lot of money in those days."- p241

"On the other hand, he was incredibly jealous. When he was in hospital with his kidney problems I visited him constantly and whenever I popped out to the loo he would empty my handbag onto his bed and go through the contents. He had a key to my flat and I'd often find that he'd been through my chest of drawers and everything to see if I'd had a letter from some other man. He often said, 'If anyone else goes out with you I'll bloody well kill him!' and we weren't even engaged! And he would never introduce me to any of the other drivers because he was so jealous" - p242

"Robert Glenton (Mike's friend and ghost-writer on The Sunday Express) recalls that he was completely smitten by Cherry. "He seemed to take girls or leave them until she came along, but he lost a lot of sleep over her - he really became moon-struck. Cherry was Mike's great love. He really wanted to marry her and when Mike wanted something really badly he went at it like a bull at a gate. We were in the Steering Wheel Club at about 10 o'clock one night when he heard that she was going out with Peter Twiss, the test pilot whom she later married. I dropped him off at her mews flat and according to Cherry he broke the door down and they had a stand-up row. Mike was impossible and I can't imagine any girl being married to him - he was so overwhelming. When he fell in love he wore his heart on his sleeve." - p244

"He certainly had a million girlfriends when I knew him." says Cherry. "He was not what I would call the world's most faithful boyfriend and that must be putting it mildly. It was pretty heartbreaking at the time. Yet he was very puritan in many ways; he was a good, middle- class boy and he didn't really like too much hanky- panky. I remember him telling me that he and Fon de Portago once went out with two beautiful girls and just when Mike was wondering which of them was going to be his for the night, Fon announced that they were not going to participate, they were going to watch! Michael was not at all impressed.

"All men who have a lot of women are, basically, men's men. Michael loved his men friends and he loved going to the pub with the boys. He liked women for the other things they could give him, but he loved the company of men. He tried to be very sophisticated about women and was quite incapable of being faithful to any one of them. Even so, I am very pleased that I had my relationship with him when I did, when I was young and impressionable. I knew him at the height of his glamour and that was lovely. He was a golden star of a man." - p244

"The young drivers in question were, of course, Peter and Lance Macklin and HWM's Chief Mechanic, Frank Webb, recalls that, "Their first aim at every practice was to compare notes after a few laps - not on how the car was going, but what the birds were like on every corner. Once they had formed some sort of consensus, the chosen ones were in our pit within a quarter of an hour and from then on we didn't see a lot of them......." - p244

"Roy Salvadori, however, is more generous in his appraisal of Peter's lady friends. "They weren't terrible looking at all. He had one or two crackers, but more often than not they were unusual - attractive in a weird way. And it was never the same girl twiice running. He was a very attractive and popular guy - it wasn't that difficult to date Peter!" - p245

"I saw Collins with the girl in the passenger seat! I got him in the morning and said, 'How did you get on?' ""Fine,' he said. 'she was inexperienced but enthusiastic. We started off on the bed and finished up in the wardrobe!'- p245

"Tears don't come easy to Eleanora Herrera, 21 year- old heiress and member of one of Argentina's grandest families.' 'wrote Peter Hahn in The Daily Mirror 'But her eyes were brimming when she told me: PETER COLLINS JILTED ME." - p245

"Immediately after the wedding, Peter denied that he had jilted Eleanora, as she had claimed. 'The report is ridiculous.' he told the Daily Sketch. 'I was engaged to her but we decided to break it off. Our engagement was never made public. Neither was the break-off. I couldn't be more sorry Eleanora is so distressed, but its entirely wrong to say I jilted her. I can't believe she misunderstood me' - p246

"Mike's inability to pass by a pretty face got him into trouble on occasion, too. His friend Nick Syrett recalls one such incident.

"We'd been to the presentation of the Ferodo Trophy at the Dorchester Hotel in Mayfair and had arranged to meet a couple of girls at The Steering Wheel Club at 8 o'clock. By the time we left the Dorchester it was 8-50, so we set off down Park Lane on foot and where the Hilton Hotel now stands was then a gathering place for ladies of the night. We noticed one in particular who was absolutely astonishingly beautiful and as we walked by she said, 'Hallo darling - want to come home with me?'

"This, of course, was irresistible to Mike! I tried to get him to move on as we were now almost an hour late for our date, but he was having none of it and protracted negotiations began. The girl wanted £4 (then the going rate) for her services and Mike - tight-fisted as ever - tried to beat her down to £3. After a lot of haggling the deal was abandoned and we finally made it to The Steering Wheel, where our ladies gave us a pretty frosty reception, having been kept waiting so long.

"We had a couple of drinks and then walked back to the Dorchester to collect the car and go on somewhere for dinner. The aforementioned lady was still on her patch and as we approached she looked Mike's girl up and down, then looked at Mike and said, 'See what you get for three quid!'

"The temperature between Mike and his girlfriend was already pretty chilly, due to our lateness and it now became very frosty indeed as she demanded to know the meaning of that remark. Mike tried to laugh it off, but by the time we reached the restaurant the temperature was well below zero and I insisted that our table for four was changed to two tables for two! Throughout the meal Mike was making frantic 'help me!' signs, but I just let him get on with it. My date and I eventually joined him and his friend for coffee." - p246/247

"Mike's last serious romance began in the Spring of 1958, when he started going out with 21 year-old Jean Howarth, one of London's top fashion models who worked for Hardy Aimes and John Cavanagh, among others. "I'd known Mike on and off for a while," she recalls, "because I had a boyfriend who lived in Farnham and we used to meet Mike in the local pubs. Our relationship started to get serious at the Goodwood Easter Monday meeting. "Behind the scenes with his mask off he was a very nice, quiet, loving homebody. He wanted to marry, settle down and have a home and children of his own and he was emphatic that he was not going to be a married racing driver - that would not be fair on the girl, who was going to be me. When he wasn't racing he liked to get up late on a Sunday morning, go to the pub for a few drinks and then come home for Sunday lunch. Afterwards he would put his feet up in front of the fire and watch the telly." - p247

"He was a very sensitive man and could cry easily. He was shattered by Peter's death and that made up his mind to retire at the end of the season. But smaller tragedies upset him too. He had a boxer dog called Grogger and one day during the 1958 Motor Show (or just after) we were having a drink with some friends at the Barley Mow at Tilford when Mike gave someone a run in his Ferrari demonstrator, leaving Grogger with us. When he heard the car coming back, Grogger ran in front of it and was killed. Mike was very upset about that and cried a lot." - p247

"Mike had proposed to Jean while they were driving from London to Farnham in his Jaguar.

"He asked me to marry him and, of course, I said, 'Yes!' says Jean, remembering that joyful moment with absolute clarity. With equal clarity she recalls how Mike - always the great romantic - then lobbed a king-sized rock into his new fiancée's placid pool of happiness.

"Now tell me." he said, "Do you have any skeletons in your cupboard?"

"No." said Jean, puzzled, "Why?"

"Because I do. I have a four year-old son in France." - p247

"He (Mike's son Arnaud) had fleeting memories of meeting him (Mike) on a couple of occasions, and of meeting Mrs Hawthorn not long after Mike was killed - but her interest in her grandson did not, it seems, last very long. Arnaud had not heard from her since he was a small boy and did not know if she was still alive. I was able to tell him that she was, but would not talk to anyone about her son, let alone her grandson." - p252

"It must be said that the fact that the Tennis Club was (and still is) private does not mean that Mike would have needed an invitation. He might have required one, but needed it....? No. As his old drinking buddies, the Members, well recall, Mike was adept at inviting himself to parties. If he saw some pretty girls through a window and heard the sound of clinking glasses, he was quite capable of walking in off the street and joining in the fun, his tremendous charm and that dazzling smile obviating the need for the formality of an invitation. It is quite possible that he was invited to the soirée, but he was for a few more days, anyway - completely unknown to the average citizen of Reims and so hardly likely to be there as a celebrity." - p253

"Jacqueline was enormously attracted to Mike at once, and vice versa." says Monique. "They spent every single moment together and Mike invited us both to be his guests at the race on the following Sunday. We told him that we were already going, with our father, so we agreed to meet afterwards. Of course, we had not the slightest idea that he would win. When we got home from the Tennis Club Jacqueline was terribly excited about Mike and talked about him non-stop." - p253

"By this time Cherry Huggins was Mike's girlfriend. She had recently learned to fly and Mike asked her to bring his Fairchild Argus over to Reims for him, which she did. 'I remember that there was a lady about who had Mike's son.' She recalls, 'I thought it was very irresponsible of him and I gave him hell about it. By that time he certainly had some pretty strong paternal feelings towards the boy,'" - p255

"From 1956 he visited Jacqueline every time he raced in Reims. Arnaud remembers seeing his father briefly in his aunt's house behind the cathedral. "My mother wanted me to be there to say hallo, but I refused at first as I was busy playing with my toy cars. I also recall meeting Mike at the circuit behind the pits, probably in 1958, and my mother told me that we went to England once to see him. We had a ride in his Jaguar, but I don't remember anything about that." - p255

"Stirling Moss suggested that as he was going to Miami, he should look up an actress of his acquaintance while he was there.

"I had met Louise with Donald Healey during the Nassau Speed Week the previous December." says Stirling. "She was a very beautiful girl and great fun, so I told Peter he could find her at the Playhouse."

On Monday, February 4, Peter duly called Louise and arranged to meet her that evening in the bar after the show. Little did Stirling know that he was playing Cupid in what was about to become a great romance! Naturally, Louise recalls that meeting as if it were yesterday.

"When I walked into the bar, Peter was already there and talking to Bob Said, whom we both knew. He obviously thought that Peter and I knew each other, too, because no introductions were made. We had a drink and then Bob suggested we all go out to dinner, but Peter said he couldn't leave yet, as he had to meet someone. I found this puzzling, as I thought he was there to meet me. 'Who are you meeting?' I asked.

""Louise King.' he said.

""You're crazy - I'm Louise!'

'We got over that and went out to dinner.' The following Wednesday afternoon I went to the motel where Peter and Mastern were staying and we were all sitting by the pool - Masten on my right and Peter on my left - when Peter asked me to marry him! I said 'yes' and we made plans in a couple of minutes of whispering and Masten never heard a thing.'- p260

"On Tuesday morning, Masten was in Kansas driving to his bowling alley, when he heard on the car radio that Peter Collins had got married. He thought that was a hoot - Peter had been out with me the previous week and now had obviously married someone else. He was furious when he learned that he'd been right there when Peter proposed" - p261

"As events turned out," says Gregory, "he was absolutely right. The marriage was a very good thing and Louise was a great influence on him in many ways. She was of a similar temperament and personality, free as the wind, full of fun and a very good-looking girl! I think she had a sensuous aura which attracted Peter - she was a very compatible and equal force and together they formed an even better force." - p261

"Their marriage in Miami was a joyous occasion, but for Peter it was marred by the stoney silence that emanated from his home. It was very clear from that dreadful transatlantic phone call that his parents (and his father in particular) were very unhappy about the union, but naturally, Peter had hoped for a congratulatory cable, at least, on his big day, It never came" - p264

"For the first time in my life I am able to realize what it means to really have someone for whom I have so much love, respect and tenderness that I'm afraid of things that may in any way spoil the happiness that we have found together.

I know that when you both meet Louise you will realize that she is not only a wonderful person but also so obviously right for me and I for her and I am sure you will both come to love her, not as much as I do because I don't think that is possible, but as a new and very fine member of our family." (Peter Collins letter to his parents) - p264

"I would like to say now that there is nothing more in this world that I would have rather had at our wedding than you and Mum but, well, I only wish I could put into words how much Louise means to me and now, after one week together even more so, if that is possible." (Peter Collins letter to his parents) - p265

'Just two months later, Stirling announced his engagement to Katie Molson, saying, "Of course I realise this is a foolish time to get engaged because Peter Collins has just got married and released a flood of crumpet onto the market and now I can't do anything about it!" - p266

'The Caribbean island was in ferment, as Fidel Castro was leading his rebel forces against the government and causing all kinds of trouble, so the Principal drivers Fangio, Moss, Collins and Castellotti - were all assigned heavily-armed bodyguards, Castellotti being informed that they were to keep the women away.... Peter and Stirling shared the attentions of an amiable giant named Chico, whose English was as fluent as their Spanish. On their first night in Havana, they managed to give him the slip and went to a boxing match. They had just taken their seats when a number of Castro's friends began firing their guns into the roof and in the ensuing panic several people were crushed to death. Moss and Collins made it to safety and were glad of Chico's company from then on' - p266

'At that time Tavoni had been working as Enzo Ferrari's personal assistant for seven years, so Ferrari had absolute trust in him and this more than made up for his complete lack of any racing experience.

He also lacked a proper knowledge of English, which was, of course, the lingua franca of motor racing. Mike Hawthorn welcomed his old friend to Sebring and decided to help him out.

"Mike said, 'Romolo, you must learn English with me, listen - Rosie, Posie, Pinkey, Pink, Shitty, Farty, Poopie, Stink. Repeat, Romolo!'

"So I repeat and he said, 'Good, now you explain to this gentleman's wife.' But Phil Hill was there and he said, 'No, no, stop Ferma!' It was the wife of Mr Alec Ullmann, the head man of Sebring!"

Just one of Hawthorn's little jokes......' - p267

'Louise remembers that dinner for a remark de Portago made at one point. With hindsight, he might

have been dictating his own epitaph. "Life has to be lived to the full." said the Spanish nobleman, who always did just that. "It is better to be wholly alive for thirty years than half-dead for sixty." The next day he was 'wholly dead' at thirty-one.

"Portago was a fascinating character," says Louise, "but I didn't find him attractive in the way that I found Taffy von Trips, Olivier Gendebien and Jo Bonnier attractive. He always seemed rough and unkempt to me - scruffy. Yet he attracted all these unbelievably beautiful women available women and lots of supposedly unavailable women too! He really was extraordinary in the way he got in and out of bed with an amazing number of females without others knowing about it. That man was so busy with women I don't know how he had any time for racing." - p271

"Phil Hill recalls that while Mike called Peter 'Mon ami mate' almost as a matter of course, Peter used it less frequently. At one time on the Saturday afternoon, Mike surely must have said the words with a hard edge to his voice, for Peter crashed his car!

Mike had been dissatisfied with the steering of his Ferrari on the Friday, so it was changed overnight. On the Saturday afternoon he found that the change made a marked improvement, but he was still not happy with the car's performance and asked Peter to have a go in it. 'Mon ami mate' promptly stuffed it at the chicane, piling head-on into a bollard on the very edge of the harbour and coming within an ace of emulating Alberto Ascari's diving exhibition of 1955. Mike was distinctly unchuffed at this, because that was his special, long chassis car and, clearly, it could not be repaired in time for the race.' - p278

'Wolfgang Graf Berghe von Trips was a handsome, charming, 29 year-old Count whose film biography - had it ever been made - could only have starred Robert Redford, who bears him a striking likeness. He started racing in 1950 and proved to be very fast, but wild, having numerous accidents. After a spell with the Mercedes sports car team in 1955, he drove for Porsche for most of '56 until invited to share a Ferrari with Peter Collins in the Swedish sports car GP at the end of the year. The two quickly became great friends and it was Peter who gave von Trips the nickname Taffy, "Because you look like a Taffy.' What the young German made of this irrefutable Collins logic is not on record, but the name stuck and Taffy von Trips went on to become a very popular member of the Ferrari team.

He lived with his parents in their ancestral home Wasserschloss Burg Hemmersbach in Horrem, not far from Cologne and, as he was back on his feet after his Nürburgring crash, Peter and Louise invited him out.

"He joined us for dinner with a beard!! Which makes him look about a million years old.'wrote Louise to her parents. 'He is feeling quite well but has to wear a big plaster cast all round his middle for about two more weeks. The beard came from lying flat on his back for a while and everyone tells him how terrible it is so it shall probably be removed shortly.

After dinner he took us to his house and showed us the films he took on his trip to the Americas this winter. We spent the night there and the next day met the family and took a look around the house and grounds. His home is a huge affair surrounded by two moats and parks, gardens, etc. During the war all the furniture and everything of value was stolen so its still in rather sad shape, but they've fixed up part of it to make it quite pleasant. Now we're at the Nürburgring again and getting back to our "routine weekends"!!' - p293

"He loved cottage pie, mince-meat, rissoles - never anything fancy," said Marge. "He used to sit with his knife and fork in his hands and say, 'flying start, Marge' and I would just put the plate in front of him and off he would go. Whenever he went abroad to race he would say, 'I'll be back on Monday for roast beef and Yorkshire pud.' He hated to be away for long' On rare weekends when he wasn't racing he would get together with Nick Syrett, who lived locally (and who would become Secretary of the British Racing and Sports Car Club in 1958). 'We had a Saturday routine." says Nick. "I would pick him up at the garage, we'd go to The Bush for a couple of pints and then on to Deeley's café in West Street for sausage, egg, chips and baked beans. Deeley's was a real 'greasy spoon' run by a Mr Wackett and Mike used to bring him matchbox labels from all over the world.

"After lunch we'd go to the cinema, irrespective of what was showing and then it would be back to the Duke of Cambridge for a few pints and a game of darts while we decided what we were going to do in the evening. Mike kept on devising these new games of darts which nobody but he understood. That was the whole idea, because it meant that he always won!" - p297

'Peter is now going through a change of life, or something, because he is talking more and more about stopping racing and building houses and raising little Peters and Louises. We've been searching the American housing magazines like mad and cutting out things, etc. I think we want to build a modern American-type house near Peter's home (and that's unheard of here). We have a piece of land about three minutes walking distance from Shatterford Grange that's on top of a hill, with a view both ways that goes for miles and miles.' Louise letters - p298

'It was an eventful journey. They arrived over Milan to find it covered in thick fog, so the plane was diverted to Turin, where they had to wait nearly three hours for a coach to take them to Milan. The coach driver clearly had something of the Kamikaze in him, for he kept trying to overtake huge lorries in the fog, which frightened the life out of Ken and Mike (one of the world's worst passengers).

After a death-defying trip they arrived in Milan to find there was no transport to take them to the railway station, where they were to catch a train to Modena. After walking a fair distance with their luggage, Mike spotted a taxi outside an hotel. They leapt inside, only to find that it had arrived to collect one of the hotel's guests. As they got out, Mike revealed that his years with Ferrari had taught him enough Italian to be able to question the taxi driver's parentage. The taxi driver replied in the same vein and Mike was all set to indulge in some serious fisticuffs until the driver produced his car's starting handle and the engine was already running.... Mike and Ken continued their walk to the station, eventually arriving in Modena just before midnight.' - p300

'Mike left the circuit early, to avoid the rush and - more important - to enjoy a couple of beers at a bar Ivor had found. Later, Mike returned to the motel where he, Peter and Louise, Taffy von Trips and Wolfgang Seidel were staying. He walked into the Collins' room and, finding that Louise had just run a hot bath for her tired, but victorious husband, stepped into it.

"He didn't say a word." remembers Louise. "He just got in, fully clothed and I'll never forget the sight of him lying there, tired and dusty, his clothes ballooning around him and his bow tie askew, as usual.

"He hadn't noticed that Paul O'Shea's wife, Robin, was with us. She burst out laughing and went into the bathroom to tease him. He pulled her down to him for a kiss and turned the shower on at the same time. She got completely soaked! Then Mike got out, carefully negotiated his way around the furniture and squelched out of the room. And he still hadn't said a word!" - p305

'A furious Hawthorn set off to walk back to the pits, only to be diverted by the sight of a beautiful blonde looking out of a window of the Station Hotel. Never one to miss such an opportunity, he asked her for a drink of water and she invited him in, so he clambered through the window, later returning to the pits in a much happier frame of mind' - p310

'Monaco marked the first anniversary of 'mon ami mate' and Mike and Peter continued to read the Four D Jones strip in The Daily Express avidly. Over the past year their friendship had become very close and an acknowledged feature of the racing circus, but what brought it about? In some respects it was clearly the attraction of opposites, for although both were bright, fun-loving personalities, Mike was very much the extrovert, who could be brash, loud and bloody rude when he felt like it, whereas Peter was somewhat introverted - quiet and with a much gentler character.

As their team-mate in 1957-58, Phil Hill became a close friend of both. "Peter was a great guy and always very helpful and friendly to me when I first joined the Scuderia in 1956, although our friendship had started in Argentina in 1954. I felt that he was a better-adjusted person than Mike, who seemed to have a defence mechanism built into his personality that Peter didn't have at all. He didn't find it as easy as Peter to open up to someone he felt he might be able to be friendly with. He wasn't nearly so approachable and he had a real temper! Mike could get really pissed off by something and become angry and irrational and darn near get physical. I remember leaving Monza one time and we were on the grass, driving past a line of stationary cars and there was an old lady on a bike in front of us and she just would not get out of the way. This infuriated Mike, so he gave her a push and she fell in a heap. She wasn't hurt and we drove on. Mike often got away with things like that." - p310

'The constant travelling meant that we were living in hotels, so our room became a home away from home for Peter and me, and for Mike, too. We had a refuge that he also enjoyed, so he would come and sit with us and he and Peter would get stuck into the endless supply of mystery paperbacks they had bought in Reims in 1957.

I became the den mother, constantly making tea for them, doing their ironing and sewing on buttons while they read their books. Occasionally I would cook for them, so I would be sent out to do the shopping. When we were in England or Europe I always had to buy The Daily Express, so they could catch up on Four D Jones. They called each other 'mon ami mate' and I became 'mon ami matess'.

"Their friendship never imposed on our marriage. Peter and I were really fantastically close, there was this tremendous bond between us and in the eighteen months we had together I don't remember anyone - certainly not Mike-interrupting that bond. The love we had for each other was so terrific and we were so close - physically all the time that no-one could come between us. It was not as if Peter went off to work every day.

"The three of us had a very nice, easy relationship. Mike was dear and we really enjoyed being together. His rudery was never directed at us usually at someone who got him a little off-base. He was boisterous and always funny, like the time when he climbed fully- clothed into the bath I had just run for Peter. I'm sure - that was just his way of releasing the tension of racing, which none of the boys ever wanted to talk about.

"Mike was always being pursued by various females and, of course, he did a fair amount of pursuing himself. When Peter and I were on 'Mipooka' in Monte Carlo harbour, Peter would often point out a pretty girl on the quay, saying, 'Don't you think Mike would fancy her?" For his part, if Mike met a girl he thought an old married couple like us would approve of he would introduce her, but if he found someone he thought we wouldn't like, he would go to enormous trouble to avoid us!

"I think our marriage made the relationship between Peter and Mike even closer than it would have been otherwise, because I was always there and I did accept Mike as Peter's very best friend. It was good for me, too, because I didn't have any close girlfriends during that time. I never got to know Katie Moss well at all, we were in different camps, but Harry Schell's wife, Monique, became a good friend. In the Ferrari team I was surrounded by delightful fellas like Phil and Taffy and Olivier, but next to Peter my closest relationship was with Mike, although he was never my confidant - I would never speak to him about a personal matter 1 wouldn't discuss with Peter." - p310

'Roy Salvadori liked both men enormously, but in his opinion, "They were possibly the worst pair of drivers Ferrari ever had! They were so friendly they weren't doing their best for the team. You used to see them following each other around, taking it in turns to lead, or tackle somebody, and you won't get results that way in Grand Prix racing. Can you imagine Peter sticking his neck out to beat Mike? It never happened, because it didn't matter to him whether he was quicker than Mike in practice or the race. They were so friendly they wanted to share everything, so they never pushed each other.' - p310/311

'The most important thing about Peter was that he had such an engaging personality. He could be infuriating, but it was literally impossible (even for me) to be annoyed with him for long. He could get away with anything just by turning on the charm, which never seemed to be forced or insincere. It seemed to illuminate everything he did and I never met anyone who was impervious to it." - p317

'By the time Peter arrived in Modena, Dino was also suffering from nephritis and his life was slipping away. Peter went to see him and the two young men born scarcely a couple of months apart formed an immediate rapport, as Romolo Tavoni testifies.

"Peter was a very good friend for Dino, because he was very sympathetic and understanding. Dino would say, 'Peter - are you going to the movies tonight?'

'No. I will stay here with you. Why?'

'Because if you go to the movies, tomorrow morning you can tell me all about it. I cannot get out of bed. I am like a small bird in a big cage.'

"So Peter would go to the cinema and the next day he would describe to Dino the movie he had seen. Naturally, this kindness created a very good impression with Enzo Ferrari and the Signora, although Peter did not do it for this reason." - p318

'At the end of June, Dino died. Enzo Ferrari and Laura were devastated, but at the same time they seemed to find in Peter a surrogate son and lavished kindness and affection upon him. Dino had had the use of a flat above the Ristorante Cavallino and not long after his death Ferrari insisted that Peter leave the Reale Hotel and move in. It is said that Signora Ferrari often made his breakfast and even took care of his laundry on occasion.' - p318

'"I got the distinct impression that the Old Man was looking to Peter to replace Dino in a sense - in an emotional rather than a family way. Peter learned to speak Italian well and often joined Ferrari for meals. He had arrived on the scene almost at the moment of Ferrari's greatest grief and I think the Old Man liked the fact that he was probably the least serious of all the drivers he ever had. He had this wonderful boyish, infectious sense of humour and he was always laughing. Ferrari was clearly very fond of him and they had a very good relationship." - p318

'Bernard Cahier is even more emphatic. "Ferrari fell in love with Peter and after Dino died he looked upon him as a second son. Peter enjoyed this relationship and spent much of his time at Maranello, but when he married Louise the Old Man became very jealous - he didn't like drivers' wives or girlfriends around at the best of times. A few years ago he told me that Peter was his favourite driver of all, but added, He would have had a wonderful career had it not been for that donna - that woman!"

Jabby Crombac has the same impression. "When Peter first went to Ferrari he was the darling of Enzo and his wife, Laura and when Dino died, Peter became the son they had lost, but when he married Louise, the climate changed immediately." - p318

'Throughout that year, whenever they were in Modena the Collinses would dine frequently with the Ferraris and Peter would spend a great deal of time with the Old Man. "They were certainly parental figures in both our lives." says Louise. "It is said that Ferrari didn't like it when Peter and I got married, but he never showed it to me. They were both very kind and always showed great warmth towards me."

Due to her lack of Italian, Louise's relationship with the Ferraris hardly extended beyond smiles, nods and gestures, but Peter arguably got closer to Enzo than any other driver, before or since. This intimacy brought fourth a remarkable result late in 1957, shortly before the Italian Grand Prix.' - p319

'Peter decided it was time to put their special relationship to the test. He went to see the Old Man and gave him a severe talking to.

"He felt that the root cause of Ferrari's unhappiness was the loss of Dino." says Louise. "He told him that he had done enough mourning; that he should stop living in the past (which he never did otherwise) and that he should pay attention to the racing programme and get it going again.

"Ferrari just sat there and said nothing, and I remember Peter coming back to me looking very worried. 'I don't think he'll ever speak to me again.' he said, 'I'm probably out of a job!"

What happened next astonished Peter and Louise. Ferrari summoned them both to his office, where he thanked Peter profusely for his advice and then made them a remarkable offer, as Louise excitedly informed her parents a few days later.

Ferrari has decided that he would keep us in Modena more if we had a nice place to live, so he has given us his villa near the factory at Maranello to use for as long as we want, They haven't lived in it since the war, so the day before yesterday we opened it up and started to clean the place. Its quite modern and we're thrilled to death with it. All we had to do was to open the windows and peasant-type people came screaming in to help. Peter has been getting some exercise getting weeds out of the driveway and I'm working miracles with soap and water inside. On the first floor we have two big rooms and a huge hall - both with marble floors - a small john and kitchen, and on the second floor three bedrooms, very big modern bathroom, a small room which will be a bar and a balcony that runs the full length of the house.' - p320

'Peter and Louise were in for another surprise. Enzo and Laura Ferrari arrived and presented Louise with a big three-diamond ring! 'We're still not quite sure why they gave it to me,' she wrote to her parents, 'but believe me, they got thanked good and proper. WOW!' - p320

'for a couple of weeks later Peter and Louise closed up the villa in Maranello and moved on board their new boat in Monte Carlo harbour.

That move was the beginning of the end of the special relationship. "Ferrari actually became jealous because Peter had escaped his clutches." recalls Jabby Crombac. "By leaving Maranello, Peter had deserted the family. He had become a traitor!"

So why did Peter leave? "He had become unhappy living under the Ferrari yoke at Modena." says Phil Hill.

"No matter who you were, when you lived there you had to toe the Ferrari line and like so many other people Peter became uncomfortable at always having to please Ferrari - for everything to have to go his way. Ferrari did everything he could to make Louise and Peter happy in that little house down the road from Maranello. He felt good having Peter nearby and he was not at all pleased when they went to live in Monte Carlo," - p320

'On their return from Le Mans, Peter and Louise stayed overnight at the Frensham Ponds Hotel, near Farnham, and spent some time with Mike and his mother in their house at Folley Hill, before heading North for Kidderminster. "The funny thing about that" says Louise, "was that Mike had complained bitterly about there being no headroom for him on our boat in Monte Carlo, yet in his own home he had to duck through every doorway!" - p321

'Peter was very upset about being dropped from the Grand Prix and that evening there was a pretty heated meeting between himself, Mike, Tavoni and Ken Gregory in the Collinses hotel suite at the Lion d'Or. "Mike took full blame for wrecking the clutch at Le Mans," says Ken, "but I was never sure that Tavoni believed him. Eventually, we persuaded Tavoni to talk to Ferrari on Peter's behalf and he phoned him the next day, with the result that Peter got his drive in the Grand Prix, as well as doing the F2 race." - p325

'Tony Rudd was there with BRM and he recalls having lunch at the Lion d'Or with Harry Schell. "He told me that he was going to have a good steak and a bottle of Beaujolais, then he was going to take his wife, Monique to bed for one of the best experiences of her life! During the meal, Mike Hawthorn passed by and whispered to me "Keep him talking!" Later, I learned that when Harry and Monique got to their room they found that absolutely everything had been removed, there was just a large vase of flowers in the middle of the floor. Then they found that they had been locked in.

"Harry kicked up such a spectacular row that next day the perpetrators carried his little Vespa car in off the street and up the stairs to the card room on the second floor, where they left it with a 'For sale' sign on top" - p325

'Despite the tragedy, the Grand Prix circus carried on as usual. That night Tony Rudd walked into everyone's favourite watering hole, Bridget's Bar, to be greeted by Mike.

""Glad you've come.' he said, and proceeded to wind a hosepipe round and round my waist before sticking the nozzle down my trousers. I managed to remove it just before he turned the water on!" - p326

'For his part, Peter apparently resolved to help Mike all he could in his quest for the Championship, as Sir David Brown recalls. 'Peter and Louise came aboard my boat in Monte Carlo several times before the British Grand Prix and I remember a discussion when Peter suggested that instead of hanging back and driving to finish at Silverstone, he should go flat out and tempt the opposition to chase him and blow up. He would either blow up, too, or slow down and allow Mike to go through and win. He asked me what I thought and I said, 'Its all right if it works.', but it didn't work. He led from the start, but his car did not blow up and he won!" - p327

'The Collins family returned joyously to Shatterford Grange, taking with them Tony Brooks and his fiancée, Pina Resegotti, whom he had met when the Aston Martin team was racing at Rouen in 1956. Peter booked them into a nearby hotel and was astonished when Tony asked for separate rooms. Pina laughs at the memory. "He was so impressed by that. To think that there were still some people who did not sleep together before they were married! He joked about it almost in amazement but in a very nice way. He respected our decision, although he obviously thought we were crazy. Peter had such tremendous charm and savoir faire. That weekend he spent some time trying to persuade Tony to join Ferrari - 'You will fit in so well with Mike and me.'" - p329

"Racing weekends in general were very social," recalls Louise "and when we went to the hotel lobby or restaurant it was always a time of high energy. Mike spent a great deal of time with us and I can't remember the first occasion I woke up to find him in our bedroom, looking down on Peter and me saying, 'Where's the tea?' Invariably he would join us for breakfast and he and Peter would bully me - there was never enough tea and while I was ringing Room Service for more they would drink up all the milk." - p333

'Meanwhile back at the start and finish area the racing fraternity was in a fearful state of uncertainty, as American journalist Denise McCluggage recalled in Auto Week:

'We didn't hear anything. We didn't know anything. There had been a helicopter, we were told. They had taken Peter to Bonn. And time stretched on.

'I don't remember whose room we were in at the Sporthotel under the stands, nor exactly who was there. Eight or ten others. We were waiting an understood but acknowledged waiting. Anyone close to racing is familiar with it. And in the meantime we talked and laughed. I was cutting Jo Bonnier's hair.

'Jo and I were the only ones facing the open door and we saw Mike first and froze and then everyone else turned and froze.

Mike Hawthorn was big and square-jawed and fair- haired. So fair. One of those English schoolboy faces that said "Goodbye, Mr Chips." to Robert Donat. He was still in his driving clothes - his dirty white pants, his green battle-jacket. His face was streaked. And tired.

'He didn't have to say anything. Slowly in his hands he turned a shattered brown crash hat we all recognised as Peter's.'

Mike went to his room and packed his belongings. He was then told by Artur Keser of Mercedes that Peter was seriously hurt and had been flown to Bonn. He packed Peter's and Louise's things and then, with Harry Schell, set out for the hospital in the Mercedes Peter and Harry had hired at the airport a couple of days earlier.' - p336

"They wanted to see Peter, so I went to the Reception and said, 'I am Tavoni of Ferrari and I want to see Peter Collins, who has been brought here by helicopter.'

"But you will see a dead man!' said the receptionist.

"I told her his wife is here and she wants to see him."

Louise was adamant. "I needed to see him, otherwise I wasn't going to believe he was dead." she says. "I think Mike and I probably still had a strong feeling that it was all a mistake. I remember going into the room and he was on a table of sorts. I just saw one foot and it was absolutely white. It could have been anyone's foot, but I finally knew. I didn't need to see anything else."

Tavoni remembers vividly that "The doctor pulled back the sheet and there was Peter, like he was asleep. Mike took one look, turned and went out into the corridor, where he leaned against the wall and slid down to the floor. He just sat there, saying nothing. I looked at Peter. There was a bruise on one arm and the skin at the back of his neck was very red, but that was all." - p336

"There were hundreds of people waiting to see us get off the plane." remembers Louise. "The observation platform at Heathrow was absolutely packed and the Press were everywhere. There was a special Press reception area and when Mike and I walked in it was like going through a tunnel of people. Mike spoke to them briefly and then someone produced a car for us and we drove up to Kidderminster. When we got there we were in such a state that we couldn't remember how to get to Shatterford, so we found The Black Boy at Bewdley and Alistair Wilson looked after us."

"They arrived here at about 7 pm in Mike's Jaguar." recalls Alistair. "Louise was in a bit of a state and stayed outside the pub having a couple of brandies. As Pat and Elaine were still on their way back from Dartmouth, she had arranged to pick up some keys for Shatterford Grange from the Lodge to the house, but neither she nor Mike could remember how to get to Shatterford from Bewdley. I led them over in my car and once they had got the keys I left them there to wait for the others." - p337

'Mike was absolutely shattered by the death of 'mon ami mate'.

"It really floored him." says Bill Morgan, who was still running the TT Garage with Mrs Hawthorn. "He talked about it frequently in the following weeks and it affected him very badly - he nearly finished with racing right there and then. On more than one occasion he sat with me in the office and said, 'Bill, I'm giving up. I'm getting the twitch."

He said much the same thing to Jill Hume-Kendall.

"He was in floods of tears and very shaky about the whole thing. He wasn't at all sure that he could go on racing." - p338

'I have never seen Ferrari as upset as he is now over Peter's death. He said that since his own son died he regarded Peter as his son and wanted to give us the villa and to give Peter part of the Ferrari factory. He was so much like Peter's father with so many plans for his future and now all that is just finished. Well, its wonderful that Peter did have that marvellous relationship with Ferrari.' - p338

'Mike decided to continue racing, feeling a deep obligation towards Peter, who had been trying so hard to help him win the title. His earlier decision to retire at the end of the year, however, was now set in stone as a result of Peter's death.' - p339

'The evidence that cleared Mike came, remarkably, from his great rival Stirling Moss.

"I spoke up for Mike because it looked as though they might disqualify him and I didn't want to win the Championship by default. I had seen him stall the car and I told him to go down the hill and re-start. But he wasn't on the circuit - he was on the escape road, so there was no question of him going against the traffic and I felt that he should not be disqualified.

"It cost me the Championship, but so what? It depends on which way you want to win it. I liked Mike so I volunteered the information. If it had been someone else I might have waited to see if I was asked." - p340

'Mike was staying at the Palace Hotel, in Milan, as was Louise, who realised with a jolt that the great friendship she and Peter had shared with him was virtually over. "With Peter gone, his attitude towards me changed completely." she says. "It was probably the simple fact that we were not three anymore. I went to his room on the morning of the race and we had tea together. It was a mistake. Later, we went to the circuit with some friends of his and after the race I saw him only very briefly before he was gone."

The friends were Michael and Noreen Irving Swift, who lived near Mike in Farnham and were holidaying in Italy, having arranged to go to the race with him. "When we arrived at the Palace Hotel it was about mid- day and he was still in bed." says Michael. "He wasn't looking forward to the race at all the Championship was really getting to him. Eventually five of us set off for Monza - Mike, Jack Dunfee, my wife and I and Louise. We all piled into Mike's Lancia Aurelia, which had no brakes as such, so it was quite a ride. Louise was holding together quite well in the circumstances, for not only was this her first race since Peter's death, but certain charming sections of the Press were trying to make out that she and Mike were having and affair, which was nonsense." - p343

'A week or so later, he took his girlfriend Jean Howarth to Paris, where he first admired the curves of the cars at the Salon and later those of the girls at the Saloon (Crazy Horse).

"There was one who did a reverse strip-tease." says Jean. "Mike found that very interesting! It was a great relief for him to get away from England for a few days. The long gap between the races made him very nervous and people would keep asking him silly questions about the Championship."' - p346

'Previously he had never come to my bedroom the night before a race, but he did in Casablanca. Most unlike Michael!' - p347

"You did it, you old so-and-so." said the gallant loser, who must have been bitterly disappointed to have won four races and still failed to secure the title.

An ecstatic Romolo Tavoni clapped Mike on the back.

"Next year we will do it again."

"I won't be racing next year." said Mike, "I'm going to retire."

Tavoni didn't believe him.

For the man who had just become World Champion, Mike was decidedly lacking in excitement immediately after the race. "He was quite strange - he didn't want to know anyone." says Jean Howarth. "He walked me away from the circuit with everyone trying to get him back. He just wanted to get to the hotel for some peace and quiet and he was worried about Stuart Lewis- Evans, for the news of him was not good. And Olivier Gendebien had had a big accident, too." - p348

'What should have been a glorious day of victory for Mike ended in a pretty downbeat manner, with everyone deeply concerned about the condition of the very popular Stuart Lewis-Evans. Mike, Jean and some friends decided to have a couple of drinks in their hotel room before turning in, but then Ralph Martin of Shell arrived and suggested they all go to a nearby night club and join up with John Cooper, Roy Salvadori, Graham Hill and Cliff Allison.

They went, but not before Mike had sent a cable to Louise, who was playing in 'Romanoff and Juliet' at the National Theatre in Washington, DC. Deeply conscious of the part Peter had played in his success, Mike gave Louise the good news:

'WE HAVE DONE IT MON AMI MATESS. WILL WRITE SOON. LOVE MON AMI MATE. MICHAEL.' - p348

"He walked into a wall of something he never expected all the fuss that went with the title. His idea of the end of season was to go splashing about in the mud on his motor bike, chasing girls and drinking in pubs, but now he was virtually under arrest from the time he became World Champion. He didn't have a moment to himself and he had no agent, no organisation to deal with it." - p349

'Mike and Jean spent Christmas with Mrs Hawthorn at Green Fields, on Folley Hill. It was not the most enjoyable of Christmas Days for Mike, as his kidneys were giving him considerable pain and he spent the day in bed. He recovered in time to spend New Year's Eve with Jean at nearby Wanborough Manor, but New Year's Day brought him something of a slap in the face Britain's first World Champion was not included in the New Year's Honours List! Nor was Tony Vandervell, whose Vanwalls had done so much for Britain's prestige and had won the Constructors' title. However, Stirling Moss, who had not won the World Championship, was awarded the Order of the British Empire.

The racing world was delighted for Stirling, who thoroughly deserved his honour, but the omission of Mike Hawthorn and Tony Vandervell from the list seemed like a calculated snub by someone. Nick Syrett phoned his friend to commiserate.

"I see your mate won the OBE, then." he said, with some sarcasm.

"Yes," said Mike, "Order of the Bald Ead."

And that was the end of that conversation.' - p352

"When Mike asked my father's permission to marry me he had not - understandably - said anything about his illegitimate son in France." says Jean. "I went home to explain that situation and the following weekend Mike was going to Paris to see his French lawyer and make some kind of settlement on the boy." - p353

"I'd been staying with Peter's parents at Shatterford Grange, and on my way to London I stopped and called Mike to confirm the time of our date at the Westbury. He sounded marvellous and said he would meet me at 3 o'clock. I'd hardly seen him at all since Peter died, so I was really looking forward to that afternoon." - p354

'Mr James Marks saw the crash from his house. He told The Daily Express; 'When the two cars passed me they were going at such a speed I knew something must happen at the bends they were approaching. They were neck and neck as they went by my house. I opened the window to watch. The Jaguar, approaching the bend, just could not get far enough over to the far side to negotiate it. It shot across the road and ended in a ditch.' - p354

"The car was on its side, wrapped around a tree....Hawthorn was barely breathing. He had no pulse. He was deeply unconscious. He possibly breathed twice, but it was too late to do anything." - p355

'John Coombs also called Bill Morgan at the TT Garage.

"He told me that Mike had had a spill and would I come down straightaway. I went to find Mrs H and we joked about it. 'Hope he hasn't done any damage. Then Coombs called again and said, 'Don't come here, they've taken him to the Guildford Hospital.' When we arrived there, someone came out to meet us and before he could say a word, Mrs H said, 'My son is dead, isn't he?'" - p355

'Not long after the funeral the surgeon who had operated on Mike in 1954 wrote to Bill Morgan to say that while his death was very sad, it was really for the best. He had died in an instant and without suffering, whereas had he lived it would have only been for another year or eighteen months, as his kidneys were deteriorating rapidly and would have caused him a great deal of unpleasantness before they failed completely. Their condition was incurable. Duncan Hamilton was told the same story by the man who had conducted Mike's autopsy.' - p359

[euphorajeon]

color you in | jjk

— pairing: boxer!jk x f. reader

— genre: fluff, slight smut | college au, boxer!jk

— word count: 3.1k

— warnings: long-haired, glasses-wearing jk, annoying and bratty oc, (shes just horny im sorry guys), neck kisses, tattoo tour by jk, a bit of past childhood story, all while jk does his coding assignment (again).

— summary: jeongguk just wants to do his coding assignment in peace. you won't let him.

— author's note: i wanted to write about jk's tattoo meaning since he shared such a personal thing with us.. but of course with boxer!gguk's oc.. that would be hard without some spice hahaha T_T tweaked some a bit to fit the non-idol nature of this jk. hope it doesnt take away the real meaning behind his tattoos :) enjoy!

masterlist | boxer!gguk masterlist

It’s ten minutes to six in the evening when you barge into Jeongguk’s bedroom to find him on his desk yet again, typing away at his laptop with glasses perched on his nose. The very same prescription glasses that made heat lick at your insides the last time you were here, a tool for his never-ending tricks of getting you to do what he wants. You’ve meditated after the events of that night to force your brain into thinking that Jeongguk in glasses does not look that hot for you to be drooling every single time, confident that you’ll get over them soon the way you got over his sleeve tattoos. One look at him now proves your efforts pointless, though, as he looks—for lack of a better word—even hotter in his glasses, black t-shirt (it’s not oversized this time!), and even longer hair than the last time you saw him.

How is it possible that you just saw him barely two weeks ago and his hair already reached his chin? (Which, combined with his glasses, makes him look so good you just want to jump him right here, right now—you already said that but whatever. Your boyfriend is hot. Period.)

Instead of saying hi like a normal girlfriend would, you climb into his lap sideways to tear his attention away from the codes on his laptop screen. Jeongguk blinks as he accepts the way your weight settles on his thighs, left arm wrapping around your body to prevent you from tilting backwards. You wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face in the crook of it, denying him of the eye-contact he tries to make.

“Hi…?” Jeongguk tries, the breath from his chuckle tickling the baby hairs on your forehead. “What are you doing here, babe?”

“Your mom let me in,” you mumble, not exactly answering his question.

“Yeah, she must have, I can see,” he muses, hands slowly going back to his keyboard to continue his assignment. “I suppose she didn’t tell you I’m doing my codes which is due tonight?”

“She did,” you hum. “She also told me to remind you to take a break and that dinner’s at seven. Told me I’m welcome to stay as well.”

“Sure you are, she loves having you around.”

“So you don’t?”

“I do,” Jeongguk chuckles. “But maybe not exactly right now. You’re warm, it’s distracting me from my codes.”

“That’s the point,” you say in a duh tone, turning your head to glance at his face. The light from his laptop screen reflects on the lens of his glasses, dancing across his brown irises in time with the speed of his fingers on the keyboard. You watch the codes go on and on for about five seconds before giving up, the array of symbols and numbers making your head spin. It’s amazing how his eyes stay unwavering behind the glasses, not at all bothered by the sheer amount of seemingly-random text on the screen.

“Why are you in glasses again? I thought you knew it does things to me.”

The way Jeongguk’s fingers halt their movement at once is almost comical.

“I’m … doing my assignment??”

You know your question sounds ridiculous and rethorical and your boyfriend’s reaction is a hundred per cent justified, but you don’t care. It’s his own fault for looking that hot in a simple getup of black t-shirt and prescription glasses, his own fault for letting his hair get so long it’s almost to his shoulder. It’s really his own fault that you’re repeating this monologue in your head, not being able to think straight anymore when your mind is echoing Jeongguk, Jeongguk, Jeongguk non-stop.

The jumbled thoughts in your mind manifests itself into you puckering up your lips to softly land them on Jeongguk’s skin, your first target being the mole on his neck. It’s one of your favorite features of his to kiss, to nip, to caress with your tongue until he’s a shuddering mess beneath your touch. You slowly trail your lips upwards to his jaw, to his cheek, to his sensitive ear where you give a small, almost playful bite with a faint scrape of your teeth. Jeongguk barely reacts, though, not even a hitch in his intakes of breath.

Instead of feeling upset, you feel more amazed at his self-restraint right now, being able to ignore his girlfriend literally sitting on his lap and peppering slow, sensual kisses on his skin. You decide to step up your game, brushing your fingertips against his skin to tuck his hair behind his ear so you can whisper into it and have your words be heard clearly.

“Wouldn’t you rather do me right now, Jeon?”

The way you let your lips faintly graze the shell of his ear is totally intentional, so is the huge sigh you let wash over the surface of his skin. Your lips go back on their journey down the side of Jeongguk’s throat, this time introducing your tongue to the equation that elicits a tiny shiver he tries to supress. His ever-so-solid resolve is starting to break and you’re happily opening your arms for when it crumbles down to the ground.

You’ve arrived back at the mole on his neck, wrapping your mouth around it before sinking down your teeth firmly on the flesh that (finally!) makes Jeongguk’s breath hitch. You continue your ministrations by licking over the bite marks, making sure to drag your tongue slowly over his reddened skin. When you start sucking on the spot to paint pretty bruises on his throat, a grip on your chin forces you to angle your head away only to receive a pair of lips over your own.

A contented sigh erupts from your chest, a sound you’re sure goes straight to Jeongguk’s nether region because he adjusts his position slightly, his left hand gripping your waist until your t-shirt is bunched up in his fist. In turn, you tighten your hold around his neck, preparing yourself for the onslaught of kisses you’re sure to receive from his warm mouth. Kisses that will lead to exciting events that involve you moaning out his name in pleasure.

Moan his name you do—in frustration in lieu of pleasure—when he pulls away from the kiss just as you were about to deepen it.

“Sorry, babe,” he says apologetically, a bit breathless from the onslaught of kisses you gave him. “But later, alright? I really need to get this done by tonight.”

Your response of quiet echoes in the room, your eyes glassy from both being clouded by lust and wanting to cry because that lust is not acted upon by your very hot boyfriend. The grip he has on your chin softens before he moves to craddle your cheek in his palm, stroking your cheekbone gently with his thumb.

“Hey,” he whispers. “I promise I will tend to your needs once I finish this assignment, okay?” When you’re still wordless, his hold on your cheek becomes firm, and you try to focus on his eyes while he talks. “Need you to promise not to distract me again, though. No orgasms if you do.”

“Nooo,” you whine, kicking your feet like a petulant child being denied a candy bar. You notice Jeongguk moving his leg yet again to adjust himself, a miniscule movement you’re sure he thinks will slip from your aroused mind. Little does he know your senses are heightened when you’re as strung up as you are right now, so you blurt out a fact that you both already know: “You’re semi-hard already!”

Jeongguk scoffs. “Yeah, your kisses are killer, baby.”

You continue to jut your bottom lip out, hoping it will be enough to change his mind. Jeongguk sighs, lips pulled into a straight line which makes the mole under his lip peek out, tempting you to lean forward to land a smooch on it. Before you have a chance to act out your thoughts, you’re halted by a firm grip on your shoulder courtesy of Jeongguk’s right hand. The hand that extends to a muscular, bulky, tattooed arm.

His tattoos. How could you forget about their existence only because of the twin lenses perched on his nose? How could you forget that before those goddamn glasses, it was those ink on his arm that made you weak in the knees? How could you?

Whatever words Jeongguk is saying right now sound like white noise to you, your eyes focused on the taut muscle of his bicep and the colored masks peeking from under his short sleeve. They seem to be dancing in your eyes, the blacks mingling with the colors contrasting the milky white of his skin tone, painting a beautiful picture with a story only he can tell.

When you speak next, you sound like you’re in a trance.

“Your tattoos … God, why are you so hot?”

Your boyfriend halts himself mid-sentence, round eyes blinking owlishly at your dazed expression before he follows your line of sight, chuckling when he realizes how focused you are on the tattoos on his arm. “Still loving the inks?”

You let out an affirmative hum, fingers slowly tracing the red tiger lily flower on his forearm. “You know … you never told me what your tattoos mean.”

“Really?” He lets go of your shoulder to fix his glasses before going back to his keyboard, fingers hovering over the keys and ready to type again. “I just assumed you already know some of them.”

“Well, just ones you got super early,” you say, grabbing his right arm to turn it around, searching for the tattoo you’re talking about. “Like this flower, and the Chinese saying on your elbow. And here … didn’t you use to have three stripes over here?”

“I did,” Jeongguk confirms, softly pulling his arm from your grasp to take your hand in his to offer a bargain and plead if he has to. “I’ll explain one by one, but you have to promise to let me do my assignment. It really is due tonight at eleven fifty nine, and I’m only about three-quarters done. Please, babe?”

You pout. “It’s not like I’m not letting you work on purpose …” The look Jeongguk gives you is enough to make you relent. “Okay, fine, I’ll just sit here and trace your tattoos while you explain and work on your codes.”

“Good girl.”

You refuse to admit those two words have such an effect on you that you have to hold down a shiver like Jeongguk did earlier. Instead, you move your fingers to trace your boyfriend’s skin once again, finally settling on the cover-up of the three stripes tattoo he used to have near his wrist.

“Okay, this one. Why a snake?”

Jeongguk stops typing for a second to glance at the tattoo even though he only has one involving a snake. “Oh, we start heavy,” he chuckles. “Uh … how do I say this? You know that snakes shed skin, right? They do that to give way for a new one, for me that symbolizes growth. So this snake is to say that I want to keep growing … to be a better person every day.”

“That’s very … deep of you,” you say, entranced. “What about this treble clef? Always wondered about this one, honestly, does it have to do with the fact that you used to sing in junior high?”

Your fingers brush against the musical note next to the snake, one that you remember being there since the start and didn’t undergo a cover-up.

The smile Jeongguk slips out is wistful, the way his thumb joins yours in caressing the tattoo tells you that this ink is one of the important ones for him.

“Do you see it connected to a chain?” His finger trails said chain, until it reaches a mic and further back to a clock he has near his elbow. “And it connects to a mic, then a clock with the time of my birth. It was three twenty-three, or three twenty-six? Yeah, around that time …” He continues stroking the numbers on the clock. “And you’re right. I’ve always wanted to be a singer ever since I was little, a fact I’m sure you know from all those years listening to me sing growing up.”

You do remember the times when he would sing all day, on the way to school, in between classes, on school functions, on the way home. There was never silence in your friendship, either filled by his wonderful voice or by the sound of you two bickering. You thought it was just a phase, because as soon as you stepped into high school, he closed the mic and started his rainbow-colored-tshirt phase. It never occured to you that it was a buried dream he kept alive by blowing on the dying embers.

“Why didn’t you pursue it?” Your whisper rings loud in the quiet room.

“Singing?” He shakes his head. “Too many obstacles, not enough resources. Wasn’t worth my whole life to pursue something too unclear.” His fingers brush the clock tattoo all the way to the treble clef. “This is just a tribute to my childhood, a reminder that once upon a time, there was Little Jeongguk who dreamed to sing. A reminder to keep that dream alive, even by mere inks on my arm. Who knows, maybe one day you could see me on TV, singing those crappy pop song with my melodious voice, charming everyone in town.”

Jeongguk grins, and that’s enough to tell you that he has made his peace with the situation. He taps the tattoo twice, motioning for you to continue tracing over them for new meanings and new stories.

Your finger points to the tiger lily next to the treble clef, one of your favorite tattoos of his. It’s drawn in a way that it covers three words behind it: Please love me, in bold capital letters. You wonder if the two has any connection or if it was just placed like that for creative purposes.

“It’s my birth flower,” Jeongguk starts. “Tiger lily as a birth flower symbolizes confidence, pride. I want to always be confident even in places I wouldn’t normally be, so this tattoo is just to remind me of that.” His thumb rubs over the red-orange flower fondly. “Plus, it’s pretty, don’t you think?”

“It is,” you agree, liking the ink even more after knowing the meaning behind the beautiful shape and color. You realize he missed the explanation for the three words behind the tiger lily, so you inquire with a swipe of your thumb over the black letters. “Does this have to do with the flower in any way?”

“Oh, yeah, I’ve read some people said that tiger lily also means ‘I dare you to love me’ or ‘Please love me’, so I put the two together like that,” he explains, a playful lilt suddenly present in the tone of his next words. “Kind of a nudge at you too, though, when we were going away for college and you still saw me as the scrawny kid who you’ve gone through childhood with.”

You groan. “Will you stop?? I didn’t know!”

“Well, to be fair, neither did I until too late into the college years where I couldn’t see you whenever I wanted like I had used to, so. There’s that.”

“So you just realized that you liked me after being away from me for, what, two years?”

“Yep.”

“Very late realization, indeed,” you muse. “So, tattoo tour, over?”

“You haven’t even gotten to my upper arm yet.” Jeongguk rubs over his bulging bicep all the way to his shoulder, sliding the short sleeve of his t-shirt upwards for you to get a clear view of his shoulder tattoo. “Oh, and my shoulder too.”

“Well, I’d love to, but you’ve gotten preoccupied with explaining your tattoos to me that you haven’t touched your codes for the past fifteen minutes.” You grimace while looking at the blinking cursor on his screen. “But okay, I’ll bite. What is that on your shoulder? I can’t ever seem to figure it out.”

“Supposed to be a moon,” he says nonchalantly, sliding the sleeve back down to block your view of the fading tattoo. It looks rather gray against his skin compared to the other black or colorful ones, the odd one out among the others. “But it’s kinda ruined now and I need to get it recolored or covered up, which I’m too lazy to do so it just sits there like that for now.”

“Recolored?” An idea pops into your head. “How about I recolor it for you?”

Without waiting for his answer, you proceed to lean over his torso to slide his sleeve back up before promptly sinking your teeth down on the flesh, eliciting a surprised yelp out of him. Soothing the skin with your tongue, you make sure to trace the drawing with that wet muscle of yours slowly, sensually, so he’s reminded of the reason you’re here in the first place.

When you start sucking on the reddened flesh, he lets out a shuddering breath while holding your waist in a vice grip. He doesn’t pull you away, though, so you see it as a green light to continue. Might as well take your chance while you still can.

After several more bites, licks, and sucks, you deem his skin colorful enough to pull away. You brush your thumb over the pretty artwork you’ve just done on your boyfriend, feeling proud of your “recoloring” work. “There, all recolored.”

Jeongguk lets out a huge sigh, resigned to his fate. “You’re really horny, aren’t you?”

“Very.”

“Still wet from earlier?” He lifts one eyebrow, challenging.

“Always wet for you, baby.”

“Fuck.” Jeongguk takes a glance at the clock before pulling his glasses off his nose. “We got ten minutes.” He leans forward to connect his lips to yours, this time not hesitating to use his tongue and teeth. His right hand slips underneath the band of your sweatpants, past your underwear to swipe at your clit before teasing a dip at your entrance, making you moan.

“Huh, was about to ask if ten minutes is enough,” he says before biting your bottom lip. “If you’re this wet we’re gonna finish in five.”

“Fuck, I don’t care how long, just stop teasing and make me cum already.”

“So demanding. Watch that mouth when I give you two back to back.”

“Was hoping you’d give me more—oh.”

It’s gonna be a really packed ten minutes.

a/n: jk's tattoo tour felt like a fever dream—but maybe that's just because i dreamed of him doing the exact same thing around 3 years ago.. anyway. really thankful that he decided to share such a personal part of his life to us :') any feedbacks (and maybe ideas for the next shenanigans this couple could pull off) are welcome in my askbox or here! thank you for reading :D

[citizenscreen]

Ricardo Cortez and Barbara Stanwyck in TEN CENTS A DANCE (1931), directed by Lionel Barrymore

[blankvort]

tangentially animal-related hcs 4 the mean girls crew bc i am now responsible for giving a goldfish daddy issues

cady

inexplicably allergic to dogs and always in the first four stages of grief about it. don’t @ me about the medical semantics i just want her to suffer a little

tried to get a job at petco the second she turned eighteen but learned of the above information in the most destructive job interview since janis’s application to be the local coffee shop’s cool gay barista (they were worried that she’d swear at fighter-jet-takeoff volumes if she touched hot coffee) (she did, but only because they started playing a shitty pop cover of one of damian’s fave show tunes) and came out of the building a puddle of mucous and tears

grossly fascinated by the grossest of primitive functions. her insta page is all dope and authentic until you find a selfie taken using the back camera 0.5x with the corpse of an effervescent snail and a bunch of reels telling you how to narrow down what bird species are destroying your garden by the splay of their shit

has a miniature aneurysm whenever movies get stuff wrong about animals. artistic liberties are granted to janis alone. like sure if she’s in the theater she’ll sit through the movie fisting popcorn down her throat but as soon as she gets out of there the entire mall becomes a soapbox for dissecting the bullshit sexual dimorphism of giving female animals eyeliner

thus while i know the headcanon of her loving the lion king is basically canon i think she’s absurdly secretive about it. like she’s burying her merchandise and blu-ray copies under her bed in the dead of night while secreting more sweat than should be possible. she could come out to her parents and elope to antarctica no problem but liking the lion king which implies that lighter manes = stronger lions is a death sentence

probably got banned from a bunch of zoos for interrupting field trips 

janis

had one of those angel/wolf/dragon/whatever hybrid phases as a kid like all good artists. did those like. not quite furry but not quite human animal art commissions on twitter for a while for the funnies but discovered a lucrative market and never turned back

does not know how to hold human or animal babies. like she’s good at taking care of them in terms of general physical and intellectual nourishment but that limp wrist is not supporting any necks properly

mercilessly makes fun of the whole “would you love me if i was a worm” trend. she doesn’t even love most humans what makes you think she has any answer for you regarding that other than that she’d turn you into a super deep art piece museums would purchase for exorbitant amounts

that being said she feels like a vivarium girlie to me. she’s nocturnal like a pillbug and post-canon constantly tries to convince the plastics that her pacman frog is poisonous

feeds her meticulously decorated ant farm gourmet meals every day. anyone else gets microwavable mac and cheese at best

this one probably won’t make sense unless you’re a jenny nicholson fan but she has a fake id for buying wine and turning the corks into those hallmark craft animal sculptures (and selling the open wine bottle to mrs george in back alleys)

damian

his grandma owns the most omnicidal chihuahua in the state of chicago. it’s how he learned to dance with such mental and physical dexterity. how else would he have survived visits to the nursing home

^ attempted to adopt the chihuahua’s children to have his own bruiser woods moment. turns out, even with his classically trained tenor voice, puppies and janis respond to the “drop it” command much the same way. that is to say they do not drop it and the puppies ran away with ninety nine per cent of his anastasia-inspired music box memorabilia

has a love-hate relationship with cats the musical. like memory is one of his top ten karaoke songs but he’s not going to admit it until he’s several fruity seltzers into the night. wishes all the actors in the movie had been replaced with real cats picked off the street before anything else was approved

played milky white in a scammy local production of into the woods and so so so embarrassed about it. he had to be on stilts the whole show

stuck a fish in regina’s backpack sometime in sophomore year but found karen feeding it and talking to it about her worst fears and greatest dreams felt too guilty to continue with the next phase of his plan (sticking a very hot picture of janis in regina’s backpack) (karen probably would’ve tried to talk to the photo too)

regina

musical specific but i think she didn’t Exactly do a matching animal costume with gretch and karen because 1) what can you dress up as when your friends are going as a cat and a mouse. cheese? 2) had cady not moved into the neighborhood, she’d have gone as a sexy lion to ease into the prospect of. you know. with shane oman but going as a sexy lion when your shiny new homoerotic frenemy has a lion pin on half her clothing isn’t quite a non-questionable choice

had a warrior cats phase she keeps under lock and key in the very depths of her closet. her closet is an iceberg of issues that goes shein -> homosexuality -> warrior cats and climate change is doing a number on it

fried a couple of janis’s ants alive with a magnifying glass sometime before middle school. she’s never flirted normally in her life

the bulk of janis’s furry commission clientele. she has so many emails for alternate accounts that she could get every american president ever suspended from twitter if national security let her. that’s including the dead ones

remember the nigh-rabid chihuahuas damian had. yeah she’s been raising those in secret for a few years now. mrs george doesn’t notice because regina hides them in her hair and extensions are, like, totally in or whatever

had a horse girl phase. all her drawings of horses came out like this meme tho. the art freaks nickname was born out of jealousy

gretchen

chose to be a sexy cat for halloween to match with karen because she has no sense of identity. also because she remembers regina’s warrior cats phase

actually a guinea pig person. i’ve never met a guinea pig person but she feels like one. they’re both in dire need of daily interaction and likely polyamorous

but also peri-canon gretchen could not keep a pet alive she’d spend every cent of the wieners fortune on buying the animal’s love

speaking of. her family bought a stable to fuel “her” horse girl phase. she just wanted to make regina happy and couldn’t stay on a saddle if there was an escalator that plopped her right on the horse

cares about the puppy bowl more than she cares about the superbowl

instinctively pets cute animals. if they bite her then she deserved it

karen

chose to be a sexy mouse for halloween because tom and jerry was having a media marathon and she’s into that sort of power dynamic

believes in unicorns more than she believes in horses. this is because she had a horse girl phase for the hottest of seconds before realizing that none of the ponies at the apache trail sale had horns and thought they had their horns cut off for aesthetic reasons

animals love her so much. survived a jellyfish attack because the jellyfish sensed she just wanted to pet something shiny and absolutely respected that. pests of all shapes and sizes evict themselves stat when karen says her mom doesn’t appreciate her hundred thousand dollar lotions being invaded by peril-bringing insects. strays follow her 24/7. gretchen is jealous (of the animals)

thinks tigers are very sick zebras

thinks blobfish are cuter when they’re all flesh putty out of their natural habitats but would also break into a zoo if she thought the animals were being mistreated

was banned from australia at the age of eight because she tried to have a sleepover in a kangaroo’s pouch

aaron

mean girls insta described him as a golden retriever so i’m also hcing him as being allergic to dogs <3 equality

becomes deeply fearful of all fauna after falling into a research rabbit hole for the sake of connecting with cady. what do you mean buffalo are some of the deadliest beasts on the planet and not just a type of chicken wing

kevin g

a preteen vsco girl in her granola advocacy era stuck in a teenage boy’s body. he has saved more turtles than any natucate volunteer by repurposing his rejected business cards to make a selfie stick long enough to stick him in the same selfie as gretchen wieners. the selfie stick has been in progress since daycare. he has also gone to the hospital more than any natucate volunteer do not trust this man with shop class equipment

[margotfonteyns]

Bewitched: Ladies Sing Rodgers & Hart

01 - Ruth Etting - Ten Cents A Dance (1930) 02 - Helen Ward - Blue Moon (1935) 03 - Maxine Sullivan - Spring Is Here (1938) 04 - Helen Humes - Sing For Your Supper (1939) 05 - Bea Wain - I Didn't Know What Time It Was (1939) 06 - Adelaide Hall - The Lady Is A Tramp (1940) 07 - Helen Forrest - Bewitched (1941) 08 - Lena Horne - Where Or When (1941) 09 - Hazel Scott - Dancing On The Ceiling (1947) 10 - Lee Wiley - Manhattan (1950) 11 - Betty Carter - I Could Write A Book (1955) 12 - Helen Merrill - Wait Till You See Him (1955) 13 - June Christy - You Took Advantage Of Me (1956) 14 - Peggy Lee - It Never Entered My Mind (1956) 15 - Jeri Southern - He Was Too Good To Me (1956) 16 - Ella Fitzgerald - A Ship Without A Sail (1956) 17 - Sarah Vaughan - A Tree In The Park (1956) 18 - Abbey Lincoln - This Can't Be Love (1956) 19 - Carmen McRae - Isn't It Romantic? (1958) 20 - Billie Holiday - Glad To Be Unhappy (1958) 21 - Blossom Dearie - To Keep My Love Alive (1960) 22 - Anita O'Day - Johnny One Note (1960) 23 - Nancy Wilson - Little Girl Blue (1962)

Bonus Tracks:

24 - Mary Lou Williams (piano) - Lover (1954) 25 - Dorothy Ashby (harp) - Thou Swell (1956)

Download: flac / mp3

[kaphzzz]

hi, https://www.tumblr.com/kaphzzz/718898842212433920 on the fifth photo you have arthur/charles in this position, just wondering how did you do that? what mod did you use? I’ve been trying to find an animation/scenario mod where you can put in two npcs (like dancing, brawling etc) for photos, and you’re the only person I’ve come across so far who seems like they have something like that :”) sorry if I’ve got it wrong!

hi!!! ur good!! you mean this one?

i use rampage trainer! it has thousands of scenarios and tens of thousands of animations! altho when i first got rampage it was missing a lot of its animation dictionaries for some reason so i had to write a parser to get the anims from a datamined anim file from the rdr3_discoveries github repo. if thats also the case for you heres the link to the full list i parsed that you can replace /RampageFiles/Lists/PedAnimList.txt with:

(on kind of a side note i think it takes away a bit of the 'magic', if u will, from ppl who dont play with mods looking at these kind of staged/posed pics without knowing exactly how they were forced into these positions (lol) if the process is laid out but nonetheless im happy to explain as best i can :3)

so in general since its pretty much impossible to know all 40000+ animations you just kind of try to find one that has at least one frame of animation that suits the pose you have in mind and just sort of play with it until you get a shot thats just right. for me i knew i wanted a pose for leaning back against the table and one for leaning forward with hands placed on the table, so for chorles i think i used (this was a while ago i cant remember exactly sorry!) one of the scenarios you get with key word "lean" and it was probably the lean back wall scenario, and for orther it was read train plans or bank teller lean on counter... but yeah in general you kind of just have to browse through thw scenarios and animations and keep track of interesting ones you might want to use later, and try to match the anims (if they move around a lot) to get a good snap of when they are in a position you like!

idk how others do it but thats how i do it. probably not the most efficient workflow but i have yet to browse thru all the anims so i can only work with the anims im familiar with.

if you want dancing, try searching for related keywords. rampage allows you to search for keywords for both scenarios and animations! once ur familiar with how they name their animations you should be able to find just about anything. for dancing just searching for "dance" should prompt quite a few results.

as for brawling i think actually making ur characters fight would be the best way to take action pics. in rampage u can also change ur model and spawn npcs and force them to fight u. u can also get the battle creator mod to spawn fights as well.

btw if ur looking for anything similar to this specific pic, i actually think @foundynnel might know more about intimate/suggestive animations and scenarios given some very cute sadie/arthur pics they've made, hiiii @foundynnel sorry to bother u but if u see this would u like to throw in ur two cents? 🥺🌹 i could learn a thing or two as well! 💕

[dragonclawfromspace10]

(I know it's kinda strange to put a colored version first, and then an uncovered version second, but the papered drawings are separate and easier.)

Name: Sunshine Samuel Cole

Alais: Sunny, Kiddo, Buddy, Brother, Bro, Sun Absorber, El Dorado

Likes: Hanging out with family and friends, pranking with Ten Cents, relaxing in the sun, animals and critters, lemons, money, singing and dancing, working hard, horror movies, doing the right thing

Dislikes: Bullies, being short, real horror, his father smoking, doing the wrong thing, tree logs, the dark, having allergies

Powers/Abilities: Transforming into a tug, super strength and agility, super sonic shreik, shooting fireballs from his mouth, intelligence

Biography: Sunshine once lived Up River with Billy Shoepack, who he was good friends with.

Capt. Starr saw greatness in him, and hired him to join the Star Fleet to help with the extra work. That was then him and Ten Cents became best friends, and helped to bring Dutches in while Big Mac was unavailable. Unaware of Zorran sneaking up on him, he crashed into Dutches's rudder, which left a small scar on his bow. Becoming depressed about his failure, he ran away and tried to head back Up River in the fog. To his dismay, he crashed into sandbar. Thinking that these were his final moments, Ten Cents and the other Stars found Sunshine, and told him that it was Zorran who pushed him. Happy to hear that he didn't fail, the others took him back home to heal, and he became an honorary new member of Star Fleet.

Personality: He can occasionally be cheeky at times, but is strong-willed nonetheless. He is quick-witted and takes action swiftly without hesitation. He is generally level-headed and cheerful, and takes on most jobs with little complaints. He also has a crush on Sally Seaplane.

He is very bright, which can also mean intelligent as he's able to quickly figure things out, such at when Ten Cents's hooter was the coincidence for Boomer's jinx, suggesting a cause-and-effect relationship.

In early stages of his life, he was less obedient and liked to do things like Billy Shoepack did. However, upon growing up, he wanted to feel more useful, and that's one of the reasons why he joined Star Fleet.

Relationships: Ever since his first day in Bigg City Port, he had gotten along with almost everyone, including his fellow Stars, and his "big brother" Ten Cents. He was afraid of the Z-Stacks for a while because of what Zorran did, but he soon grew a little closer because of his father, Zak.

When he met Zak and discovered he was his father, he was overwhelmed and hurt that he was the one that left him on Billy's doorstep as a baby, and that he didn't do anything to stop Zorran from bumping into him. But because he's a very forgiving boy, he was willing to come closer to Zak, and refer to him as "Dad". He was dismayed that Zak didn't want him to tell the others yet as he was excited to tell his fellow Stars. So far, Ten Cents had been the only one Sunshine revealed to about Zak and made him promise not to tell the others as he had a hard time keeping secrets.

Obvious enough, Sunshine developed a crush on Sally Seaplane and is currently too shy to express his feelings towards her. Everyone is aware of it, even when he does his best to hide it.

[averageschooltheatremoments]

Actual goddamn things people said/did during my school’s production of Newsies

Stage crew writes “troll strike” instead of “trolley strike”

Ensemble: “Every small child is going to think you’re an evil old man.” Pulitzer: “Well maybe I am”

“See kid? Women have legs too!”

“Romeo we can see you dancing backstage”

The villains and Theodore Roosevelt dancing

Davey: “This day will go down in PISSTOR- I MEAN HISTORY”

“If I drop my cello, PLEASE kill me.”

*holding glass upside down* “TEN CENTS FOR A GLASS OF SELTZER??!”

Davey: *Points at painting of Santa Fe* “Is this Arizona?”

Davey and Spot Collin keep shaking hands and then pretending to kiss

PULITZER KEPT ALMOST FALLING OFF THE STAGE

*backstage* “Uhmmm…why is there a box of dog food here?”

Jack: “You got a name, Katherine?”

Katherine: “Just think, while my father is…slipping??…we’ll be…taking him down!!” (She was great I wish I got to know her better before she graduated)

Spot was Pulitzer’s backup so when Pulitzer was sick the final confrontation scene was…interesting.

“OH I get fishnets :)”

Katherine: “And if I was a boy, I’d be…looking at you through one swollen eye!!” (It’s supposed to be “you’d be looking at me”)

Nun: *running around backstage* “I’m a nun on the run”

“I just don’t think committing suicide would be very fun y’know?”

“YOU CAN’T JUST PUT FIRE ON THE FLOOR!”

*Ensemble Newsie falls over* Weasel: “…Guess I have to” *pretends to kick them*

Jack drops all of his coins everywhere all over the stage

Jack: “You bet! Me n’ the boys will take a Journal over to the hike!”

Jacoby: (to a Newsie) “Don’t swing that aroun-“ *Does exactly that and spills a glass of water* “Oops.”

Davey: “Inspirational Speech time guys”

Les: “Are you kiddin’? She got no legs on!”

Pulitzer: “An escaped thief and petty…thief.”

AT THE END OF THE SHOW THE SENIORS GAVE THE BAND TEACHER A PINEAPPLE???

[sonofarathorn]

Lessons Learned

Pairing: Frat Boy!Billy Russo x F!Reader Word Count: 1.8k Warnings: Smut (18+ only). Mentions of Alcohol. Unprotected Sex. Spanking. Orgasm Denial. A/N: Here is my fashionably late submission for @33max's writing challenge. I've had this concept in my head for quite a few months, so it was very fun getting to finally write it.

SUMMER OF CUM: DAY TWO - ORGASM DENIAL

The frat house is loud, and packed to the brim. People in varying stages of sobriety laugh and talk in small groups, their fingers wrapped around red Solo cups and silver cans of cheap beer. Music blares from large speakers, and sweaty bodies twist and grind, spellbound by the pounding bass.

You can hear people standing outside the bedroom door, laughing and talking. Constantly in competition with the trashy pop; shouting for their anecdotes, gripes, and flirts to be heard. 

It’s not the most ideal time or place to fuck. Hidden in Billy’s shared room with a crowd of people just outside. Bent over his lofted twin bed, hoping the squeak of the springs can’t be heard over the din of the party. 

Not that you can really complain about time and place, it’s your fault you’re in this position…literally. 

You just had to dance with Brad–or was his name Noah? Had to let Brad-Or-Noah feel you up while you grinded against him. And had to throw heavy-lidded looks and smirks Billy’s way the entire time. 

Well, you poke a bear, you deal with the consequences. The consequences: being fucked into the mattress while 50 Cent played in the background.  

Not that you were complaining. This was the kind of trouble you loved to get yourself into. The kind of trouble that would leave your legs like jelly, and your body filled with a warm, gooey feeling. The kind of trouble that would instantly replay in your mind with just a glance at the shallow teeth marks on your shoulder, and the tender bruises etched into your hips and thighs in the shape of ten perfect fingerprints. 

“Fuck, Billy,” you mumble, as he rolls you onto your stomach. 

Billy groans, and pushes the folds of your dress higher up your body. His hands slide up your side, and he squeezes your breasts. “You just had to wear this dress, didn’t you?” He asks, tweaking your nipples. “You know what it does to me.” 

Yeah, him and every other guy and girl in the near vicinity. 

“Think you did it on purpose,” Billy says through gritted teeth. “Just like I think you danced with Jason on purpose too.” 

“Oh, was that his name?” You ask, smirking at Billy over your shoulder. “I just picked the second hottest guy in the room.” 

You’re rewarded with a sharp smack to your ass. You bite your bottom lip, muffling the cry that rips from your throat. Billy smirks, and spanks you again. This time you can’t help the reedy moan that leaves your lips. 

Fuck, you loved getting him all riled up. 

“Ya trying to make me jealous, baby?” He rubs the sting away. 

“Depends. Is it working?” You raise an eyebrow. 

“No,” he says, cooly, and his hand slides around your body to tease the waistband of your underwear. “Can’t be jealous of him. He doesn’t have you in his bed right now, does he?” 

“You don’t really have me in your bed either. More like bed-adjacent.” You grab his wrist and press his fingers firmly against your clit.

Billy chuckles and rubs slow circles, earning him a small moan from you. “That’s the game we’re playing tonight?” His other hand slides up your back and fists in your hair. 

You groan when he tugs your head back. “What game?”

“The game where your mouth gets you into trouble, and I have to punish you for it.” He nips your ear and your clit throbs. “Keep talking, sweetheart. We’ve got all night.” He lets you fall forward again. 

Your cheek hits the cool comforter. “Just wanted your attention.” 

“Easier ways to do that, honey. Could’ve just asked me to dance.” He deftly unbuckles his belt and pulls it through the loops of his jeans. 

“It’s more fun this way.” 

Billy hums and pops the button of his jeans. “That right? How so?” 

“Cuz I get to see that cute little furrow between your eyebrows when you frown,” you say and Billy scoffs. “The one you’re wearing right now. And then you try to play it off, but I know deep down you want to grab my arm and drag me to some back room. And well...look at us now.” 

“Y’know me so well, huh?” Billy rocks his hips forward, pushing his half-hard cock against your ass.

You grind back, smiling at the small huff he lets out. “Mm-hm. It’s why we work so well together.” 

He’s quiet for a moment, and you know the thoughts he’s cycling through. The drunken one night stand your junior year of college that turned into a series of late night trysts by second semester. What started as stress relief evolved into a routine of sorts. Have a bad day. Text Billy. Fuck Billy. Feel better. Rinse and repeat. And vice versa. It was hard not to get addicted to the familiarity of it. 

Billy shakes it off after a second, that easygoing mask he wears so well slipping right back into place. He pushes his jeans and boxers down to his ankles. “And what am I thinking now?” He spits into his palm and slowly strokes his cock. 

“You want to fuck me.” You grin.

He shakes his head. “Too easy.” He pulls your underwear to the side, and runs two fingers through the slick gathered on your cunt.

“Yeah, but you were thinking it.”  

Billy pulls your hips back to meet his. “You got me there,” he mumbles. “Can’t really blame me when you look like this.” He slowly thrusts into you. 

Your fingers twist into the material of his green and grey comforter, a low, drawn out, moan sliding out into the room. His cock feels amazing, filling you with a warmth that makes your toes curl. You bite your bottom lip, letting the little ripples of pleasure roll over you as Billy stretches you open.

“Fu-uck, you feel good,” he huffs in your ear. Billy curls himself over your body, trailing light kisses up and down your neck as he fills you with deep thrusts. “Love this fucking pussy.” 

You whine his name quietly. 

 “All that hard work you put into getting here, and now you’re quiet.” He bites your shoulder. “Don’t get all shy on me now, baby. You did it. You got my attention, now what?” 

“Fuck me,” you mumble. 

Billy raises an eyebrow. “What was that? Can’t hear you, sweetheart,” he teases.  

“Want you to fuck me.” You say clearer. 

“Me?” Billy asks, pulling all the way out just to thrust back into you sharply. “You sure, baby? Sure you don’t want Jason or some other guy out there to fuck you instead?” 

You shake your head. 

He clicks his tongue. “Use your words.”

“No. I don’t.” 

“Who do you want, honey? Who makes you feel good, always leave you wanting more?” His fingers find your clit again. 

“You.” 

The bed frame shakes and squeals as Billy fucks into you harder. “Say it louder.” 

You hesitate and look up, eyes fixed on the very unlocked door across the room, and the drunk co-eds that linger beyond it.  

Billy tugs your head back gently, lips ghosting over your jaw. “I don’t fucking care who's out there. I wanna hear you say it.” He rubs your clit harder. “You want me or one of those assholes?”

“You,” you cry, squeezing your eyes shut. “I want you.”

You’d be mortally embarrassed of the volume of the sounds you're making if you could think of anything other than the way Billy’s cock rubs against that heavenly spot inside of you. He always knows how to work your body, doing exactly what it took to turn you on, while other guys you’d been with fumbled around ineptly until you faked an orgasm just to get it over with.  

 But not with Billy. Billy never left you anything but satisfied. 

“Why me? Why not Jason?” He asks, as if reading your mind. 

“Because you fuck me s’good. S’fucking good.” you babble, your voice rising. 

Billy groans loudly. “Yeah I do.” He bites your shoulder. “It’s my cock you love, right? Feels good, don’t it?”

“Yes. Oh fuck. I love it when you fuck me, Billy.”

“That’s it, baby. Say my fucking name.” Billy groans. “Sounds so pretty when you say it like that. All fucked out and shit.” He buries his face into your neck. “Goddammit. You’re gonna make me come.” 

Your cunt clenches at Billy’s words and he snaps his hips forward with a groan. 

“Christ. You want my come, sweetheart? “ He groans low and gravelly in your ears, the rhythm of his thrusts growing more erratic.

“Please,” you nod, your own pleasure growing more intense. Bright and bubbling up inside of you, starting low in your stomach and spreading out to the tip of your fingers. Right there, just waiting for you to reach out and take it.  

And just when you’re about to surrender to it, Billy pulls out.

“Shit,” he moans, wrapping a fist around his cock and stroking himself. 

You whine at the sudden loss of contact, and fit a hand between your thighs. 

Billy’s hand comes down on your butt with a crack! “Don’t,” he snaps. “Don’t you dare touch yourself.”

“What the fuck, Billy? I was so close.”

“I know.” His raspy chuckle is cut off by another groan. “I told you your mouth was going to get you in trouble. You think you can tease me all night and get away with it? Oh, honey.” He shakes his head. “You hurt my feelings, and you didn’t even say sorry. Can’t have that.” 

“I’m sor–” 

“Too late for that, baby.” His squeezes his eyes shut as he tumbles over the edge. “You gambled and lost. Shoulda–fuck–shoulda just asked me to dance.” 

He comes with a deep rumble, spilling all over his hand and over your ass. Billy slumps against the bed beside you, a devilish grin on his face. He takes his hat off and brushes the strands of hair from his face. 

You frown at him, still partly in shock from your ruined orgasm. Anger replaces surprise as your heartbeat settles down in your chest. Your wide eyes turned to slits.

Billy brushes his thumb over your pouting bottom lip. “Aw, honey. Don’t be mad at me. Had to teach you a lesson.”

“You're a dick.” You fix your underwear and dress. “And just so you know, I’m just gonna go home and get off anyways.” 

"Gonna use that vibrator I got you?" Billy asks.

"None of your fucking business," You scoff.

“Yeah? Who are you gonna think about?” He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Definitely not you,” You snap, even though it was complete bullshit. 

Billy smirks, catching you in the lie. “It won’t feel as good as me.” He tucks himself back into his jeans and buttons them up. 

He’s right.

“I hate you,” you say, but there’s no real malice. Only mild annoyance. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Maybe even earlier.” He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you close. Billy slots his lips against yours, his tongue darting out to tease yours. He pulls away slowly, tugging your bottom lip between his teeth. 

“Text me if you need me,” he whispers. 

Then he’s walking out the door, leaving you frustrated as hell.

Asshole.

[alacetor-the-duckies-deer]

A very Angel Dust song for you all

[bruhstation]

Can you elaborate more on ten cents feelings towards captain Star?

I understand ten cents wants to have freedom and independence like his older teammates. But does he feel like captain star doesn't trust him to make decisions on himself?

Does ten cents feel like he needs to prove himself?

pretty much. ten cents does love captain star and does whatever he is told but because of his firm stance on his personal agency's importance and no-nonsense attitude, he often questions if working under captain star's watchful eye is going to be his fate for as long as he imagines. "is this how I'm going to live for the rest of my life?" "when will things change?" "I'm so bored. there's nothing fun to do."

ten cents is mostly content with the life he has but he wishes he could at least know what it feels like to live a "normal" life like boys his age (going to school, taken to restaurants with their family on sundays, playing in the afternoons, drinking and dancing and going out at nights). he wants to know what it feels like to not be questioned everytime he spends his own money or goes to other places or meets people outside of the star fleet (zip and sometimes boomer) without telling captain star beforehand.

captain star trusts ten cents.... most of the time. the thing is that he has a habit of jumping to conclusions when he gets concerned or too tired to think rationally. he's critical of ten cents' wellbeing and wants him to live a honest, compliant, and disciplined life (and also his own because he rarely talks about his past) because being a ww1 veteran, captain star has seen firsthand how uncertain and depressing the futures of many children and young adults were and doesn't want the same thing to happen to ten cents. however, captain star is not equipped to take on the role of a ""father figure"" to ten cents and often comes off as authoritian rather than fatherly or patient in ten cents' eyes.

ten cents views captain star's questioning attitude and quickness to jump to conclusions as slightly endearing at best and extremely annoying at worst. captain star has good intentions but his ways of doing it don't sit well with ten cents. both captain star and ten cents are equally as stubborn and VERY firm in their personal beliefs on freedom/lack thereof which overshadows their care for each other. "I'm trying my best and doing this for your own good. can you try to understand me." vs "I get it already so can you stop nagging me. can you try to understand me". truly the healthiest "father-son" relationship in bigg city port, just below captain zero with zip+zorran