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itsallyscorner · 3 years

Note

Can you write a little mix member x avengers cast?? Maybe?

Hello love! Thank you for the request, I apologize for taking so long to work on it! I’ve written this as a headcanon, since I haven’t done any of those in a while. I hope you like it❤️

💌.

The Marvel Cast Finds Out You’re In Little Mix

Why is this lowkey a crack fic/headcanon😭💀

Alrighty so, I feel like they probably wouldn’t know you’re part of a band or who Little Mix is.

Since SADLY, the girls aren’t as big in the States as we’d like them to be:(

The people who definitely might know you are ✨The Brits✨ and Scarlett because she has a young daughter who probably listened to Wings or something—kids find everything on the internet these days.

Working with Marvel was your first acting gig; so none of them knew anything about you or if you’ve been in other films, etc.

Except for Tom Holland, who was lowkey fangirling at the fact he gets to work with one of the Little Mix members.

Side note: he’ll be deeply offended when he figures out the others don’t know about Little Mix or that you can sing.

The rest of the cast (RDJ, Chris Evans, Anthony Mackie, Seb, Lizzie, etc.) had a hunch that you were some kind of writer.

You were always humming to yourself and writing in your notebook or typing down notes in your phone when something came to mind.

Though they didn’t pry at your business because—well, it wasn’t their business.

They could find out about your other job through many ways. Maybe you guys are doing promo and some interviewers mention the band and things about a new album, to which most of them were confused about.

“So (Y/n), I know this is your first time acting. How different was it from performing on stage and acting on camera?”

Everyone’s attention would be on you (this is a panel btw) Mackie’s looking at the back of your head in confusion, Robert fully turns in his seat to look at you, Lizzie is also curious, Evans is looking between you and the reporter—everyone is just confused.

“Performing on stage? Did you do Broadway (y/n/n)?” Evans asked. Tom (Holland) scoffed shaking his head, disgusted to be part of this group of uncultured swines.

You chuckled and shook your head, “No, I’m a singer. I’m part of a girlband.”

The whole cast gasped in shock. Mackie let out a loud “WHAT?!”. Robert leaned even closer to you trying to see if you were lying. Others whispered amongst themselves asking each other if they knew.

Tom (Holland) just sat back watching everyone’s reactions along with you. Amused at the amount of questions that were suddenly being thrown your way.

He’d also be quick to add, “NOT just ANY girlband, but the biggest girlband on the planet.”

For clarification, Tom’s a very proud Mixer.

Scarlett finally recognized you, knowing that she’s seen you somewhere before, but could never put her finger onto it. “Wait you’re from Little Mix!”

“THANK YOU! FINALLY SOMEONE WITH SOME TASTE!” Tom yelled, dramatically turning to Scarlett.

After the initial shock, everyone was very curious. They wanted to hear your music, wanted to know the other members, when your next tour was—they were very ecstatic.

When you guys finally reached London for the press tour, there was a lot of hype for Little Mix because you guys were going to finally reunite after months of being apart.

The girls were allowed to visit set, but since you guys were working on your new album, they were stuck in London. You were relocated to Atlanta, filming an Avengers movie and working on the album via FaceTime/Zoom.

You and the girls reunite the same night you land in London! As tired as you were, the five of you hung out in your hotel room.

You were all excited for the days to come. Not only were you doing promo for the movie but you and the girls were going to be performing again on night time talk shows and were having a Live Lounge session with BBC Radio 1.

The panel of the cast discovering you were part of a band went viral. Many of the fans couldn’t believe they didn’t know about your other job.

There were even edits going around social media of the cast looking clueless and or reacting to your ‘secret’.

Then there were ones like “Tom Holland being a Mixer for 10 minutes and 57 seconds straight”.

Your favorite one was where they zoomed in on everyone’s confused expression while that one Nicki Minaj song played in the background.

It was mentioned in almost every interview after it went viral.

“So none of you had a clue that (y/n) was also a singer? Like at all?”

“I didn’t even know homegirl could sing, matter of fact I never imagined her to be in a girlband.” — Anthony Mackie

“I had a hunch that she was a musician or artist, but no one ever listens to me.” — Chris Evans

“(Y/n)’s in a girlband? Since when?” — Paul Rudd

“After we found out, I listened to all six of their albums on the flight here.” — Elizabeth Olsen

“Of course I knew, my music taste is immaculate compared to the others.” — Tom Holland

“Shut the fuck up, Tom.” — Anthony Mackie

“I really enjoy Black Magic, it reminds me of Wanda.” — Paul Bettany

The cast was so eager to hear you sing and watch you perform with the girls.

They finally got to do that when you invited them to the Live Lounge session. They also got to meet the girls.

You were very happy at that moment; seeing the two groups of people you love meeting each other and getting along meant a lot to you. It gave you a lil warm tingle in your heart.

Since there were no fans in the studio, it was only you and the girls, the band, and a bunch of the Avengers.

While the cameras rolled and you guys were performing, they were crowded together behind the scenes. Some of them were sitting on the carpeted floors or standing against the walls.

They were absolutely stunned when they heard you sing. You had a powerful voice that ranged from high to low, something they never expected of you.

When they heard you and the girls sing or harmonize with each other, it was like they were all in heaven.

“They sound like angels.”

“My ears are tingling, but like in a good way.”

“Seriously, how did we not know she can sing like this?”

“Hear me out—this is a perfect reason as to why we should have an Avengers musical.”

“Chris if we hear you bring up a damn musical one more time I swear.”

“Their voices go so well together, how do they even do that?”

Scarlett would secretly film videos to show her daughter. I have a feeling that Evans, Tom, RDJ, Sebby, and Mark would record some parts as well and would post it onto their Insta stories.

When fans found out they were at the Live Lounge they freaked out.

Ever since they found out you were in a band, they’ve been the biggest fans and supporters of the group.

They’re always promoting your albums on their social media accounts without you even asking.

Privately and publicly praising you guys for performances or achievements.

Your two main groups clashed and now everyone was friends. It was definitely the most weirdest collision— Little Mix and the cast of the Avengers. But it worked out perfectly.

Everyone got along with each other and the girls would always visit you on set.

They’re always playing the band’s song in the background on set.

Most of them won’t admit, but they definitely memorized the lyrics to almost every song.

*cough cough* Mackie and Hemsworth

I feel like Samuel L. Jackson would join in on the action too, one way or another. Somehow he got looped in.

ANOTHER THING OMG, they would definitely stand up for you and the girls whenever Piers Morgan or some asshole hates on you guys or pulls a jab on you all.

Best beileve Evans will be calling him out publicly on Twitter.

“Why are you so worried about a bunch of talented women who are doing their job and bringing happiness to others? They’ve done nothing to you, you’re always the one making jabs at them. Leave them alone you fucking British meatball.”

I feel like Robert helped you and the girls find a better management company after learning about the unfair treatment you all faced under Simon’s care.

In conclusion: The Marvel cast would be ecstatic to learn about you being a singer and they’d become your biggest fans. They truly adore you and the girls for your amazing talent :’)

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writingwife-83 · 4 years

Text

My 2020 Sherlolly Self Interview

Thanks for organizing this fun activity @sherlollyappreciationweek! 🎉 I’ll start out with a very brief “about me” section-

I live in the northeast area of the USA, I’ve been married for seventeen years, have one teenage son, and I’m in my *gulp* late thirties now. I do volunteer ministry work and also work part time from home. Among other leisure activities, obviously I love writing! I started writing original fiction when I was a preteen, but I’ve been writing fanfic under the pen name “writingwife83” for over six years now. I discovered fanfic and the world of online fandom after becoming obsessed with BBC Sherlock in 2014 after s3 aired. I read The Full House, fell in love with the whole concept of fanfic, specifically for sherlolly, and couldn’t help but give it a go myself. And as they say, the rest is history!

Below the cut I’ll talk about some of the topics and fics suggested by followers/readers. Buckle up cuz it’s a lot lol...

Ok, first up to be kind enough to give me some feedback is @readstoomuch. You said- “what inspires you. Any story (I love them all!). Who do you love writing? Who is hardest for you? And which is that one story that you had fun doing?”

As for what inspires me, first and foremost it’s the show and characters itself. Watching those two on screen, it’s not hard to be inspired! But beyond that, I find a lot of inspiration in music and art, and just generally in other creative works and people. I think for a while I had my own internal inspiration and no lack of it, but as months dragged into years lol, I have found that the rest of the shippers are invaluable in filling the gaps when I lack inspiration and motivation. Some prompts I’ve gotten from others have taken on a life I never would have expected, and that’s pretty great. I honestly don’t think writing works best as a purely solitary activity. I know myself and although there is an aspect of my writing that will always be “for me,” that’s absolutely not all it is. It’s the fun of creating with others and it’s the fun of sharing with others.

As for who I love writing and who’s hardest, I think I’ve always felt pretty comfortable writing the main characters in Sherlock. I probably especially love writing Sherlock himself because he’s fun to break down and really dig deep into his emotions and thought processes. There have definitely been times some of the side characters have overwhelmed me and made me nervous about conveying their voices accurately. For instance, Mycroft can be tough if it involves pulling him out of his shell in a way that still feels believable and true to character.

That one story I had fun doing? Well there’s no way I can say just one. 😆 As far as reader response, there’s no other fic that can compare to the fun of I Told You So, that’s for sure. But as far as the actual plotting and creating, I think the fics I’ve had the most fun with are the multi-chapters I’ve done since becoming good friends with @thisisartbylexie. Having her as a sounding board, plotting buddy, and editor has absolutely increased my creating fun and has definitely also made me a better writer.

Thanks so much for asking @readstoomuch 🥰

Alrighty, @thisisartbylexie, you asked- if there's a fic that you ever wanted to go back to change in some way, which one would it be and why? Which one do you feel "oh wow, did I write that?" in a super positive way?

Idk how to choose just one fic. There are plenty that could use some changing lol! One I’d like to fix though, would be Pleased to Meet You. I know (because I’ve been told) that there’s inaccuracies in that one seeing as I’m not personally familiar with university settings in the UK. I did actually attempt research and I thought I got the idea, but apparently it didn’t work out terribly well. But the plotting and progression of that fic is one I’ve always been happy with, so I guess I feel like it’s a shame if it came off messy in some general ways and distracted from the rest of it. I like how I was able to weave that one into the canon of the show up to that point. And tbh it actually still fits as a uni backstory for them without any conflicts to the canon. As much as I enjoy canon divergence and AU, I also have a big soft spot for fics that simply connect seamlessly to what we’ve already been given.

As for “oh wow, did I write that?” I think one of my proudest accomplishments has been Zephyr. That fic kinda has it all lol. The tropes, the pining, the romance, the Victorian setting...ugh I love it. And there’s a climactic kiss moment in that fic that’s one of my faves I’ve written. I’m so glad I wrote it because of the Sherlolly Remix Challenge in ‘16, and at your suggestion, Lexie. But I will also be forever sad that I had to release that fic all at once on AO3 once completed. That fic would have been great fun to be writing and posting as I went along! And on top of being happy with the fic itself and how it came out, I’m awfully proud of the fact that you were excited enough about the fic to illustrate it, and that @goodshipsherlolly enjoyed it enough to record it as an audio fic. Honestly, what more could a writer ask for? 🥺

@mizjoely, you said you’d like to hear anything about The Queen’s Man. Okey doke, you got it lol!

I actually went back and read through most of that fic when I got this because it had been a long time since I’d looked at it. I gotta be honest that in hindsight...I’m a little surprised it did as well as it did.😂🙈 As some may remember, it started because I saw a magnificent manip and wanted to write something to go with it, and then because that was well received, somehow it just kept going. I did very little world building and development of characters in that fic. It was largely just one shippy, romantic, pining scene after another lol. At the end I did kinda tie it all in and wrapped the story up ok, but it was definitely one of those self indulgent fics where I didn’t feel like doing the hard parts and really just wanted to write the fun stuff. Don’t get me wrong, I loved writing it, and I’m so glad it got the positive reception that it did! But it just kinda makes me laugh because it goes to show sometimes you don’t know what’s going to do really well. You could agonize over clever plotting and world building and character development etc, and be so super proud of the finished product and all your hard work, but then you share and the response is like “meh.” And then other times you legit just throw something together with barely any careful thought, and the crowd goes wild! But aside from all that, the visuals in my head of that AU are just too drool worthy to me. Molly in Medieval royal attire? Sherlock in dark armor with a Purple Tunic of Sex™️ underneath? The two of them lingering in the dimly lit hallways and rooms of a castle and gazing endlessly in mutual pining? Yes to all.

Thanks for asking @mizjoely 😘

Ok wow, see what I mean? That was long! 🤣 If you read all the way through this whole thing, *Moriarty voice* thank you...bless you. Honestly, this ship is amazing and I don’t think I’ll ever have a writing experience anywhere else like I’ve had here. I’ve seen the other side of things in another fandom now, so I can all the more so confirm that there’s no ship quite like sherlolly. The warmth, reception, and longevity is mind blowing and I’m just awfully happy to have played a part in creating for the beauty that is Sherlock Holmes and Molly Hooper. 💕

#sherlolly #sherlollyselfinterview20 #I spent too much time on this lol #hope some of you enjoy reading it!#I hope I remembered to link everything #there were lots of links to be added lol

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warninggraphiccontent · 3 years

Text

16 July 2021

Food for thought

At last week's Data Bites, I noted how 'Wales' is a standard unit of area. This week, along comes a map which shows that all the built-up land in the UK is equivalent to one Wales:

The map is from the National Food Strategy, published yesterday (and the man has a point).

It has divided opinion, judging by the responses to this tweet. I understand where the sceptics are coming from - at first glance, it may be confusing, given Wales isn't actually entirely built up, Cornwall made of peat, or Shetland that close to the mainland (or home to all the UK's golf courses). And I'm often critical of people using maps just because the data is geographical in some way, when a different, non-map visualisation would be better.

But I actually think this one works. Using a familiar geography to represent areas given over to particular land use might help us grasp it more readily (urban areas = size of Wales, beef and lamb pastures = more of the country than anything else). It's also clear that a huge amount of overseas land is needed to feed the UK, too.

The map has grabbed people's attention and got them talking, which is no bad thing. And it tells the main stories I suspect its creators wanted to. In other words, it's made those messages... land.

Trash talk

Happy Take Out The Trash Day!

Yesterday saw A LOT of things published by Cabinet Office - data on special advisers, correspondence with parliamentarians, public bodies and major projects to name but a few, and the small matter of the new plans outlining departmental priorities and how their performance will be measured.

It's great that government is publishing this stuff. It's less great that too much of it still involves data being published in PDFs not spreadsheets. And it's even less great that the ignoble tradition of Take Out The Trash Day continues, for all the reasons here (written yesterday) and here (written in 2017).

I know this isn't (necessarily) deliberate, and it's a lot of good people working very hard to get things finished before the summer (as my 2017 piece acknowledges). And it's good to see government being transparent.

But it's 2021, for crying out loud. The data collection should be easier. The use of this data in government should be more widespread to begin with.

We should expect better.

In other news:

I was really pleased to have helped the excellent team at Transparency International UK (by way of some comments on a draft) with their new report exploring access and influence in UK housing policy, House of Cards. Read it here.

One of our recent Data Bites speakers, Doug Gurr, is apparently in the running to run the NHS. More here.

Any excuse to plug my Audrey Tang interview.

The good folk at ODI Leeds/The Data City/the ODI have picked up and run with my (and others') attempt to map the UK government data ecosystem. Do help them out.

Five years ago this week...

Regarding last week's headline of Three Lines on a Chart: obviously I was going to.

Have a great weekend

Gavin

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Today's links:

Graphic content

Vax populi

Why vaccine-shy French are suddenly rushing to get jabbed* (The Economist)

Morning update on Macron demolishing French anti-vax feeling (or at least vax-hesitant) (Sophie Pedder via Nicolas Berrod)

How Emmanuel Macron’s “health passes” have led to a surge in vaccine bookings in France* (New Statesman)

How effective are coronavirus vaccines against the Delta variant?* (FT)

England faces the sternest test of its vaccination strategy* (The Economist)

Where Are The Newest COVID Hot Spots? Mostly Places With Low Vaccination Rates (NPR)

There's A Stark Red-Blue Divide When It Comes To States' Vaccination Rates (NPR)

All talk, no jabs: the reality of global vaccine diplomacy* (Telegraph)

Vaccination burnout? (Reuters)

Viral content

COVID-19: Will the data allow the government to lift restrictions on 19 July? (Sky News)

UK Covid-19 rates are the highest of any European country after Cyprus* (New Statesman)

COVID-19: Cautionary tale from the Netherlands' coronavirus unlocking - what lessons can the UK learn? (Sky News)

‘Inadequate’: Covid breaches on the rise in Australia’s hotel quarantine (The Guardian)

Side effects

COVID-19: Why is there a surge in winter viruses at the moment? (Sky News)

London Beats New York Back to Office, by a Latte* (Bloomberg)

Outdoor dining reopened restaurants for all — but added to barriers for disabled* (Washington Post)

NYC Needs the Commuting Crowds That Have Yet to Fully Return* (Bloomberg)

Politics and government

Who will succeed Angela Merkel?* (The Economist)

Special advisers in government (Tim for IfG)

How stingy are the UK’s benefits? (Jamie Thunder)

A decade of change for children's services funding (Pro Bono Economics)

National Food Strategy (independent review for UK Government)

National Food Strategy: Tax sugar and salt and prescribe veg, report says (BBC News)

Air, space

Can Wizz challenge Ryanair as king of Europe’s skies?* (FT)

Air passengers have become much more confrontational during the pandemic* (The Economist)

Branson and Bezos in space: how their rocket ships compare* (FT)

Sport

Euro 2020: England expects — the long road back to a Wembley final* (FT)

Most football fans – and most voters – support the England team taking the knee* (New Statesman)

Domestic violence surges after a football match ends* (The Economist)

The Most Valuable Soccer Player In America Is A Goalkeeper (FiveThirtyEight)

Sport is still rife with doping* (The Economist)

Wimbledon wild card success does not disguise financial challenge* (FT)

Can The U.S. Women’s Swim Team Make A Gold Medal Sweep? (FiveThirtyEight)

Everything else

Smoking: How large of a global problem is it? And how can we make progress against it? (Our World in Data)

Record June heat in North America and Europe linked to climate change* (FT)

Here’s a list of open, non-code tools that I use for #dataviz, #dataforgood, charity data, maps, infographics... (Lisa Hornung)

Meta data

Identity crisis

A single sign-on and digital identity solution for government (GDS)

UK government set to unveil next steps in digital identity market plan (Computer Weekly)

BCS calls for social media platforms to verify users to curb abuse (IT Pro)

ID verification for social media as a solution to online abuse is a terrible idea (diginomica)

Who is behind the online abuse of black England players and how can we stop it?* (New Statesman)

Euro 2020: Why abuse remains rife on social media (BBC News)

UK government

Online Media Literacy Strategy (DCMS)

Privacy enhancing technologies: Adoption guide (CDEI)

The Longitudinal Education Outcomes (LEO) dataset is now available in the ONS Secure Research Service (ADR UK)

Our Home Office 2024 DDaT Strategy is published (Home Office)

The UK’s Digital Regulation Plan makes few concrete commitments (Tech Monitor)

OSR statement on data transparency and the role of Heads of Profession for Statistics (Office for Statistics Regulation)

Good data from any source can help us report on the global goals to the UN (ONS)

The state of the UK’s statistical system 2020/21 (Office for Statistics Regulation)

Far from average: How COVID-19 has impacted the Average Weekly Earnings data (ONS)

Health

Shock treatment: can the pandemic turn the NHS digital? (E&T)

Can Vaccine Passports Actually Work? (Slate)

UK supercomputer Cambridge-1 to hunt for medical breakthroughs (The Guardian)

AI got 'rithm

An Applied Research Agenda for Data Governance for AI (GPAI)

Taoiseach and Minister Troy launch Government Roadmap for AI in Ireland (Irish Government)

Tech

“I Don’t Think I’ll Ever Go Back”: Return-to-Office Agita Is Sweeping Silicon Valley (Vanity Fair)

Google boss Sundar Pichai warns of threats to internet freedom (BBC News)

The class of 2021: Welcome to POLITICO’s annual ranking of the 28 power players behind Europe’s tech revolution (Politico)

Inside Facebook’s Data Wars* (New York Times)

Concern trolls and power grabs: Inside Big Tech’s angry, geeky, often petty war for your privacy (Protocol)

Exclusive extract: how Facebook's engineers spied on women* (Telegraph)

Face off

Can facial analysis technology create a child-safe internet? (The Observer)

#Identity, #OnlineSafety & #AgeVerification – notes on “Can facial analysis technology create a child-safe internet?” (Alec Muffett)

Europe makes the case to ban biometric surveillance* (Wired)

Open government

From open data to joined-up government: driving efficiency with BA Obras (Open Contracting Partnership)

AVAILABLE NOW! DEMOCRACY IN A PANDEMIC: PARTICIPATION IN RESPONSE TO CRISIS (Involve)

Designing digital services for equitable access (Brookings)

Data

Trusting the Data: How do we reach a public settlement on the future of tech? (Demos)

"Why do we use R rather than Excel?" (Terence Eden)

Everything else

The world’s biggest ransomware gang just disappeared from the internet (MIT Technology Review)

Our Statistical Excellence Awards Ceremony has just kicked off! (Royal Statistical Society)

Pin resets wipe all data from over 100 Treasury mobile phones (The Guardian)

Data officers raid two properties over Matt Hancock CCTV footage leak (The Guardian)

How did my phone number end up for sale on a US database? (BBC News)

Gendered disinformation: 6 reasons why liberal democracies need to respond to this threat (Demos, Heinrich-Böll-Stiftung)

Opportunities

EVENT: Justice data in the digital age: Balancing risks and opportunities (The LEF)

JOBS: Senior Data Strategy - Data Innovation & Business Analysis Hub (MoJ)

JOB: Director of Evidence and Analytics (Natural England)

JOB: Policy and Research Associate (Open Ownership)

JOB: Research Officer in Data Science (LSE Department of Psychological and Behavioural Science)

JOB: Chief operating officer (Democracy Club, via Jukesie)

And finally...

me: can’t believe we didn’t date sooner... (@MNateShyamalan)

Are you closer to Georgia, or to Georgia? (@incunabula)

A masterpiece in FOIA (Chris Cook)

How K-Pop conquered the universe* (Washington Post)

Does everything really cost more? Find out with our inflation quiz.* (Washington Post)

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battybumboy · 4 years

Text

But he was falling |Pt 2 | Thomas Thorne

Part two of And he was falling. I decided that leaving this story on a cliff hanger wasn’t fair. :p

There isn’t any other ghosts characters xReaders that I know of on the Internet... sooo... I had to make more!

Thomas Thorne x Female reader

Find and read part one here! :

Enjoy part 2!- xx 🍯

______________________________

Two glassy eyes look at the figure opposite them “Henry?”

“You shouldn’t be here! You’re a criminal!”

“I came to see you! You know how painful this day is!”

“You have no rights to be sad! You’re involved with the thing that caused this mess! You’ve picked your side!”

“I didn’t only travel here for that! I came to see you as well!”

“You shouldn’t have bothered! You need to leave!”

___

“L/N?”

The pirate jumped at the feeling of someone tapping her shoulder and was immediately brought back to her senses by the dozens of eyes that were looking at her with expectant gazes.

“I’m sorry chaps, I must’ve started daydreaming. Repeat the question?” The other ghost, Julian, groaned in mild annoyance as the other ghosts sighed along with him.

“Who do you think would win a game of chess when we were alive. Me, or Pat?”

“Oh, uhm... that depends on how much chess you both played in your lives. Well, I knows that Pat was a man who liked many ‘a game so Pat I suppose. No hard feelings Julian- it’s just that if you were to play during your life... it would soon evolve into more than a game of chess.” This was met with a moment of agreeing murmers.

“I see your reasoning and I must say, you’re quite right.” The MP replied, “You know, one night, me and Margot- we were having a spot of chess- and, you see, we were slightly tipsy after having... one to many glasses of wine and I- we-” Julian’s speech was suddenly interrupted with a number of groans from his peers, all attention now lost from Y/N, “Anecdote, people! I’m telling an anecdote!”

“Yes. Very good, Julian. Now that this silly debate is over, which has gone on- quite frankly- long enough, we can get on with what I have to say.” The Captain spoke, “Right. I have a complaint about something we all know has been going on for quite a while now...” he paused to look at the blank faces surrounding him before resting his eyes on a particular person, “What ever is the matter, Thorne! You’ve been- sitting around like a pile of melancholy limbs ever since that argument we had! If this is about what I said, please know that it was a heat of the moment thing.”

“Oh no... it’s quite alright. In fact, it rather opened my eyes to the subject of my love for Alison.” This to was met with an ovation of groans as the poet continued, “I’ve realised that Micheal and Alison’s love is a bond unbreakable by a hand of no flesh. I shall cease my wooing for no where will it get me if I want the love of another but Alison. Me and Alison were so close, yet so far. Our ships are never to get closer, yet lie in the same port on opposite sides of the dock. I know that although my heart will suffer... I’m doing the right thing and everything will be ok.”

“Wow...” came the small reply from Julian as everyone looked at Thomas, his head bowed and eyes closed softly. An overwhelmed silence lay over the other ghosts as they looked upon their most irritating housemate in shock

“That’s a lot of emotional baggage.” Julian continued, causing Y/N to lightly hit his shin with the toe of her boot before giving him a half amused glare.

“Yes, t’was what I thoughts. Lots and lots of emotions.” Chipped in Mary.

“Quite melodramatic If you ask me.”

“Well it’s a good thing no one did then, isn’t it, Cap?” Y/N replied, playfully.

“It’s Cap-tain” the Captain answered back, fondly.

“Did I stutter?” she winked playfully before turning back to face the majority of the crowd before Pat spoke up,

“I believe it was very brave of you to share that Thomas.”

“Oh pl-ease! It’s not like there’s anything he doesn’t share with us!” commented the mildly amused MP,

“I think it’s healthy for people to share their worries with the people they love!” Kitty replied, as always the sweet ball of sunshine,

“I seconds!” Exclaimed the peasant Stuart lady,

“Quite” Lady Button responded

“Well I do keep some things to myself.” The poet said, a soft smirk on his features for proving the politician wrong.

“Really? Like what?”

“That would be none of your concern, Julian.”

“But come on!”

“One hasn’t the must to share every woe they bare, ought they plead not to” Y/N chided, always the voice of reason.

“Easy for you to say, Captain Secretive! We don’t even know your first name!”

“Tell that to Cap over there.” She responded, rolling her eyes so hard that, if she were to roll them any harder, they’d have fallen out of her head,

“It’s... Cap-TAIN, L/N!”

“She has a point though, Captain.”

“She only told us her name because I was also a captain and you can only call one of us captain.”

“I felt the need not to be problematic... if the newly dead were to kick a fuss then it’s curtious to fix the problem they mewl ‘bout” Y/N said, before winking for the second time that hour.

“Yes but most of these lot went two, maybe three, centuries without any clue of your name.”

“Guys! Please! Settle down! Secrets of our lives can be kept a secret, secrets in general can be kept as secrets.” Pat said, directing the last part to the forgotten poet of whome was looking more more conflicted by each jab the other three ghosts threw at each other.

“A lady always keeps a secret!” Came Fanny’s stern reply,

“Aye, thank you, Lady Button.” the pirate replied, sending a grateful smile at the lady whome was only older in appearance, yet so much younger in age.

“I believe that the only secrets that should be shared are ones at sleepovers about people you have feelings for and want to start pining but need advice on how even though it might be unaccepted because of reasons to do with religion...oh and the secret that you ate or stole something you shouldn’t have” Kitty exclaimed, still smiling.

“That was oddly specific, Kitty.” Lady Button responded, eying the happy Georgian woman.

“Oh yeah, that’s because I once ate more cheese than I was supposed to” she said with a giggle as the rest of the room looked at the naive woman, brows raised,

“Not that one, Kitty, the other one.” Fanny corrected

“Oh? Oh yes! Does a bit... Just make sure the person your pining isn’t at the sleepover. That would be awkward... oh and the friends you’re with are ones that are trustworthy- people might tell the church.”

“Does there be witches?” Asked Mary, looking at Kitty’s faultering smile before a look of nervousness,

“Oh, I hope not. Well, at least I don’t think so.”

“Rights”

“I think they have by now”

“What?”

“Oh, you were just saying right...”

“Well, I agree with Katherine. Secrets that are held close can be kept secret”

“But t’isn’t the greatest sin to ask advice and spead few ‘a rumour on the status of ones love life.” Y/N countered

“On the subject of love, all of us love food... and that leads us on to food club!” Pat exclaimed excitedly

“Whoopie-doo” came The Captain’s sarcastic response before Mary stood up to tell the group about the best way to make butter.

“Thorne?” Y/N whispered quietly to her melancholy friend

“Hm?”

“Remember... if you need to talk, ‘bout anything at all...”

“Right- yes... I’ll.. tell you.”

The poet kept mentally denying the fact that he was slowly but surely catching feelings for his housemate but the nagging at his mind never stopped... neither did the frantic butterflys in his chest or the urge to be near her. But he resided in the fact that it would possibly go away and turn out to be a silly phase. At least he hoped, for his heart couldn’t bare to be rejected... not again.

He looked at her soft features and felt a twinge in his quiet heart. Thomas couldn’t help but smile at her softly; He didn’t want to love again...

But he was falling

____________________________________

I hope you liked part two! Part one did ok so I’m making it into a series! -🍯xx

Part 3-

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stylesnews · 4 years

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No one was more surprised by the success of Harry Styles’ “Adore You” than Amy Allen, the woman who co-wrote it. “When a song of mine comes out, I always tell my managers: ‘Don’t say anything unless something remarkable happens,’” says the 28-year-old singer-songwriter, musician and producer. “I don’t even check Mediabase for the radio stats — I try to live under a rock. Ever since I was little, I’ve obsessed over things. My mother always told me: ‘Once it’s out of your hands and into the universe then you have to let it go.’ ”

But last week, something remarkable happened. “It just crossed into the top 10 at radio, so one of my managers had my approval to text me,” she says. “I was like, ‘Oh my God!’ I had no idea. I was so excited. Deep down I’ve always been hungry to put out songs with a universal message that the world can sing back — and I guess the easiest way to sum that up is a top radio song.”

“Adore You,” released by Columbia Records, has 82,727 total spins to date per Mediabase and recently hit No. 1 on SiriusXM’s Hits 1. According to BuzzAngle Music, the song moved 66,988 song project units; Styles’ album “The Fine Line,” is about to cross 2 million album equivalent units.

But “Adore You” doesn’t sound like anything else on the airwaves in 2020. “There’s a guitar solo, for one, which is very rare,” notes Allen, who graduated from the Berklee College of Music. “It has a feel that is reminiscent of the ’70s. I grew up on that classic soft rock — Fleetwood Mac and the Stones’ ‘Wild Horses.’ ” The single stands out lyrically, too. “It’s totally a love song and a lot of the music on the radio is pretty dark and serious right now,” she adds.

Ironically, dark songs are her forte — she co-wrote “Graveyard” for Halsey as well as “Without Me,” the latter which went to No. 1 at pop radio after spending a record-breaking 29 weeks in the top 10. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me: I’m a happy person, but I can’t write happy songs,” says Allen. “‘Adore You’ was my first feel-good song, so I’m psyched about that.”

Another highlight of the song’s journey from pen to life: “Watching Harry,” she says, referring to Style’s one-night-only album release show at The Forum. “I was really nervous because the album had only been out for a couple days and I wasn’t sure if anybody would know that song.”

To her surprise, most of the 20,000 in attendance sang along to “Adore You.” “Harry is a phenomenal performer, the band sounded amazing and he has the most loyal fans,” says Allen. “My friends Tom [Hull] and Tyler [Johnson] — the other writers on the song — were also in the crowd so it was just a special moment. I haven’t seen any songs I’ve been a part of played live before. … It was beautiful and really cool.”

But not quite as cool as seeing Lizzo sing “Adore You” — complete with a cameo from Sasha Flute — on BBC Radio 1. “I idolize Lizzo,” says Allen. “It really just goes to show that the right song can be performed by many different people. Everybody at the end of the day has the same emotions and feels like they would do anything because they loved somebody so much.”

As it turns out, Allen expected to see Lizzo’s cover version a couple weeks ago — as a duet with Styles over Super Bowl weekend. “I was with Harry on his birthday and the night before he had been in Miami,” she recalls. “Lizzo was going to do it with him on stage and then the show got rained out. So I was, like, ‘Aw, man! I would’ve loved to have seen the video of you guys doing it together.’ And then I didn’t hear anything else about it.” (Worth noting: Styles joined Lizzo in Miami for her own hit “Juice” on June 30.)

#harry styles #feb20 #amy allen #adoreyou #article

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darksunrising · 4 years

Text

Sola Gratia (3/?)

Masterlist

Rating / Warnings : General Audiences, no warning.

Fandom : Bram Stoker’s Dracula, BBC’s Dracula, various Dracula and vampire lore.

Part 3/? (2262 words)

Author’s notes : Eris starts to explore, and starts to understand castle and Count both hold some mysteries she is not sure she wants to resolve.

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My eyes fluttered open, and it took me a second to make sense of my surroundings. Sitting up with some difficulty, the soft mattress seemingly trying to keep me in, I set the covers aside, and threw my legs over the edge of the bed. The room was bathed in a strange light, almost green, and if the rain had stopped, the sky was still low with bulging clouds, threatening to burst open at any moment. The fire in the hearth had died out, only leaving a few red coals to shimmer softly.

I changed back into my new outfit. My usual clothes might have dried out overnight, but I had to admit I really loved the skirt. It had pockets, for hell’s sake. I had no idea what time it was, the dark skies making it impossible to assess the position of the sun. I figured if I were going to do anything, I might as well go check on the damage in my bag, which I decided to forget about last night. I left the room, trying to find my way back to the main hall. After a few hesitations and turnbacks, I finally found the main stairs, and reached my bag, still sitting near the door. As I feared, most of everything was soaked, even the food I’d taken with me. Had to throw that out, at some point. I found my phone, that I had miraculously put in a waterproof case. Still working, though on concerningly low battery, and had no signal. I sighed, and set it to extreme batter saver mode, hoping it would last until I could get back to civilisation.

I grabbed my remaining clothes to have them dry with the rest, and went to the dining room. There, the fire was still going strong, with a couple of fresh logs. At the end of the large banquet table, I was surprised to see a steaming pot of tea, and a plate of something close to scones, I believe. It was accompanied by a sheet of thick, high quality paper, folded in half to stand on its own, marked with my name in a neat, graceful handwriting.

“Dear Eris, I expect you had a pleasant sleep. I have left for the most of the day, and will certainly not return before dark. Please enjoy some breakfast, as you must surely be famished. Feel free to explore should you wish it, as I have left the keys for you along with this letter. I hope you will forgive me for my absence, and trust you will find the means for distraction. Your devoted host, Count Vlad Balaur.”

As I read the letter in a half hushed voice, warmth spread across my chest as I finished on his name. A glance at the table confirmed the presence of said keys. If I had to fumble through all of them every time I wanted to open a door, exploring just might take the whole day after all. I slipped them, along with the letter, in my pocket, and poured me a cup of tea. It was a different blend, black, yet flowery and soft. Perfectly well infused. The scones seemed to be fresh out of the oven, which made me wonder if he baked them himself, or had staff. I didn’t see anyone last night, but then again, it was late. If he was as rich as his house suggested, he just might. I figured I would look out for them. If anything, I had to compliment the chef. I don’t know if it was because I hadn’t eaten since yesterday at lunch, but eating these scones felt somewhat close to a religious experience.

After I became physically unable to eat any more, I decided to follow the Count’s idea, and explore. The castle was old, that much I could tell. I wasn’t an expert on architecture, but I was more or less convinced that the most ancient phase of construction had to be around the 13th, 14th century. The village probably built itself around it, so that would make some sense. Obviously, it had been updated, rebuilt, but the main structure was still visible. A lot of the rooms seemed almost… Stuck in time. A bit messy, crowded, as if the people who last left could come back any moment. Even so, the thick layer of dust dulling the colors made it clear that wasn’t going to happen.

I couldn’t help but feel some nostalgia. 15-year-old me would have been thrilled exploring a place like this. Not that I wasn’t, but at that time, I was so into urban exploration that I almost got dragged to the station a couple of times for tresspassing. My parents never knew, and just thinking of their reaction if they ever had had to go bail me out of jail for being a bastard goblin made me go into hysterics. Couldn’t help but picture my father, stilted up into some sad brown corduroy suit, mouth pinched in a lip-less line, having to pick up a ratty kid who just could not, would not, keep her grubby hands out of dangerous, rat infested abandonned houses. Or shut down psych wards, that one time. Pretty anti-climatic, that was.

I stifled a laughter, and shut the door behind me. Most of the rooms were boudoirs, spare bedrooms and such. There was one large room, covered in hunting trophies and animal skeletons. This one interested me the most. Inside, I noticed it was close to a cabinet of curiosities. Glass and wood shelves hosted a variety of skeletons, egg and sea shells, fossils, even some weirdly misshapen baby animals, floating in yellowed jars. The taxidermied animals seemed almost real, and at any moment, I expected them to start moving around. One shelf, built along the whole length of a wall, was dedicated to various skulls, ranging from standard game, elks, boars and whatnot, to more exotic things. One in particular caught my eye. At first glance, I thought it might be human, but I was very quick to change my mind.

The skull seemed fine, strong jaw still attached to the cranium, even a bit of mummifies tissue still attached in some spaces. However, the teeth… The teeth made no sense. Too many, too sharp, like they had been filed into curved, pointy shapes you only see in great apes, or carnivorous animals. Reviewing every strange cultural rite that could explain such a bizarre thing, I started to feel more and more uneasy. I almost felt like it was staring at me from the shadows, behind the hollow eye sockets. Not necessarily wanting to linger any more, I slipped out of the room, and locked the door after a few tries. Just to be sure, you know.

I had visited most of the rooms, but still one was pinching my curiosity. If I understood right, I could see its windows from those of the corridor leading to the dining room. Tall windows, almost church-like. I passed its door a few times, but was never able to find the key that unlocked it. The mind works like it works, and by the thrid time, I was almost ready to find a way to pick the lock, or break it down. Frustrated as ever, I gave a kick to the frame, that made me repress a cry of pain.

“Well now, what has that poor door done to deserve this ?”

I nearly jumped at the sound of the Count’s voice. He was standing behind me, a manner which seemed to have become a habit on his part.

“It was resisting my best attempts to pierce it’s secrets, which is a grave offense in my book”, I replied.

“Ah, I am afraid it was entirely my fault”, he admitted, and produced a key from his pocket, twisting it between his long, slender fingers.

A mischievous smile playing on his lips, he unlocked the double doors, and pushed them open, dramatically turning back to face me, his coat flaring around him, arms open.

“Welcome to my library.”

The room was filled with the last rays of the sun, setting on the mountain ridge, under the clouds. It caught the dust the Count must have raised as he entered in golden specs, floating up all around him. Everywhere, bookshelves stretched out up to the high ceilings, accessible by ladders and small bridgeways. The floor was covered in richly woven carpets, and at every comfortable corner sat armchairs and reading tables, agremented with chandeliers. There had to be a lifetime’s worth of reading within these four walls, and for a moment, I was unable to even walk in.

As I finally regained control of my limbs, I stubled inside, jogging to the nearest shelf. Leather-bound books, stacks of rolled parchment, gilted, worn, intricate, small, large, I didn’t even know where to look first. There were so many different languages, I couldn’t even recognize half. I let my fingers trail along the backs of the volumes, deciding on which to pick first.

“Do you like it ?”, the Count softly asked, as if not to disturb my frantic search.

I turned towards him, unable to stop smiling. He looked almost surprised, almost moved. The sun caught his eyes, revealing their deep blue color. I noticed his hair was now dark as night, cascading on his shoulders. Not a single gray hair in sight. He looked almost exactly like his portrait in the dining room, now that I thought about it. He must have noticed my internal trouble.

“Is there something wrong ?”, he asked, stepping closer to me.

“Nothing”, I replied, shaking my head. “You seem to be… Well, for lack of better terms, younger than yesterday.”

“Ah, a bruise to my ego !”, he exclaimed as he carried a hand to his heart. “I know I have left my younger days behind, but I have yet to be an old man.”

It had been a dark, stormy night, and I figured that by candlelight, my mind could have played tricks on me. Maybe I had been expecting a lonely old man so much, that he appeared that way, in my slightly frostbitten mind. I decidedly turned my attention to the shelves, and picked a volume. A bit worn, but the dark green of the leather, and the tiny golden patterns still vivid on the spine. As I read the title, it had me laughing to myself. Ὀδύσσεια, Homer’s Odyssey, in the “original” speech.

“Do you read ancient greek ?”, the Count asked, now looking over my shoulder.

“I have had the misfortune of learning it. Since then, I fell out of practice, I think.”

I turned over the pages, the familiar words coming back to mind without having to really read them. It was with this story, and the Illiad, that my parents taught me. I knew them almost by heart at that point. His tall silhouette, behind me, felt almost protective. I was nearly tempted to let myself lean back against his chest. I could feel soft strands of hair brushing past my shoulder, making a shiver run down my spine.

“Are you cold ?”, he asked. “I am afraid these walls tend to not hold the heat very well. I could have a fire lit here, if you want.”

His tone was almost tender, concerned. I had no time to answer, before I heard the rustling of fabric, and felt the weight of his coat placed over my shoulders. His hands lightly slid down my arms, flattening the soft, tightly woven wool over me. The sudden warmth did nothing for my shivering, and I nervously turned another page. My finger slipped on the edge, which cut right through the soft skin.

I cursed under my breath, watching red bead at the cut, and run toward my palm. The hands of the Count, still over my shoulders, suddenly gripped them tight, almost enough to hurt me. I could swear I heard a growl from deep inside his chest. He took my hand in his, examining the wound. A slow stream of red came trickling down his own fingers. He was leaning closer to me, so much that I could feel his breathing on the nape of my neck, heavy, trembling.

“You should be more careful”, he told me, his voice barely more than a whisper, deep, and dark.

I turned back, freeing myself of his grip, and tried to step away. My back hit the shelves, my injured hand held up to my chest, the other still holding the book so tight my knuckles went white. He once again took my hand, this time holding a cloth to the cut, red slowly seeping into the white cotton. He kept his eyes riveted to the makeshift band-aid. They didn’t seem so blue anymore. He took a deep breath, which sounded almost like a snarl as he let it out. He whispered something in romanian I couldn’t make out, let go, and suddenly, he was gone. Leaving me breathless, confused, holding the now mostly red cotton square to my hand. The edges of the shelf dug into my back. I inhaled sharply, as if I’d been holding my breath the entire time, which could easily have been the case.

I closed the book, and slipped it back onto the shelf. The library was silent, if it weren’t for the faint sound of a crackling fire, in the hearth.

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Taglist : @carydorse @angelicdestieldemon @bloodhon3yx @thewondernanazombie @battocar @moony691 @mjlock

#fanfiction #dracula fanfiction #dracula bbc #dracula castlevania #bram stoker's dracula #vampire x human #slow burn #fanfic #heheh things are gonna go down soon!!!#i'd love to hear what you thing of it #don't hesitate sending me asks or stuff like that !

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hlupdate · 4 years

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Allen’s managers followed her instructions for a gag order, but then something remarkable happened — again.

#harry styles #harry team #articles #240220

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kyeshirosaki · 4 years

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Cursed Episode 1

I watched the whole season despite being skeptical after the first episode because I wanted to like it and enjoy it and I very much did enjoy parts of it in spite of some of the show's bad aspects. Cursed has a lot of flaws, but I still plan on watching a second season if it’s renewed. I’ve never seen BBC’s Merlin, nor do I have much of a background in Arthurian legend like most folks that have been talking about the show. Anyway here are some of my thoughts about the show, good and bad, including spoilers for the whole season.

The first two episodes are rough, but it does get better. Likewise these posts will get more positive as it goes, I promise.

We’re introduced to Nimue, a teenager that suffers from bullying from her entire community except from her mother. They call her a witch and we see her cause vines to attack her tormentor, but later we see the village elders perform a ceremony that very much looks like magic and Nimue is chosen to be summoner. It’s understood that summoner is a respected spiritual position, but we aren’t told exactly what being summoner entails. We know that no one likes her or wants her to have the position and neither does she. In the show’s defense, defining the position is rendered moot since her village is destroyed before she has a chance to fulfill any aspects of it.

Her mom doesn’t understand why Nimue doesn’t want to be summoner and so she runs away with her concerned best friend coming along for the journey. I really hope we get some flashbacks of Pym defending Nimue or just a snippet of her choosing to stay Nimue’s friend after the village turns against her. Children can be fickle and I think it’s really something that Pym’s loyalty hasn’t shaken over the years.

Now we meet Father Carden, who acts as the season’s Big Bad. The scene was made to make you question what exactly the context is for this old religious man’s speech to this young boy. My first assumption was that Carden was trying to recruit the boy for his holy crusade against demons and trying to explain why the child shouldn’t be scared to murder “evil” people. I have mixed feelings about this scene. The reveal that the child was fey and therefore a demon needing to be expelled did have an impact, as did panning out to the child’s village being razed, but later scenes make Carden’s speech seem out of character. He doesn’t seem to have any issues killing or ordering children to be killed and doesn’t feel like the type to explain himself to a child or need to steel his own nerves.

The scene DOES make sense if the scene is actually a flashback and the little boy we’re seeing is actually the Weeping Monk receiving the beginning of his brainwashing. These are the only characters that we see have reactions to touching leaves, but there’s no specific scene identifying the two characters as the same and it’s implied that the little boy was taken away to be burned at the stake. I’m not entirely sure how Carden would have discovered his ability to locate other fey based on that scene alone, but it’s odd that no one else has been shown to have skin that reacts to foliage.

I love the design of the Moon Wing fey, but their design does leave a bit to be desired from other kinds of fey. There’s no other kind that has quite that much detail to their design save maybe Yeva, who’s supposedly also a Moon Wing despite being much more bird like. First Moon Wing we meet looks more like a traditional fairy - very petite, winged, blue skin, and with gemstone looking features around their face. Yeva doesn’t look similar in the slightest despite also having a great design.

And now we get to meet Merlin, the most well known Arthurian character alongside Arthur and Lancelot. On one hand, I’m a fan of meeting him as a jaded man, but I don’t quite understand why he’s got a shaved head as if he’s an infantry soldier. That style is known as the Ceasar and became popular among soldiers and wrestlers because it’s a lot harder to grab someone by the hair if it’s that short. I don’t hate it, I’m just curious about the decision.

I love the relationship between Merlin and Uther Pendragon. They aren’t confirmed in any way, but the relationship comes off as if Merlin is living in luxury off of his alimony settlement with his former lover, Uther, who decided to keep Merlin close if he was going to be footing the bill either way. We’re told that this country based in the British Isles is in a drought. By the end of the episode they receive rain that turns to blood and you’d assume Uther would be up Merlin’s butt about bringing actual rain. Uther tries but Merlin decides he has better things to do and there’s... no ramifications for blowing off the king of the country who will be facing a food shortage that could lead to a famine if he can’t get any rain. Granted, there are more immediate things that soon demands the king’s attention.

Nimue’s next actions don’t make sense to me without acknowledging her as a death seeker. Her runaway plan fails and she meets a man performing for coin and decides to go to a tavern with him after saying it’s a bad idea. I’m assuming they get drunk, despite none of them seeming particularly intoxicated in the next scene because Nimue, despite knowing that being discovered as a fey would put her life in danger, decides to use magic to cheat against a guy using loaded dice. If I remember correctly, this guy with guy with dice was getting ready to leave them alone when Nimue decided to challenge him AFTER finding out his game was rigged. She uses magic which makes vein-like vines appear very visibly on the sides of her head that distinguishes her as a fey in a bar crowded with humans that are hostile to fey. That kind of idiocy goes beyond being a drunk teenager, or at the very least you’d expect Pym, who knows better, to rush Nimue away immediately instead of letting her do it a second time - especially since they established that it’s too late in the day for them to get home before dark. You’d expect that their next move would be to find a place to sleep for a night in town, but Nimue’s recklessness ruins that option.

They’re saved by Arthur and properly introduce our protagonist to the treat of the Red Paladins, who are currently trying to hunt down Nimue to kill her and presumable anyone trying to help her. They decide to not only build a fire and make camp, but get drunker while Nimue decides to swing Arthur’s sword around and the two engage in flirty fight banter. A lit campfire is already a dead giveaway to your position, but if you don’t see that you can still listen out for them making all the noise that comes with sword fighting and they’d totally be in a good position to fight off any attackers with them getting drunk enough for Pym to wake up with a hangover. It’s as if Arthur had the one good braincell between them, but threw it into the fire. Nimue’s headbutt was an enjoyable moment though. Pym is nowhere to be seen during this scene, but the next establishes her asleep next to the campfire they were fighting near despite her not being visible from what I remember.

Legitimately a smart idea for the girls to ditch Arthur before heading back to their city. He’s still a human and it’s better safe than sorry before leading him back to a whole village of people being persecuted. Boy howdy did they need his one brain cell to keep them from walking into their village as it’s being massacred. I do understand that they’re both in shock and the goal may have been to highlight all the carnage around them, but after having her best friend ripped away and being caught and carried off twice and only escaping by dumb luck, it would have been nice to see her run away or successfully defend herself. I thought this might be the moment where we see her being the warrior her mother claims her to be, but it isn’t. Nimue is resilient, but nothing about her seems like the warrior the trailers made her out to be.

Jump ahead to the wolf massacre that the Wolfblood Witch gets her namesake from. I can’t lie, it was pretty cheesy to watch and the wolves didn’t feel real; however it’s already expensive being a fantasy series and CGI is very costly. I get that if you’re going to do it you should do it right, but I forgive them for this scene and do my best to turn a blind eye to some of the cringey CGI used in some of the fight scenes. It’s bad, but not something I’d stop watching a show over.

#cursed #cursed netflix #review #cursed 2020 #nimue #pym #wolfblood witch #kyeshirosaki

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badchoicesposts · 5 years

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In A Land of Myth... Sneak Peak

Summary: When Selene, a young sorceress, arrived in Stormholt she had every intention of remaining anonymous. King Constantine Rys had strict rules on sorcery. The act itself was punishable by death, and she had no desire to be burnt at the stake for her “crimes”. However, it becomes increasingly difficult for her to remain unseen when she becomes Prince Liam’s personal maidservant, and it seems that it's her job to protect him from everyone that wants to kill him.

Author’s Note: So this is an AU that I’ve been working on recently that is a cross between TRR and BBC’s Merlin. If you haven’t watched the show before it follows the tale of King Arthur and the sorcerer Merlin. Merlin comes to Camelot where magic is outlawed and is made Prince Arthur’s servant. This fic will also contain some elements of The Crown and The Flame, but things have been changed up a bit to fit the Merlin story line. This will have elements of both Liam x MC and Drake x MC.

Even if you haven’t seen the show, I think this could potentially be a really fun story, so please let me know if you want to see more of it because I’m not sure if I should continue it or not.

Special shout out to @flowerpowell for allowing me to nervously/excitedly ramble on and on about this and for being an all around amazing person!

Selene pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders and stared at the large castle in the distance through the trees that surrounded her. There was a slight breeze, rustling the leaves and causing her dark curls to blow into her face as she took a minute to rest her legs. She had been walking for three days. The trek to Stormholt was long and tiring, and one her mother had been hesitant to allow her to make on her own. But, in the end she had allowed her to travel by herself, knowing that Selene’s special abilities gave her just as much protection as any man could have. She was relieved to finally be nearing her destination, but anxious of what the future held for her.

The sun was just beginning to set, and the sky was turning a soft shade of orange as she traveled through the final stretch of land and finally arrived in the spacious courtyard at the side of the palace. There were dozens of people crowded around a raised dais, some speaking excitedly and others whispering nervously. Selene pushed her way through the crowd until she could finally see what they were all looking at. Her breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight of a man sitting on his knees, an executioner holding a large, unyielding axe next to him. She didn’t have much time to ponder what crime the man had committed, before the whispered musings around her were dulled by the presence of a formidable looking man on a balcony overlooking the courtyard.

“Let this be a lesson to all,” came his strong voice, silencing the remaining noise. “This man is guilty of conspiring to use magic and enchantments. By the laws of Stormholt, I, King Constantine Rys, have decreed that such practices are banned on penalty of death.”

The King nodded to the executioner and raised his right arm. The executioner repeated his movements and lifted the axe, bringing it down in time with Constantine’s movements.

Selene gasped in shock, and her heart began beating rapidly in her chest as the head of the prisoner was removed from his now lifeless body. She turned her back to the scene, refusing to look at the man’s body. The man whose only crime was using magic, using a gift he had been given at birth.

“When I came to this land it was in chaos, full of magic and sorcerers, but with the people’s help, it was driven from the realm,” Constantine resumed speaking, causing Selene to turn back to look up at him. “Today I declare a festival. A festival to celebrate twenty years since The Great Dragon was captured and Stormholt was freed from the evils of sorcery. Let the celebrations begin!”

The King finished his announcement with a satisfied smile that disgusted Selene on mere principle. He wanted to celebrate the murder of dozens of people. She had heard stories of The Great Purge in Stormholt. Constantine had ordered the murder of dozens of sorcerers and witches, all in his attempts to rid the kingdom of “evil”. The young woman was pulled out of her thoughts by a deafening cry. She found herself and the people around her backing up to make room for a distraught old woman who had made her way through the crowd before dropping to her knees in front of the dais.

“There is only one evil in this land and it is not magic! It is you, Constantine Rys!” the woman cried in disgust, causing the guards on either side of the king to start.

Constantine raised his hand to stop them and simply looked on at the woman in curiosity.

“Your hatred and ignorance has taken my child, but I promise you that you will soon share my tears,” she continued, still obviously upset but now rising to her feet to look the king in the eye. “By the end of this so called celebration you will know my pain. An eye for an eye… a son for a son!”

Constantine, now noticeably frightened, motioned for the guards to seize the woman, but before they even had a chance to move, a strong wind filled the air, causing everyone to take a step back and shield their eyes. The woman was gone the next second, her absence causing everyone to buzz with fear.

The crowd soon began to disperse as people wanted to make their way home just as night was falling, and Selene was forced to move along as well. She made her way into the castle, overwhelmed by the size and not knowing where she was supposed to be heading. She noticed a guard eyeing her suspiciously nearby and made her way over to him.

“Can you tell me where I can find Sir Bastien Lykel?” she asked politely, causing the man to regard her even more curiously.

He continued to look her over for a very uncomfortable few moments before finally deciding that she wasn’t a danger and pointing her in the direction she needed to go. She thanked him and quickly made her way to the chambers of the man she was both nervous and excited to meet. She took a deep breath before knocking the the large, wooden door that lead to his chambers. After a few moments with no response, she pushed the door open cautiously.

“Hello?” she called into the vast room.

There was still no response, and she sighed, resigned to the fact that she would have to wait until the man returned from wherever he currently was. Selene pulled her cloak off and rested it over her arm as she took in her surroundings. Sir Bastien’s chambers were larger than her and her mother’s entire house back in their small village at the outskirts of Stormholt. There was a large four poster bed in the middle of the room with blood red bedding that matched the heavy drapes around the windows in the room. There was a large fireplace on the wall opposite the bed, with a pile of fresh wood lying next to it. A dining table was at the left side of the room, and the wall beside it contained a set of stairs that led to a door she didn’t want to open without knowing what it led to. To the right of the bed stood an ornately carved wood room divider, over which a red cloak was thrown carelessly.

Selene approached the divider and walked to stand behind it. She reached for the cloak and saw the large Stormholt crest embroidered into the fabric. She traced her fingers over the symbol, feeling the soft fabric as she realized just how important this man probably was. Selene knew that he was of noble blood because of King Constantine’s law that a man must come from a noble family if he wished to be a knight, but the lavishness of his chambers was telling of just how important he was. The sound of heavy footsteps filled her ears as she continued to caress the cloak causing her to release the fabric and move out from behind the divider to greet the newcomer.

“Hello,” she said, startling the man whose back was currently turned to her and causing him to drop the goblet of wine that he was holding.

Without thinking Selene looked at the goblet, her brown eyes flashing amber, as she subconsciously slowed the rate at which it fell to the ground, allowing it to come to a slow stop on the floor, still completely full. She looked at him guiltily and ran over to where he stood to pick up the goblet and hand it to him, happy that she had been able to stop it from making a mess.

“Sorry,” she mumbled softly, as she looked up at the man before her.

Sir Bastien Lykel was much taller than her, which wasn’t unusual because of her small stature, and was broad shouldered and well built. He had intense grey eyes, and the dark hair on his head was just now beginning to grey. He was still wearing his armor, but his sword had been discarded on the table. The man continued to look at her in shock, not speaking for a few moments.

“I apologize for letting myself in. I was told these were your chambers, and when I knocked there was no answer,” she quickly tried to explain herself. “I’m Selene. My mother said you were expecting me.”

“Of course, Elena’s daughter,” he finally said, coming back to his senses. “Forgive me for staring, you just look so much like your mother.”

He continued to take in Selene’s appearance. Her brown skin and long black curls reminding him of the woman he once knew. There was a fondness to his voice that caused Selene to suppress a smirk. So, that was how her mother knew him. Every time she had asked, the woman had just blushed and claimed they were old friends.

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radiopopstand · 5 years

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Radio Popstand Broadcast 26 has been uploaded and is available to listen to now!

To listen to Radio Popstand launch your favourite podcast player and search for Radio Popstand. The latest broadcast (episode) is broadcast number 26.

One of the articles included in this broadcast of Radio Popstand is part two of the adventures of Radio Caroline. When we broadcast the first instalment of the Caroline adventure, back in broadcast number 24 of Popstand there was no Popstand Tumblr blog, so to remedy this I’ve included the transcript of the first instalment within the transcript of this instalment.

Part 1 of the Caroline Adventure (Transcript from broadcast 24 of Radio Popstand)

Before March 1964 your only chance of hearing pop music over the airwaves in the United Kingdom was for a few hours per week by the BBC or during the evenings from the station Radio Luxembourg, which was on the European mainland, although I have to say the signal quality from Luxembourg could be subject to much fading in and out for many parts of the UK.

The only other method to hear pop music was if you were lucky enough to own a record player. You could buy 7 inch vinyl records, that in most cases contained two songs, one on each side of the record. Each of these records cost about 6 shillings and 6 pence in 1964, that’s about 32p in the current decimal currency we have here in the UK. There was no such thing as digital music players and certainly no internet to stream music your way.

In the early 1960s Ronan O'Rahilly, an Irish business man, was attempting to secure singer Georgie Fame with a record contract but was being frustrated at every move he made to do so. Firstly, none of the existing record companies were interested, so Ronan decided to create his own record label, then to his horror he discovered that the BBC will only play established recording artists on their few music programmes. He contacted Radio Luxembourg, and once again his hopes were dashed when he was informed that the record shows on the station were all sponsored by four major record companies, so there was no way they would be able to play his records. At this point Ronan released the only thing he could do to solve this road block was to start his own radio station.

On Easter Day 1964 Radio Caroline came sailing onto the airwaves from a converted passenger ferry, the MV Fredericia, which was renamed the MV Caroline. This was the start of 24 hour a day, 7 day a week coverage by many different stations over the years from various ships and structures around the UK coastline, but just outside territorial limits, so avoiding any need to be licensed. The majority of these broadcasting stations provided a wealthy diet of pop music from gramophone records. Something that the BBC could not do even if, at the time, they had the inclination to so do.

The playing of music over the airwaves was very much restricted in those days and controlled by organisations such as the musicians union in an effort to protect the livelihood of the musicians which they helped. The BBC Light Programme was the BBC station that had responsibility for playing pop music in those days, together with news, comedy shows, sport, drama and other general interest programmes. The restrictions ruled, and even with the pop music shows that were broadcast there was only one that played back to back pop music records. Many of these programmes were interspersed with orchestras playing their versions of the hits of the day, not really what the youngsters of the day wanted to hear. They wanted to hear the Beach Boys singing Good Vibrations, not the BBC Northern Dance Orchestra with their instrumental interpretation.

This is were the sea based broadcasters were a godsend, with their non-stop pop music format. But not only were the likes of Caroline, London, City and England bringing pop music to the listeners, they were also providing something to listen to in terms of the presentation that was fun to listen too. Gone was the rigid presentation format, where there was a pause between each item, the announcer spoke slowly from a script, that must under no circumstances be deviated from. These new broadcasters were bringing an exciting, must listen too burst of fresh air, where you didn’t want to miss one moment.

The DJs became a part of the family, listeners followed the events that occurred to these offshore broadcasters with a passion, and being at sea the events that occurred were numerous and eventful, and quite often made headline news. One of the first such events to occur after Caroline had started broadcasting was a visit to the MV Caroline by the customs vessel ‘The Venturous’. Simon Dee was on duty as this visit occurred.

News time: Dateline: Wednesday 6th May 1964

We interrupt this programme to bring you a news report. The customs vessel Venturous drew close to MV Caroline at approximately 12:30pm today. The master of the vessel requested permission to board the MV Caroline in order to inspect our bonded stores. He was advised that one person only could board the ship. This offer was not accepted and shortly after the Venturous turned and sailed away from the Caroline. We shall bring you any further new developments as and when they happen, but now we return you to our scheduled programme.

From the very beginning the government of the day was not happy with these pop pirates of the airwaves bringing all this enjoyment to the masses. Questions were asked in parliament as to why the Venturous did not board the Caroline and tow her away.

The MV Caroline was soon joined at a close anchorage by another vessel with the same intention of bringing music record programmes for the listener’s pleasure. Radio Atlanta from the MV Mi Amigo commenced broadcasts on Tuesday 12th May 1964.

But that’s another story and you’ll have to wait to hear that another day.

Part 2 of the Caroline Adventure (Transcript from broadcast 26 of Radio Popstand)

From Tuesday 12th May 1964 two ships anchored in international waters of the North Sea were beaming a radio signal off the east coast of the UK. A rival to Radio Caroline had arrived on the airwaves. This new station was broadcasting from the MV Mi Amigo and called Radio Atlanta, broadcasting very close to Caroline on the medium wave band, with Caroline on 199 metres and Atlanta on 201 metres.

This was not the first time the Mi Amigo had been used for the purpose of broadcasting, having been used by Radio Nord in 1961/1962 off the coast of Sweden.

Both Caroline and Atlanta were battling for the same listeners, and with Caroline having arrived first it soon became clear that Atlanta was fighting a loosing battle. Behind the scene negotiations were taking place between the two organisations and a merger was soon agreed upon.

During the early evening of Thursday 2nd July 1964 both Caroline and Atlanta ended their transmissions for the day. No on-air announcement was made of what was about to happen, but that was the very last broadcast to be made from the Mi Amigo by Radio Atlanta.

The MV Caroline’s anchor was raised and Caroline sailed to within a mile of the Mi Amigo, a tender left the Caroline with two DJs Simon Dee and Doug Kerr, records, tapes and the transmitting crystal for 199 metres. Once all safely on board the Mi Amigo the tender left on it’s return to the Caroline with Atlanta’s 201 metres crystal.

Once again the Caroline set sail, this time travelling south towards the English Channel. The following morning both stations recommended transmissions, from the Mi Amigo as Radio Caroline South and from the Caroline as Radio Caroline, which was now sailing in a westerly direction along the English Channel. By 8 o’clock that Friday morning the ship was passing Eastbourne and Beachy Head, the DJs were bowled over by the crowds that could be seen cheering the station on. The journey continued throughout the weekend with updates from the ship’s master on the Caroline’s current position and it’s schedule being broadcast over the air. By 8 o’clock Sunday morning the course was changed as the MV Caroline started to sail north with an expected arrival time of 12.00noon on Monday 6th July 1964 at an anchorage off the Isle of Man in the Irish Sea.

Radio Caroline now had a network covering much of the United Kingdom and the Republic of Ireland and a large area of the European mainland with Radio Caroline South from the MV Mi Amigo in the southern North Sea and Radio Caroline North from the MV Caroline from the Irish Sea off the Isle of Man. The

This arrangement of the two Caroline’s lasted well for almost four years, a few problems along the way, one being the Mi Amigo loosing it’s anchorage in a storm on Wednesday 19th January 1966 and ending up on the beach at Frinton, Essex. The Mi Amigo suffered some damaged but Caroline hired another vessel whilst repairs were carried out.

They managed to continue after the British government introduced the Marine Etc (Broadcasting) Offences Act (MOA for short) on Monday 14th August 1967, this was a piece of legislation designed to make it impossible for the offshore radio stations to continue by making it illegal for British subjects to work for such stations and British companies to advertise on them. Many other stations had arrived on the scene since March 1964 and the MOA silenced all but the first station to broadcast from international waters off the UK, Radio Caroline.

It was a dispute with the tug company that tendered the two ships that was Caroline’s downfall, as this resulted in the Caroline and the Mi Amigo being seized on Sunday 3rd March 1968 and towed away.

But this was by no means the end of Caroline. However, the two ships were to spend the next four years tied up next to each other in a port in Amsterdam in the Netherlands.

You’ll have to listen again at sometime in the future to hear more of this exciting adventure of Radio Caroline.

Jeff Wright, 10th July 2019

#radio caroline #radio atlanta #mi amigo

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spoilersandnuts · 5 years

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(peaks from under the piles of books read and not reviewed, and books not read, because I just got a lot of feelings and it appears I have something to say about that) Ahh, re-reading books. I used to do it a lot more than I do now but then again, I used to read a lot more than I do now. I know people that don't do this and are surprised that I would a) re-read a book, and b) keep a book because I might want to re-read it in the future. But for most of my reading life, I've been re-reading books that I've enjoyed, although now I prioritise new reads over re-reads (gotta keep that TBR pile tamed). Even so, the last book I re-read wasn't that long ago. As I finally read Thick as Thieves late last year, I realised that it had been too long since I had read the last two books of the series (the first two I had re-read a few years back). Too long meaning that there were details I couldn't remember very well. The broad strokes, yeah, those I had, but with any book by Megan Whalen Turner, you gonna need more than that (seriously, even if you have it committed to memory you'll be surprised and miss things. As they say, fool me once, shame on me, fool me 5, possibly 6 times, you must be Megan). So that brings us to one of the points on re-reading: our memory is not perfect, so if a series takes say, 10 years to produce a sequel, you'll need a refresher at some point (even if it takes less than that - my memory is not what it was). So, after I finished Thick as Thieves, realising there were some things I couldn't remember, I just picked The King of Attolia the next day. And what fun it was to be thrown back in that book, with a somewhat spotty knowledge of the Conspiracy of Kings and very fresh read of Thick as Thieves. And that knowledge of what happens next brings us to point number two: hindsight is 20/20, and when you are re-reading you really appreciate the cleverness of an author, the details and the foreshadowing that are there that you missed the first time,. You pay attention to different aspects of the story, you may skip any parts you didn't particularly like and not miss the thread of the story (or read them anyway and have an 'Oh!' moment), and you may linger on the parts that you loved, reading them again and again. You are reading the same book you've already read, but the experience you are getting is a different one altogether. The final points on the value of re-reading, and what lead me to want to write this down, come not from re-reading a book, but from listening to an adaptation of a beloved series, which I have not returned to in a very long time (especially not the first books). I'm talking about Earthsea, and the BBC radio series adaptation from 2015. A long time ago, I said I'd wished I could read these books again for the first time (along with some others by Ursula K. Le Guin). And while reading for the first time is a very specific experience, some of these books I haven't even re-read. This is due, mostly, to fear that the magic that I associate with these stories will be lost. I'm older, hopefully wiser, with more reading mileage and with a different understanding of the world than I had when I was 12 or 15 or 22 (the world itself is a very different place too). With these fears in mind (and also the terrible track record of Earthsea adaptations), I gave the radio series a try (previous BBC radio dramas have been very good, this one was shared by a friend whose opinion I trust, and since the metro was crowded it was easier to listen than to read my current book). And it was like coming home. That's point number 3. Most of the times I've re-read books before have been because it is a comfort read. Reading something I love, because I'm in a streak of books that don't satisfy, because life is being troublesome, or just because I need something familiar. And being back at Earthsea was familiar. Ged and Tenar speaking to each other, as the stories are recounted, that was familiar. It wasn't familiar in the sense of 'oh I know these characters and these places and these stories'. No, it was familiar in the warmth you get when you are back at home after being away for so long, the one you get when you see a good friend. It was a very emotional response that I did not expect to have. The final point, and that somehow connects to point number 2, is that books shape who we are. They make you see the world in a different and wider way. There might be moralities in them that will guide you or make you realise that they don't work for you, but hopefully they teach you to be better, and to understand yourself better. The Earthsea books are that from me. And listening to this story again, I could see some of the building blocks of the person I've become. But also that I have lost some lessons along the way (or that I had to re-learn them in some other way), while others only now make sense to me. A different (re-)read puts things in perspective, and so does being older and the different experiences we have through life. My experience of these stories now is obviously different from my experience then, and so are the lessons I learn. It’s not a new thing that books still can teach me how to be better and help me understand myself. It is a pleasant surprise when an old favourite still manages to do that almost 20 years later, both in the same ways that it did then and in completely new ways. And while I've enjoyed the BBC radio drama very much, I still want to re-read these books (now slightly less afraid, because the magic clearly is still there). On a similar note, I have the radio drama for the Left Hand of Darkness, which I've yet to listen to (or re-read the book - it's only been like 15 years since I've read it) and I have exactly the same fears that I had with Earthsea.

#IFTTT #Blogger #Books #Earthsea #Megan Whalen Turner #Opinions and Thoughts #Ursula K. Le Guin

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elleberquist6 · 6 years

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Play Upon Me Like This Piano - chapter one

Summary: In many ways, Phil's life is perfect: he loves his life in London, he has a wonderful brother and parents, and he has a great job as a radio DJ for BBC Radio One. There's only one thing missing in his life... A rumor reaches an executive at the BBC about a talented local piano player named Daniel. The executive decides that Daniel would be the perfect guest on Phil's radio show, so she send Phil to speak with the evasive and mysterious piano player.

When they finally meet, Phil starts to think that he has found the person who will make his life complete. Unfortunately, Dan has a secret that will make getting close to him difficult.

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3777

Warnings: Smut

—

Excerpt from “The Soul Cages” By T. Crofton Croker:

The Merrow, of if you write it in the Irish, Moruadh or Murúghach, from muir, sea, and oigh, a maid, is not uncommon, they say, on the wilder coasts. The fishermen do not like to see them, for it always means coming gales.

Jack Dogherty lived on the coast of the county Clare. Jack was a fisherman, as his father and grandfather before him had been. Like them, too, he lived all alone… Many a strange sight, it may well be supposed, did Jack see, and many a strange sound did he hear, but nothing daunted him. So far was he from being afraid of Merrows, or such beings, that the very first wish of his heart was to fairly meet with one.

Accordingly, one day when he had strolled a little farther than usual along the coast to the northward, just as he turned a point, he saw something perched upon a rock at a little distance out to sea. It looked green in the body, as well as he could discern at that distance. Jack stood for a good half-hour straining his eyes, and all the time the thing did not stir hand or foot. At last Jack’s patience was quite worn out, and he gave a loud whistle and a hail, when the Merrow (for such it was) started up, put the cocked hat on its head, and dived down, head foremost, from the rock.

Jack’s curiosity was now excited, and he constantly directed his steps towards the point; still he could never get a glimpse of the sea-gentleman with the cocked hat. One very rough day, however, when the sea was running mountains high, Jack Dogherty determined to give a look at the Merrow’s rock, and then he saw the strange thing cutting capers upon the top of the rock, and then diving down, and then coming up, and then diving down again. Jack he wished now to get acquainted with the Merrow, and even in this he succeeded.

One tremendous blustering day, before he got to the point whence he had a view of the Merrow’s rock, and there, to his astonishment, he saw sitting before him. It had a fish’s tail, legs with scales on them, and short arms like fins. It wore no clothes, but had the cocked hat under its arm, and seemed engaged thinking very seriously about something.

Jack, with all his courage, was a little daunted; but now or never, thought he. So up he went boldly to the cogitating fishman, took off his hat, and made his best bow. “Your servant, sir,” said Jack.

[http://www.sacred-texts.com/neu/yeats/fip/fip21.htm]

CHAPTER ONE

It would have been any hole-in-the-wall bar, except there was something special about this place. That special thing was what had Phil Lester walking through the doors tonight, sent on an errand by his boss.

At first glance, the bar was much like any other small establishment of its sort in London. Even the fact that it was in a historic area was nothing to boast about – there were hundreds of bars in London that could brag that they had been sliding beers across their counters for hundreds of years. While the atmosphere of an old place could be charming at first glance, all polished wood and quirky decor, after lingering for a moment it quickly became apparent that the yellowed wallpaper had been discolored by the cigarette smoke of patrons from long before the laws had changed, and the smell wouldn’t quite fade, no matter how often it was scrubbed. And there was nothing charming about that.

Phil had arrived a bit earlier than he had intended, so he took a seat at the bar, which was mostly empty. He wasn’t much for going to places like this, but he was more accustomed to stereotypical pubs with a cluster of men shouting at a rugby game on a tv near the bar. However, this bar was different – it was classier. There were tables where couples could enjoy a meal, though only a few people were there at this early hour. Soft jazz music was playing from speakers mounted near the ceiling.

Phil smiled. This place might be a hole in the wall, but it was nice. He usually avoided bars because they were loud and packed with rowdy people, but this place was more his style. As the bartender arrived to serve him, Phil gave him a broad smile.

The bartender said, “Hi there, I’m Johnathan. What can I get you?”

“A cocktail. Um…” Phil looked around for a menu but didn’t see one nearby. “Something sweet.”

“I make a mean Hurricane.”

“I’ll take it,” Phil said with a grin. “Thanks, Johnathan.”

“I’ll pay for it,” said a man who slid into the barstool beside him.

Phil’s eyebrows rose, since he hadn’t been expecting that, and it took him a few seconds to recover from the shock. He was single, so there was no harm in accepting the drink and talking to this guy for a moment, so he composed his face and turned to the bold stranger with a smile.

The first thing that Phil noticed was that the stranger’s hair was styled in a similar way to his own. Well, it would have been similar, but Phil had recently started combing his black fringe back from his face in a quiff. The stranger had his brown fringe combed across his forehead, and Phil liked it, thinking that they might have a common emo past. Maybe they liked the same kind of music.

“Thanks for the drink,” Phil said.

“You’re welcome,” the brown-haired stranger said. He bit his lip, hesitating before saying, “I don’t want this to be weird, so I’ll just come out and say this: I know who you are.”

Phil stiffened. “Oh? Who am I?”

“You’re Phil Lester. You host a show for BBC Radio 1. I know you probably get people coming up to you all the time, but I hope the fact that I’m upfront about why I’m talking to you has earned me some points. Please? I’ll go away if I’m annoying you.”

Phil’s Hurricane arrived at this time, and the stranger stopped talking while the bartender was nearby, wiping a spot on the countertop. Phil took the opportunity to enjoy a sip of the cocktail, savoring the sweetness of the grenadine with the smooth rum. He turned back to the stranger with the smile. “You’re not annoying me. It’s okay. And I appreciate that you’re being honest – I thought you came over to flirt at first.”

The stranger’s cheeks flushed. “Sorry, I like women. You’re cute though. I’d be into you if I liked men.”

Things were a bit awkward now and Phil regretted mentioning it. So, he decided to change the subject, as he asked, “What did you want to talk about?”

“Okay, about that…” The brown-haired man took a deep breath as he tried to relax. Once he’d steadied himself, he said, “I just wanted to talk to you about my music.”

Phil kept his face carefully composed. This wasn’t the first time a hopeful musician had randomly approached him, and it wouldn’t be the last. Some people in his position would be annoyed and snap that they had no control over what was played on the radio, but Phil had resolved to be polite, listen, and then direct the man to where he could submit his music. So, he said, “What kind of instrument do you play?”

“Acoustic guitar. And I sing!” The man answered excitedly. “I do a lot of covers of songs, but original work as well. Actually, I recorded a single. I have it on a CD in my car. If you wait here, I can go get it and—”

This was where Phil drew the line, so he held up his hands, hoping that he wasn’t crushing this guy’s dreams. He hated disappointing people, but there was nothing he could do. “Um, actually… I’m sorry, but I don’t accept submissions. I’m sure your music is great, but I don’t have control over what is played on the radio. The BBC has a PO Box where they accept CDs. They also accept things online in MP3 format if you send in a form. I can give you the form, but there’s nothing else I can do.”

“Oh,” the man said as he sagged in his seat. “Yeah, that makes sense. I get that your job isn’t to find new talent.”

Phil bit his lip, since that wasn’t exactly true. His boss had heard about a piano player who regularly worked as an entertainer at this bar, and she had sent Phil here to listen. If the guy was as good as the rumors said, Phil was supposed to approach him to offer an appearance on his radio show. It was unlike anything he had ever done for the BBC before, and his boss wouldn’t be pleased if he brought her a CD from a stranger he met at a bar, so there was nothing he could do for this guitar player.

Phil rolled the cocktail between his palms. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help. I feel guilty drinking this now.”

“Oh, don’t be. Enjoy it. Accept it as payment for putting up with my annoying presence,” the man said with an awkward smile.

“You’re not annoying.”

“Seriously?” The man snorted. “Have you heard my voice?”

Phil laughed before enjoying another sip of the cocktail. “I like your accent. Are you Canadian?”

“Yup. Oh! I haven’t told you my name, have I?” He extended a hand to Phil. “I’m Robert. Thanks for being so nice.”

Phil shook his hand, feeling fingers calloused by the musician’s trade. “Nice to meet you, Robert.”

After he let go of Phil’s hand, Robert gestured to a stage across the room, near the tables and chairs that were slowly filling as the night crowd entered the bar. “Phil, I know you’re not here for the music, but I hope you’ll stick around. Just for the entertainment value of the evening. I’m planning to put on a good show tonight.”

Once more, this stranger had surprised him. Phil asked, “Oh, are you performing?”

“Yeah, I work here regularly as an entertainer. I’m opening tonight, so you wouldn’t have to stick around for long to hear me.”

“I’m going to stick around,” Phil reassured him with a smile. He was supposed to stay here to listen to the piano player anyway, so he might as well make this stranger happy at the same time. Robert was the kind of guy who he could see himself being friends with anyway – if this whole encounter hadn’t been so awkward. But maybe they could get past that.

“Great! I look forward to seeing you in the crowd.” Robert slid off the stool and then walked away, leaving Phil to enjoy the last of the Hurricane.

Until the live music started, Phil passed the time by sitting at the bar, playing Animal Crossing on his phone. It wasn’t long before he heard a microphone screech as it was turned on. Phil shifted on the barstool so that he could see the stage.

Robert was sitting on a wooden stool with a guitar resting on his knees. He was messing with the microphone to adjust its height, which made it screech again. He leaned in to say, “Sorry about that. Um, hi there. I’m Robert. I’m going to sing a cover for you tonight. This is an awesome song that I used to perform live a lot at my school. It’s a classic, really. This song was pretty much the song that would get the most audience interaction, so… yeah, I always enjoy that.”

After clearing his throat, Robert began strumming his guitar in the familiar rhythm and tune of I Would Walk 500 Miles, and Phil settled against the bar as he enjoyed Robert’s rendition of it. Robert did a good job of filling the room with energy, and soon the people watching were clapping to the beat of the music. As the crowd got into it, Robert relaxed and his awkwardness faded. Phil was enjoying it, so he applauded enthusiastically after the song.

Robert’s set continued for a few more covers, but then his time on the stage came to a close. He leaned into the microphone. “I want to thank you all. You’ve been a lovely audience and I’ve had a lot of fun tonight. I’m going to turn the stage over to my colleague, Daniel Howell. Be sure to give him a warm welcome.”

Recognizing the name of the piano player who his boss had sent him here to see, Phil sat up straighter in his seat as he focused on the stage. Robert stepped down from the stage and exited through a staff doorway to the left with his guitar. A moment later, another man stepped through the door.

Most of the people in the room like Phil were expectantly tracking the piano player’s entrance, but he didn’t look up as he walked up the steps. This was in stark contrast to Robert, who had entered with a nervous smile and an eager wave to the audience at the tables. The piano player just acted oblivious to it all. Without even glancing at the people in the room, he glided towards a piano near the back of the stage. The piano was angled so that he faced the audience when he sat on the stool behind it, and there was a microphone mounted on top of it.

Without a word, he started playing a tune that Phil didn’t recognize. The notes drifted softly through the room, just as noninvasive and unimposing as the man who had drifted into the room to play them. The music wove around the room until it transformed the atmosphere, softening it, and Phil found himself letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding.

Phil looked around the room, seeing other people relax. Unlike the guitar player who had perched on the edge of the stage, demanding the audience’s attention, this performer allowed his audience to listen passively as they returned to whispered dinner conversation. This made Phil frown as he focused on the piano player – Daniel Howell was talented, sure, but so far he hadn’t done anything extraordinary. Nothing that would stir a rumor prompting an executive at the BBC to send Phil here to investigate. It made him curious, so he looked closer for something he might have missed.

The man was dressed in black from head to toe, like he wanted to blend in with the shadows in the room, but that wasn’t likely to happen. His face was stunning, which Phil could note even at the considerable distance from the bar to the stage. He had dark eyes with long lashes that splayed across his cheeks as he looked down to focus on the keys which he worked with his elegant fingers. Daniel’s hair was lovely, too. It was a mass of tousled brown curls that was swept to the side across his forehead.

When Daniel looked up suddenly and his eyes scanned the crowd, Phil’s heart skipped a beat when the piano player’s eyes passed over his face. Maybe there was something to the rumors about this man? Phil had expected Daniel’s attention to return to the keys after a moment, but he continued playing without looking down. Instead, he leaned towards the microphone mounted on top of the piano. He started to sing.

For many hours after this moment, Phil would try to recall what Daniel had sung. He would never be able to remember a single word of it. If Daniel’s piano playing had drifted softly through the room, then the notes of his song sparked along the synapses of Phil’s brain. The music invaded his mind. His head felt funny, almost like he was drunk with the music.

Everything in the room was fuzzy – everything but the lovely man who was singing as he sat behind the piano. All Phil could see was Daniel’s beautiful face, glowing in the soft yellow lighting that was strung from the ceiling above the stage. His dark eyes were sparkling. The slight tan of his skin was radiant.

And his voice… Phil still couldn’t say what the words of the song were, but he found that his heart had started beating in time with the rhythm of the music. It felt like Daniel was holding his life in his hands – Daniel was his master, and Phil’s heart was only allowed to beat at a certain pace decided by the singer. And Phil couldn’t have been happier about that fact.

Time had ceased to have meaning, so it felt like both an instant and also a lifetime had passed when Daniel stopped singing and took his hands away from the keys. Phil’s heart stuttered in his chest before resuming its normal rhythm, and he blinked a few times before shaking his head to clear it. When he reopened his eyes, he saw several other people in the room trying to shake off the spell that Daniel had cast over them. Gradually, the normal noises of the bar resumed, which seemed obscene in comparison to the beautiful music that had filled the space a moment before.

As Phil shook his head once more and rubbed his eyes clarity finally arrived, and he remembered that he came here to talk to the piano player. When he looked up, he saw that the stage was now empty and Daniel had left the room. Phil rose from the bar stool and walked towards the staff door, thinking that since Robert had walked through it after his performance, perhaps Daniel went that way, too. As he approached the door, the bartender from earlier pushed through the door carrying a towel, and he blinked in surprise to see Phil standing outside.

“Um, hi again, Johnathan. Is Daniel Howell back there? Could I speak to him?”

The bartender shook his head. “Sorry, man. He left right after he got off the stage. Maybe you could catch him tomorrow? He’s performing again.”

“Thanks,” Phil said with a sigh. Then he headed for the door and started walking home.

When Phil turned on his laptop later that night, there was an email from his boss asking him if he went to see Mr. Howell’s performance tonight. Phil bit his lip as he contemplated emailing back now. While he had hoped to accomplish more before reporting back to his boss, the whole thing had been phrased as more of a friendly request than a job. Also, he had made some progress, so he had something to report. Phil typed:

Hi, Gina.

I saw the piano player, and he was everything you’d been hoping for. He’d be great to have on the show. I wanted to invite him on as soon as I heard him, but he left right after. Apparently he’s performing tomorrow, so I’m going to go back to try again. I’ll let you know how that goes.

-Phil

After a quick trip to the kitchen to microwave some popcorn for a late-night snack, Phil settled before the tv. He left it on a cooking show while he enjoyed his popcorn. His laptop was still open on the coffee table, and it pinged with a notification to let him know that he had a new email. He saw that his boss had responded to his email, and he pulled his laptop closer to read it:

Phil,

Thanks for doing this. I know that none of this is a part of your usual job duties, so I want you to know that I appreciate the fact that you’re going above and beyond. I hadn’t explained earlier why I sent you down there, when this isn’t our usual process. I’d like to explain now.

Daniel Howell has been very evasive. We have tried contacting him by phone, email, even snail mail, but no response. I’m hoping that Mr. Howell has a different reaction when the offer comes from the mouth of an actual radio show host.

So, he really was as good as I’d been told? What did he perform? Thanks again!

-Gina

Well, there was no avoiding that question, and putting off answering wouldn’t help. Phil’s face was flushed as he typed and sent his reply:

My memory is a bit hazy at the moment, but yes he was very good. Sorry I can’t give you any specifics.

-Phil

Gina’s response came in only a couple minutes later, but it took Phil a few more moments to find the courage to see what his boss said. Finally, he read:

You were a bit sloshed? :D I’m not going to judge you for having a drink – you were off the clock. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. Good night. Don’t forget to drink some water.

-Gina

Phil exhaled in relief. Not that he had expected Gina to be upset with him. He tried to keep things professional with her, but Gina was a friendly boss who had always tested that barrier and assured Phil that he could be casual around her. In moments like this where he felt he hadn’t done his best at work – though her comment about being off the clock had been true – he appreciated that she was understanding. She was so understanding that she often pointed out to him that he was a workaholic.

Sighing, Phil closed his laptop and settled onto his sofa, intending to go to bed once he finished his popcorn. He was off work tomorrow and he had the whole day to himself until he had to go back to the bar tomorrow night. He’d sit on the sofa, try to relax on the internet, and not think about things that he could do to prepare for his radio show. He needed to remember how to have fun. Tonight had really shown him that.

Phil had forgotten how to do normal things like go to a bar, have a drink with a guy who might become a friend, and admire a beautiful face across a room. It had been a long time. And it had also been a long time since he looked forward to the plans he had tomorrow night; he could almost forget that it was sort of for work. All he could think about was the fact that he was going to finally talk to the captivating singer who he couldn’t get off his mind.

____

A/N:

Special thanks are especially in order, since this is the first time I've worked with betas. Thank you so much to:

- to @msdorebom for beta reading the first couple chapters, I was honored to be her first time beta-ing :)

- to @hydrangea-fireheart on tumblr for also reading the first couple chapters, and for having the discussion with me that led to chapter 3

- and to AmazingDandroid on AO3 for beta reading those chapters and the rest, and for being especially helpful with the stuff about music and listening to me whine about things like wanting to change the title for 2 weeks

Also to:

- to PastelSkysz on AO3 for having the discussion with me about mythology that led to me have this idea!

#phandom #phanfiction #phanfic #dan and phil #dan x phil #sirens #mermaid #merman

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speedilyloudpaper · 6 years

Text

1 0 t o w i n

‘OK Jeff. Which group supported Smokey Robinson on The Tears of a Clown in 1970?’

A clock sound effect ticks.

‘Um.. I think that were The Miracles’

Ding

‘Correct, well done! Question 10, listen carefully… name the song title and artist of the following 90s one hit wonder.’

‘You’ve got this, Jeff!’ adds the radio Dj, nonchalantly. Despite his genuine admiration at Jeff’s knowledge of music, he couldn’t make himself interested in the outcome of today’s Ten to Win.

And if you think

That I've been losing my way

That's because I'm slightly blinded

And if you think

That I don't make too much sense

That's because

I'm broken minded

Jeff did have this, he remembers playing a cover of it when he was younger. Suddenly he’s back on stage of the Hillsborough Working Men’s club, clad in freshly ripped jeans and a white T shirt with the sleeves rolled over his shoulders, thrashing his bass guitar like his life depended on it. Yes, he can see the setlist in front of him in his mind’s eye.

‘I think that was... Inside, by um Stiltskin’

‘Congratulations Jeff! That’s 10 out of 10, you really do know your music. You just won yourself a digital radio!’

Jeff feels immense elation having won the quiz, indeed this is the most exciting thing that has happened to him all year.

‘Aw fantasti-’

‘Yeah really well done. Is there anyone you’d like to give a shoutout to, Jeff?’

Jeff sits on the sofa in his living room with his new smartphone held next to his ear, wearing an old Aerosmith T shirt and dressing gown. The room is small and sparsely furnished, with a threadbare carpet and dated off white floral wallpaper. Beside the sofa is a small wooden cabinet. Across the room, next to a fireplace in which stands an electric fan heater, is a huge flat screen impulse-bought television playing on mute. There are no ornaments other than a few photographs on the mantelpiece and an ashtray on the cabinet. Old and yellowing white lace curtains droop over the window, allowing in a little light. In the corner by the window sits an acoustic guitar on a black stand.

‘Um, yeah.. There’s my cousin Derek, who’ll be listening at work’ says Jeff. His cousin wouldn’t usually be the first person to enter his mind, but hearing that track had started a flood of memories of his days in his old band, which Derek, or Del back then, was the lead singer, along with his best mates Tony and Gaz on drums and guitar. The memories bring a wave of nostalgia, but also something else.

‘Also my two sons, Will and Joey, they’re both at their mother’s today, but they said they’d listen t’ the show… um.. All the fellas at work and… and’

He stares at the bare wall above the television set. Suddenly his eyes feel weary and his face feels heavy. Another memory comes to him.

He’s sitting in the passenger seat of his uncle’s van with his bandmates, their equipment in the back. BBC radio 2 is playing over the speakers, for background noise and so the guys could complain to each other about radio stations never playing ‘real music’. In truth, Jeff quite liked the old pop songs they would play, but he wouldn’t have told any of the others. He liked and respected most genres of music, which was probably what made him the most talented at writing songs for the band.

A man had just lost a quiz and was asked if he’d like to mention anybody. It was always men or women of a certain age, who would proceed to reel off a pre prepared list of people they knew like they’d just won a BAFTA, usually followed by the line ‘and anybody else who knows me that I haven’t mentioned’, like everybody they’ve ever met is listening, and they can shout in all of their faces ‘Remember me? Look at me now! I’m on radio!’, Jeff thought.

‘Listen to this guy, makin’ such a big deal of being on the radio’ grunts Tony distastefully, his elbow resting on the window frame, holding a lit cigarette out of the window. ‘I bet this feels like his 15 minutes of fame. After he hangs up he’ll go back to being a fuckin’ nobody.’ The rest nod in agreement. ‘I tell you now lads’ he continues ‘we’re not gonna be like that. We’ll be on the radio alright, just not doing a stupid quiz’

‘Hopefully we won’t be played on a crap station like this.’ adds Jeff, earning him a few chuckles from the others. He didn’t like classing people as nobodies or successes, but he did agree with his mate. In fact each member of the band had a desire to make something of themselves. He supposed it was due to angst of growing up in a small northern town, however he was sure that in himself, and perhaps the others, it came from something much deeper, didn’t it?. It was about doing more with his life than he watched those around him do. He didn’t want to live in the future, in the past or only at the weekend, he wanted to really live for every second, following his passion and putting his heart into what he did; and what he was passionate about, more than anything, was music.

‘Jeff? Sorry I’m going to have to hurry you up’

‘Um yeah. Sorry. A-and...’ he lets out a sigh and a dry laugh, almost mocking himself.

‘And everybody who knows me who I haven’t mentioned’ he hears himself say.

The nostalgia recedes like an ocean tide, leaving him empty and all too aware of the present moment, the empty flat, the familiar silence except the sound of water running through pipes and occasional quiet whoosh of a car passing outside. The radio host says something but he isn’t listening, and he’s put on hold.

Jeff thinks of all the people who know him who he hasn’t mentioned. Other members of his family, who he keeps meaning to see more often, his friends he meets at the weekends to play pool and get drunk, and his coworkers, who he sees almost every day.

Cher’s ‘If I Could Turn Back Time’ plays in his ear, distorted and crackling, as he pictures the last 20 years of faces, and with the faces, memories.

The band had played regularly for three years, playing to crowds that increased in size each night, earning themselves a small following. One of their best performances was at a nightclub in Leeds, to a crowd of over a thousand people. The frenzy of the crowd was like nothing the band had seen before. People were jumping up and down and bouncing off of each other like one giant crazy pounding mass of screaming faces and waving arms that could burst through the walls. The energy that came off this thing was immense, like a powerful force that spurred the band to another level. By the end of the show, each member of the band was utterly worn out and dripping with sweat, the pickups on Gaz’s guitar were splattered with blood from his fingers (which they all found extremely cool).

It wasn’t just the performance that made that night so special for Jeff, it was also the night he met his wife. After the show, the band had gone to the club’s bar, where each had necked the most refreshing beer they would ever taste. After ordering a second they were approached by a girl with red lipstick and a big wavy hairstyle, who introduced herself as Debbie, saying how great the performance was. She was clearly drawn to Jeff more than the others, to his surprise. Admittedly, being the bass player, he was often overlooked by their female fans after the show, something that Del and Gaz would enjoy winding him up about. Because of this, and the fact he was still coated with sweat and had beer dripping from his chin, he didn’t expect her to be interested in him, but she was, and the two got on well. She had travelled with the band for a while before moving into Jeff’s flat. She saw Jeff as a perfect opportunity to get away from her parents, and the fact he played in a rock band was an added bonus. Perhaps she had rushed things a little, but she did suppose she loved him.

Six months later. The two are in the kitchen. Debbie is pregnant. The two had known for a while, yet neither had really mentioned the changes that were soon to come, especially regarding the band. Eventually she decided they’d avoided it for long enough, and brought it up one day before breakfast. She explained that having a baby meant that he’d have to get a job with a more steady income, and that he wouldn’t be able to travel as much with the band anymore. Of course Jeff had already thought about this, he just didn’t want to face the truth. On top of this, she also said that traveling with the band had had an effect on her as well, and that they weren’t spending as much time together as she’d like. This he hadn’t thought about. Obviously they weren’t the only couple to have thought about this, as a day later, the band were in Gaz’s living room, his girlfriend in the kitchen, when Gaz suggests that they call it quits on the band. They all eventually agree.

Del manages to get Jeff a job at Hardy & Co, the factory where Del’s brother worked. Jeff remembers being in the interview, sat across from some miserable looking manager, who had huge bags under his eyes and yellowed uneven teeth and sour breath, trying to explain his O levels and how hard he was willing to work blah blah blah, when all he could really think about was leaving his dreams and passion behind for a 9 to 5 job that meant nothing to him. He got the job and since then life had gone on like it does for most. He and Deborah got married. The baby was born followed by another a year later. At the factory he worked his way from floor assistant to supervisor. He struggled to think of anything that had made his life much different from the thousands of other ‘nobodies’ his age, apart from, maybe, the fact that his wife cheated on him. Then again that might be more common than you think, he thought, if television dramas are anything to go by.

Of course, he hadn’t spent his life in misery, dwelling on the fact that his band never became a major success. He’d had his ups and downs like anybody. There had been moments of immense happiness, such as his wedding day or when he held his children for the first time. In fact, until hearing that song in the radio quiz, he hadn’t thought about his band or old dreams in a few years. He never forgot his love of music either, as he was always listening to new tapes and CDs, and was known by his colleagues as the man to go to to settle an argument about who topped the charts in what year, or who played a certain song. He had a job to do all day, friends to meet at the weekend, and kept himself entertained in his free time, like everyone does.

Only seeing the years flash before him now made it seem so empty and pointless, leaving him feeling overwhelmed with regret and hopelessness and with a sinking in his chest. He felt like he’d failed himself. Like he’d let himself down. He couldn’t just blame himself though, and he started to feel irritated at the whole world for screwing things up for him.

His talent, his dreams, his passion for music had come to nothing. Well, he had gained one thing from it all; winning this radio quiz. Maybe he’d impressed a few listeners. Maybe he’d --

‘Hello? Is that Jeff’

Jeff stands up quickly when he hears the voice, remembering he should be ecstatic that he’s won the quiz, but unable to shake that strange mix of wistfulness and exasperation.

‘Yeah... still here’

When did I become such a fucking failure

‘Hi, congrats on winning today’s quiz. Could you please tell us your full name and address so we can send you your Sony D.A.B radio?’

This is what his lifelong love for music had come down to. This is what he had to show for it all. A Sony D.A.B fucking radio. Maybe he could show it off to visitors. Maybe people would ask him where he got it from, and he could tell them how he had won the quiz. It wasn’t much but it was something. He snickers at himself again, sardonically.

‘Yeah yeah, it’s um Jeff Stephens--’

The phone beeps.

‘Hello?’

No reply.

He takes the phone away from his ear and looks at the screen. Instantly he realises the stupid phone has hung up, like it keeps doing all the fucking time. I don’t even get the fucking radio. He isn’t sure whether he wants to laugh or cry.

He stands motionless in the silent room for a few seconds. The empty hole inside him has quickly filled with white-hot rage.

‘FUCK!’ he screams at the top of his voice, straining the veins in his face.

‘FUCKING SHIT FUCKING--’ he aggressively lobs the piece of shit smartphone at his guitar in the corner, smashing the screen, snapping the case and leaving a huge dent in his guitar.

‘PIECE OF SHIT’ he yells, his voice faltering this time. He collapses into the sofa, his anger becoming despair.

‘Stupid fucking phone’ he cries.

‘Stupid fucking guitar, fucking band’ tears fill his eyes.

‘Fucking job... fucking kids...fucking...all this shit’

He opens his mouth to say something else but doesn’t, and slumps back further into his sofa and he doesn’t move for a while.

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ollyarchive · 6 years

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Olly Alexander on harnessing the power of sexual fantasy in pop

The Years & Years frontman talks about owning his queer sexuality in the mainstream and writing a twisted disco album about ‘holy wood’

Owen Myers

9 March 2018

“It’s like my Rihanna Loud era,” declares Olly Alexander, before breaking into a laugh. The Years & Yearsfrontman is referring to his cropped curly hair, which is freshly coloured to the hue of a nice Merlot. It’s a cold February evening, and he’s puffing on a roll-up while huddled in the fire exit doorway of a Camden venue. His new dye job has to be kept under wraps, he explains, until its official unveiling in the band’s new video. “It’s so stupid,” Olly says with an eye roll. He then flashes me a grin, suggesting that this moment of starry subterfuge is not entirely unwelcome.

Olly Alexander really likes being a pop star. He says that it’s full of “fairytale” moments, like when his Years & Years earnings enabled him to buy his mum a house, or when he and his ex-boyfriend, Neil Milan (formerly of Clean Bandit), became embraced as British pop’s new golden couple. After winning the BBC Sound poll in 2015, Years & Years’ earworm synth pop was everywhere. They had an inescapable number one single, “King”, and their album Communion was the fastest selling debut that year from a signed British band. Olly says that there are downsides to the tabloid headlines and Twitter trolls that come along with being “a public gay man” – a phrase that he puts in self-deprecating air quotes. But right now, those pressures feel far away, as he prepares to change into a bright pink boiler suit and play to a boozed-up Saturday night crowd, at an Annie Mac-curated showcase. Or, as he put it on Twitter earlier today: bring his “gay agenda” to The Roundhouse.

Years & Years’ great new single, “Sanctify”, contrasts lurking vocals with an ecstatic synth-fuelled chorus, and is as unapologetic as any of Olly’s pithy social media posts. He was newly single when he wrote the song, and reading Andrew Holleran’s 1978 chronologue of gay desire, Dancer From the Dance, had got him thinking about a couple of hookups he’d had with straight-identifying men. “It would always be under darkness,” he says. “It had this added layer of eroticism because it was somewhat forbidden. But (being with me) was a window where they could be themselves, and I felt responsible not to fuck them up.” Those conflicting feelings come through in evocative lyrics about obscuring masks and sinful confessions, with a climax that’s about as on-the-nose as chart pop gets. “I sanctify my sins when I pray,” says Olly, quoting the chorus’s payoff. “What do you do what you pray? You get on your knees. So is it a sexual baptism?” He laughs. “I was just like, ‘There’s a lot to work with here.’”

Years & Years are a three-piece, but the other two members, Mikey Goldsworthy and Emre Türkmen, tend to hunker down behind synths and let Olly take centre stage. His soul-searching lyrics give the band’s maximalist pop its heart, with a singing voice that pierces through a constellation of synths. Their videos bring acts which are often shrouded in darkness into the light, showing the singer cruising in a dank car park, or at a pansexual orgy. The new “Sanctify” visual riffs on dom/sub culture, with an elaborate sci-fi plot that is a device for Olly to perform “Slave 4 U”-inspired dance moves to an audience of androids. When he was commissioned to write a song for the Bridget Jones franchise, he made it about bottoming. “I have sex, I enjoy sex,” he says flatly. He’s sitting in his cosy dressing room the Roundhouse, which rumbles with bass as Disclosure and Mabel soundcheck next door. “In the past, I think gay men (in pop) have often shied away from being overtly sexual, or being commanding of their sexuality. But I believe that our sexual fantasies are a big drive for us all. Exploring that side of yourself is super empowering.”

In the past year or so, many well-known LGBTQ artists have begun to bring queerness into their music in sex-positive ways. Pop’s boy-next-door Troye Sivan strapped on Tom Of Finland leathers for a back alley moment with well-fluffed trade, Janelle Monáe caressed women’s bare thighs, Fever Ray returned with a concept album about queer kink. For better or worse, Sam Smith is now calling himself a “dick monster”on primetime telly. “Sometimes seeing a man express themselves in an overtly sexual way, especially a gay man, makes certain conservative people feel a bit uncomfortable,” Olly says. “I always wanna keep people a little uncomfortable.”

“I believe that our sexual fantasies are a big drive for us all. Exploring that side of yourself is super empowering” – Olly Alexander

Years & Years are far from the first mainstream British pop act to proudly put gay sexuality at the centre of their music – that’s a lineage that runs from Will Young to George Michael, Pet Shop Boys to Bronski Beat, and beyond. But Olly’s performances are a reminder that mainstream pop can be open to explicit queerness (at least, when it’s embodied in a handsome white cis man). Olly has faith that you don’t have to be “generic to be palatable,” and that “straight guys can hear a song that I’ve written about being fucked by another guy, but still relate.” LGBTQ+ people like me grew up seeing straight culture pretty much everywhere; seeing more of our community thrive is crucial.

Growing up in the Forest of Dean, Gloucestershire, Olly was a flamboyant kid. That got him bullied at school, called a “batty boy” before he was even aware that he was gay, and meant that he retreated into drama lessons. While acting, he felt it was okay – a good thing, even – to be expressive. He always nurtured a passion for music, too; he taught himself how to play Joni Mitchell songs on piano, and obsessed over “Dirrty”-era Christina Aguilera. An early performance at a year six assembly blended intimate songwriting and outré entertainment: Olly played piano and sang lyrics about lost love, while two of his friends did a dance routine.

In his late teens and early 20s, Olly cropped up in whimsical micro-budget indie films like 2011’s The Dish And The Spoon, alongside Greta Gerwig, as well as Gaspar Noé’s Enter The Void, and Skins. But his early experiences at school stayed with him. “Your first encounter with your sexuality is often from people bullying you and calling you the thing that you just pray to god that you won’t be – but deep down suspect you might be,” Olly says. “Well, no wonder we have an incredibly conflicting relationship with our bodies and our sexualities, because we’ve had to experience all of that.”

Reflecting on these difficult early years in his dressing room, Olly speaks openly about his own decade-long experience with depression, and the inadequate NHS provisions for those who are struggling with mental health. LGBTQ+ folks disproportionately struggle with depression and substance abuse, he recognises, and there’s only one UK organisation, London Friend, that caters directly to the specific needs of the queer community. “I’ve been there,” says Olly. “They’re amazing, but they are over-subscribed, with a tiny office, old chairs, and not a lot of money. When you’re seeing that people aren’t getting the help they should be, there’s an issue there.” That’s something he knows from first-hand experience. Last year, Olly fronted a BBC documentary, Growing Up Gay, about young LGBTQ+ people struggling with their mental health. His openness around the subject made him a kind of ambassador for those struggles, and he’s trying to work out how to deal with the “almost daily” DMs he gets from people at their lowest moments. “I feel very privileged that someone is wanting to share that with me, but it’s frightening,” he says. “We’re all in fucking pain, and I don’t know if we’re communicating with each other that well.”

“What do we expect a male pop star to do? As a society, how do we want them to behave or present themselves?” – Olly Alexander

Years & Years’ second album, out later this year, mixes gliding pop melodies with churning bass and twisted disco. The new songs feel more varied and exploratory than Communion, thanks in part to new collaborators like current pop’s minimalist masterminds Julia Michaels and Justin Tranter, as well as Greg Kurstin, who co-wrote “Shine”, Years & Years’ best song to date. The album’s centred around a motif of Palo Santo, a healing incense-like wood that you burn and waft around a room. (Olly dramatises this with hand motions as if he’s conducting an invisible orchestra.) Perhaps Palo Santo, with its power to expel evil spirits, could be a metaphor for the songwriting process? Maybe, Olly says. “But (when writing the album) I was angry about loads of things, particularly men. Palo Santo literally means ‘holy wood’ and I was like, ‘This is fucking perfect.’ Like, thinking that your dick is holy? I’ve known guys like that.”

Years & Years’ renewed vision also extends to creating a futuristic universe for their new music to exist in. That’s an idea that Olly’s idols – “Bowie, Prince, and Gaga” – have embraced, and “Sanctify” is the first part of an interconnected series of “weird, wonderful” videos. It marks the next step for a band aiming to join British pop’s pantheon, at a time when Olly, too, has been reflecting on his place in music. “What do we expect a male pop star to do?” he questions. “As a society, how do we want them to behave or present themselves? If I was asking myself, it would be like, ‘Well actually, I’ve always loved this kind of popstar. Maybe I should just be the pop star I want to see in the world.”

#olly alexander #years & years #yearsandyears #articles #interviews #dazed

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juliehamill · 6 years

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15 Minutes with John Bradley, Game Of Thrones actor and Morrissey fan

This past October I listened to John Bradley’s interview at the Morrissey/Maida Vale event on BBC Radio 6 Music. He had been plucked from the crowd to talk about Morrissey live on air without warning. The power of Morrissey is not always easy to articulate without saying something about him that has been repeatedly said before; or without drawing on words or lyrics that the artist himself has written. I’m always looking out for people that can bring a new angle to Morrissey, and I found one in John Bradley. I liked his words. They were free, they were new, they were fresh, they were his own and I enjoyed listening to his very clever, eloquent and sincere perspective about what the singer meant to him, and the extremity of the connection. It was great to hear somebody else crack Morrissey in a positive light. We became friends quite quickly, in a rather polite and private manner, which, having now met him, I suspect is the John Bradley approach to most things in life.

The Game of Thrones antihero and I met at the beginning of December at the Ibis in Manchester for a ’15 Minutes’ interview that spun into two hours. Up close his face is creamy coloured, soft, unblemished and unwrinkled. A natural full rounded beard cuddles his chin. His outlook on life is smiley, childlike and open, which he puts down to being ‘infantilized’. I can see why people are very fond of twenty-nine year old John (particularly women, particularly my Game of Thrones-fan sister); he keeps his hat and coat on the whole way through the interview, like a boy on his first day of nursery. He’s kind of like Peter Pan, but with a wisened encyclopedic brain.

We talked in depth about Morrissey, a love for the seventies and eighties culture, an era when he was barely even born (and yet somehow seems to truly belong) his taste in music, his tea with one sugar, Bullseye, Dad’s Army, Primula cheese spread, his (and my) very favourite Vintage TV (Sky 369) and the popular appeal (and similarities to) the lovable Samwell Tarly. His theory on the new album, Low In High School is that after years of sexual frustration and failure, Morrissey appears to be having relationship success: ‘Morrissey is experiencing his adolescence, finally.’

He likes Prawn Cocktail crisps, pineapple on his pizza and his favourite film is Raging Bull. After a diet coke with ice and a hearty discussion of crunching crisps in time to music, the baby-faced mastermind waved me off with a smile before he flew back to Neverland-Wythenshawe.

JH: Please say your full name.

JB: My full legal name?

JH: You have an illegal name?

JB: My legal name is John Bradley West and my professional name is John Bradley. It matters less now that it used to because you used to have to be part of the actor’s union. I was part of it when I left drama school and they make you change your name if there’s somebody else already has it. I just thought John Bradley was a nice way of maintaining some of me, and not having to change it wholesale. Bradley is my middle name and acts as a first second name. It’s also the name of my dad’s maternal family, their surname. It’s good to keep two thirds of my name and keep it in the family a little bit. I owe my family too much of a debt to write them out of history!

JH: Are you named after anybody?

JB: I’m named after my dad, John, which is… I like the idea of that linear thing, handing on the baton of the name to the younger generation. Although it does have its confusing moments when my mum is shouting on us! If my mum was talking about me, I was always ‘Little John’. Even now I’m twice the size of my dad I’m still little John and my dad is ‘Big un’. I took my mum’s surname and my dad’s religion. My mum is Church of England and my dad is Catholic. They both got what they wanted! My parents are still together but not married which I think… there’s a lesson to be learned. They’re on very solid ground on their relationship and they know what they mean to each other. They didn’t feel that they needed a ‘gesture’.

JH: Are you taking your coat off?

JB: No.

JH: Are you not staying?

JB: I am staying. People in Manchester leave their coats on. We just like leaving our coats on. Look at interviews of all those Manchester bands. The coats are on. I think it’s because in Manchester if you’ve not got a bit of money and you’re going to spend it on anything, you’re going to spend it on a good coat.

JH: Can you describe yourself in a sentence?

JB: I’m still trying to live up to the pressure of a young me.

JH: What kind of pressure did you put on your younger self?

JB: It was kind of pressure by second hand. I seem to remember I was quite a bright kid, a good kid. I didn’t really cause anybody any problems. I liked staying in with my mum and dad and I had my friends as well. My sister is thirteen years older than me so I didn’t really see her as a sister relationship. I kind of felt that she commanded a bit more respect than a sibling would. I grew up with very strong female role models in my life. Then my sister had my nephew and he’s only a little bit younger than me. I was four when he was born so I have a sibling relationship with him but in a longer way round.

As a kid I was constantly shown off to adults. I was no trouble, and clever, and so I would be brought out to talk to adults all the time, in an exhibition of how mature I was for my age. My parents were late thirties when they had me. I’ve always been exposed to a much older landscape. From an entertainer’s point of view I liked doing it. I lived my life on stage, even then really.

JH: How did you entertain everyone?

JB: I used to go into the hall and make a costume from my mum’s clothes. She had a blue overcoat that looked like Mr Bumble and I put that on and put her boots on. It was never my dad’s clothes! I’d come out and walk up and down while people clapped. There was no substance to it. I liked being looked at and being the centre of attention. It helped enormously in terms of proper acting. I was late getting started with complex emotion. I was happier at home pissing about for my family than I was out talking to girls. I remember being at drama school and they said, ‘you're very good and entertaining but you’ll never access the vulnerability you really need until you’ve loved something and lost it.’ I realised there was a lot of colours on that palate that I didn’t know. I needed to fulfill that prophecy and try to prove to people. I’m still infantilized and my insecurities are still there.

JH: You do have a baby-faced vulnerability to you, even now, at twenty-nine, if you don’t mind me saying so.

JB: I do have that and it’s a comfortable place for me to exist. I don’t drink either. I don’t like it, genuinely but also I think that would be another concession to adulthood. The child me is still the best me so I still try to be the child me. I don’t think adult me is quite an appealing prospect.

JH: When you came out of drama school, Game of Thrones Samwell Tarly was your first audition, and you got the part.

JB: Yeah, it was my first. The audition was from episode four of season one when Sam is telling Jon his backstory and why and how he’s got to the wall. That was such a lovely scene to audition because there’s so much character in it and it’s the full justification for that character. When he first arrived he was a source of great mystery and frustration and he incurs the wrath of people because he’s arrived at a place that’s very inhospitable and he’s expected to physically fight and physically survive. He’s completely ill equipped for life up there. It’s only when he explains that he’s in an impossible situation because his father hates him so much and has basically told him, ‘Go there or I’ll kill you!’ That’s when you realise what it’s like to be this man; he doesn’t know where to turn, or has any choice in life. He’s displaced.

JH: Do you share similarities with Sam Tarly?

JB: I think there are a lot of similarities, yeah. Good casting directors are able to pick that out of people. They can see stuff in you that you can’t see in yourself sometimes. Despite growing up in a family that showed me a lot of love, I still had a lot of self doubt. I was always the last person to believe something good about myself, and the first person to believe something bad. People ask me what have I learned as I’ve gone along with playing the character Sam, and it’s not about what I’ve learnt, it’s about what I’ve un-learnt. It’s not about taking things on; it’s about stripping away stuff and finding out who you really are in your core. That’s just as important as learning sometimes. I make jokes about things to protect myself. I’ll mention my weight before anybody else and I try to be funny all the time because I think that’s a side of myself that is appealing. I push that side of myself forward because I want to distract everybody away from the things that I don’t like. So as soon as you start to analyse yourself like that, you can see that sort of stuff in that character as well.

It’s only because I’ve learned that about myself that I can play Sam. At drama school they told me that I should play heroes, and I think I can do that. The heroic archetype. Because of that rodomontade – something I was comfortable with – was something they thought I could do.

JH: Everybody I’ve spoken to that watches Game Of Thrones seem to go, ‘Ahh!’ when I say the character’s name. Is he universally liked?

JB: No… there are people who hate Sam Tarly. Women seem to like him but a certain type of man doesn’t like to be reminded of their own vulnerabilities and they believe that men should be super strong and super stable. Men like that really hate characters like Sam. The thing about the character that I find interesting is that people say, ‘You turned brave.’ I think he was always brave.

JH: He’s very kind-hearted, the way he takes the woman and baby under his wing.

JB: When we were filming those scenes with Hannah and me the director said, ‘What you’ve got here is that you’ve got two birds and they’ve got a broken wing each. They can’t fly on their own but together they have a full set.’

JH: Is that how you like to be directed?

JB: Yes, poetically like that with metaphors and similes! Sometimes you’re just looking for a key to things and if you get imagery like that it can really unlock you, stay with you. These characters are very detailed and from moment to moment you’re in a different place. When Sam goes home to his family in season six that’s him in a different environment to what he’s ever been before. Sam is forbidden to have a wife so she’s not my wife. But he’s a rule breaker; he’s very subversive in his own low-key way.

JH: In the show, Jon Snow knows nothing. Tell me something that Jon Snow actually knows.

JB: Jon Snow doesn’t even know who his parents are! But I can tell you that he does know how to get great volume on a head of hair using just water.

JH: Ha ha! Is there a character that’s not in any of your scenes that you admire?

JB: I love Khaleesi. I really admire her. She’s had such a journey. If you take her to be what she was in season one which was a bargaining tool whose sexuality was exploited in such a despicable way and now she’s achieved so much and is a leader of men. She conquers men. She will dominate them, intellectually, spiritually, in every way.

JH: I had a feeling that she might be your favourite so I did bring a Khaleesi hairpiece and was wondering if you could put it on.

JB: I’m up for that.

JH: You can decide if the picture stays in the interview.

JB: I can’t see me going for that, I’ll be honest.

JH: Do you like to be recognised?

JB: I get recognised quite a bit. I like it, it’s interesting. People who watch it really like it so if they do recognise you it’s nice things to say. But people who don’t watch the show have no idea who you are so that’s quite a nice way to be, really.

JH: When did you discover music?

JB: I got into music at around thirteen or fourteen and I was quite happy with my outlook. I was fairly infantilized as an early teen. When I left school and went to sixth form college a lot of these feelings started to bubble up; feeling slightly isolated. That’s when Morrissey starts to make sense. When you’re feeling adrift, his hand comes out of the dark and says ‘you’re not the only one feeling this way.’

Then, when you find this community of other people who like Morrissey, everything you feel is okay. That’s why people stick with him because he is a friend in a time of need. Morrissey is able to let you know that a lot of the things you’re feeling, you’re not the only one feeling them. I think that’s why Morrissey is such a favourite with a certain type of person.

Morrissey sneaked up on me all at once. I started off the way most people start off, with greatest hits. You listen to it and there are so many greatest hits that you can’t believe you’ve avoided it for so long. I think it was one of those three for ten pounds CD things at HMV and I liked ‘Panic’. It was a Smiths Best and then after that I branched out.

Before Morrissey I connected to music on a visceral level. I liked things like AC/DC and I still do, but I realise now that I was just getting a sound from them. I didn’t really care what they were saying, their opinions or what the lyrics were, but I liked the sound. They didn’t represent what I feel about the world. It was surface and shallow and I enjoyed the sound of it. The lyrics are very insubstantial. If I’m going to get base about it it’s the difference between having sex and falling in love. When you fall in love you realise that everything you had before when you thought you were in love you were not. You just wanted to be. Before Morrissey everything else was a quick fix. I connected with him on a much more permanent level. It opened up a chapter to my life and my own self-discovery.

JH: Do you think Morrissey’s work has improved with age and experience?

JB: I think Morrissey is better for words. Ideologically every album and statement is different. You’re never quite sure what you’re going to get. He never ever gets dull. I don’t agree with everything he says and he probably wouldn’t agree with everything I said either but musically, lyrically, he’s unparalleled.

JH: Do you think that there are any replacements for the radical singers and artists of the eighties age? Who will replace Morrissey… John Lydon… Boy George and other mavericks?

JB: Ah! You say Boy George… I was watching Vintage TV…

JH: Oh my God that’s totally my favourite TV channel! 369! It’s our go-to when there’s nothing else on.

JB: I love that channel! So, Culture Club were on. They just look so interesting. They sound interesting but they look so good. Visually, the eighties seemed to be the peak of interesting looking people and then it regresses with Brit Pop when the uniform became waterproof coats and guitars. When you think of an individual now there’s so much record company stylisation behind the scenes. Some artists feel they have to hang on to their younger selves. The guy in AC/DC wears exactly the same clothes. Francis Rossi in Status Quo still wears the same clothes. They serve a purpose with their fans. There will never be that flutter when they put the needle on the record. They’re not scared of what they might hear. That’s why Morrissey is still so exciting. I went to see Robert Plant last night. He sounds like he did when he was young, but then I realised that what it was that he sounded like he was old when he was young.

JH: I think many bands sound older when they start out. If you listen back to the first Smiths album, I think Morrissey is trying to sound older than he is. His voice seems lower and deeper.

JB: That’s true, Morrissey has really expanded his range through the years. I think there will definitely be replacements for those very unique performers but the real question is will those replacements be allowed into the mainstream public consciousness the way the more challenging artists were in the past? Everybody knew The Sex Pistols. They, and punk in general, were a bone of contention between the youth and the older generation but they were allowed to break through into general popular culture. I think a lot of artists when faced with the choice between being a challenging voice with true principles and genuine anger but being forced to maintain esoteric, underground status OR being hugely successful and mainstream and get millions of followers on Instagram, I believe that there are still a healthy number of people who will be true to themselves with they are more likely to stay underground than they were in the 70s/80s. I think most of the authentic, angry, exciting and challenging artists are in the Grime world and those voices are so powerful and that talent is so potent that it couldn’t stay out of the mainstream for long. Stormzy and Giggs and Skepta and many others have managed to be absorbed into the popular consciousness without being sanitised and I think it’s just about the most important music out there at the moment for that reason.

JH: You’ve been a fan of Morrissey for twelve years. What makes him so enduring?

JB: It’s that people are constantly rediscovering him at a time of their life when they really need it. It will throw up devotions and confusions. You’ll always need that voice. Nobody has ever spoken to the disaffected in quite the same way. It’s not money, girls or drugs. If that’s not you, you can sometimes feel on the outside of music. Morrissey was the first real person to say ‘your weakness can be a huge strength. It’s okay to be different.’

JH: Let’s talk about Morrissey’s new album, ‘Low In High School’.

JB: When he announced his new album I was very excited about it. I was scared too! A lot of people are happy to tell me that my love for him is misplaced. People want Morrissey to be their Status Quo. They want Morrissey to be the same every time. True artists don’t do that. True artists challenge. All great artists present their case: ‘Just think about this for a second.’ A lot of people get so boxed in by their own beliefs that life becomes an echo chamber. It’s only through challenging your opinion that you realise how strong it is. I was delighted that I genuinely love this album. I think musically it is very brave. It’s challenging and there’s production and instrumentation that really is surprising. Every single one of his albums is very different and every single one of them has a place in time.

JH: I feel that the album is more like a score. A war torn musical. Complex, experimental, I love the musicality of it.

JB: Yeah I agree. I actually think that melodically in terms of the vocals it’s one of the more satisfying records he’s made for a long time. He sounds incredible. ‘Jacky’s Only Happy’ is the one from Maida Vale that I knew would be a standout. ‘All The Young People’ is gorgeous. It’s a very clever album and everybody is playing to capacity on it. I love the middle-eastern flavour of this one. He’s very good at capturing those moments, those stories in his life, from being in one country or another. He sounds happier! There are points in it where you feel that he’s more content. He’s talking about love more and sex more! The imagery! I’m embarrassed. I blush!

JH: Says the actor from Game Of Thrones… I’ve definitely heard worse than ‘shaven cave’ on your show.

JB: Yes but you expect it from Game of Thrones. That’s the good thing about Morrissey. This is representative of what he feels about life now. He’s having a kind of adolescence finally. He wants to talk about it. You’re used to young men talking about it, but not a man in his fifties. I love that he’s talking about it now. The sexual side is opening up and it’s nice to have a more mature person’s perspective on it.

JH: He has danced and hinted about frustration it for years, ‘I want the one I can’t have’, ‘Reel Around The Fountain’, ‘the More You Ignore Me’, ‘Dear God, Please Help Me…’

JB: Yes but those were about sexual failure, this new album is about sexual success. I wonder if people will take solace in that because they haven’t been sexually successful and now even he is, at last ‘in every shaven cave’, in every single one, there’s not one he hasn’t been in. It’s that progression. If AC/DC is about sex and Morrissey is about love, now he’s discovered sex and saying he has experienced it in ‘Home Is A Question Mark’ but it’s still not enough, he’s still looking for the one. It’s still about the yearning but the search continues. When you start to experience sex you realise it’s not what’s important. It shows a maturity in Morrissey. Maybe he’s not quite as Maladjusted. Maybe he wants a more conventional life now. Maybe it’s not enough to go through life on your own. He is properly realising the importance of it. Having a relationship with him is so twisted in a way. You want him to be happy because you love him so much but then if he’s happy he might not be my Moz anymore.

JH: Are you going to any of the shows next year?

JB: Yes! I got tickets to all the London ones. I have eight tickets!

JH: If Morrissey walked in to the Ibis right now, what would you say to him?

JB: I’d say, I hope you realise how much people love you. I think he does know. But I really hope that he knows the effect that he has, and how many people he has saved. I hope he knows how valued he is. Part of him does find solace in playing the underdog and the victim and part of him does luxuriate in that. Just once just sit back and reflect on how important you are. The people who don’t like you, will never like you. But the people who love you will love you more than they love anybody else. I was talking about Samwell in similar terms. Now that he has this child and Gilly and how that has affected his outlook. All his life he wanted to be accepted, he was despised at home. As soon as you fall in love and find people you care and love about, you realise it’s better to be loved by a few. A lot of people really hate him and everything he stands for. The people who love him, really love him. That’s more important than everyone liking you. It’s apathy and indifference. The opposite of love is indifference.

JH: If Morrissey was coming to your flat what snacks would you put out for him?

JB: Well first of all I’d take all the pictures down. I’ve got three pictures of Morrissey in my flat. One of him and Johnny, and they’re cuddling. I’ve got a really cool Morrissey picture, a white canvas with eyebrows and quiff in colour. Boiling the famous visage down. I bought last week the signed test pressing on the Sunday at the pop up shop. I’ve got that in my office. Morrissey and Johnny’s autographs! So anyway, snacks. He’s vegan. He doesn’t like vegetarian food, garlic and onion, things like that. I’d go for chip sandwiches, no butter. There was a story I heard about him and I hope it’s true. A record company took him out in Los Angeles and they took him to the best vegetarian restaurant full of artists and creatives and all that. He got up and they thought he had gone to the toilet. Half an hour passed and they were like, ‘Oh, he’s been gone a long time.’ So they went out looking for him and they found him on the street eating a big cake.

JH: Ha ha! I don’t believe that!

JB: A big old cake! But if he was coming over I’d do a bowl of chips and a loaf of white bread. He’d love that. Stay on safe ground. Recently I was in a hotel that only had cheese and onion crisps. I thought, you can’t pick a divisive flavour. If you’re going to have one flavour it surely has to be plain.

JH: I agree. What is your favourite crisp flavour?

JB: Good question. I quite like prawn cocktail. Crazy isn’t it? I used to have them for the novelty value then I found myself having that flavour all the time! The full pink Walkers. One Christmas I created a lovely little canapé for myself. I got a Ritz cracker and put chive Philadelphia on it and then put a disc of Matteson’s smoked sausage on it then put a little Skip on top of that. We got texture, we got flavours, bosh!

JH: Have you thought of going on Come Dine With Me?

JB: Yeah of course! I thought about adding more to that canapé, but it doesn’t really need anything. It has everything. It’s a real journey. I probably wouldn’t do reality programmes but I did Celebrity Mastermind recently… can’t tell you the outcome… you’ll have to watch it.

JH: Can you tell us your specialist subject?

JB: No. It’s on Christmas week. Cancel all plans.

JH: I’m going nowhere. Will tune in with chips and bread.

(John’s episode of Mastermind is episode 3, on air Friday 29 December, 2017)

JH: Do you play the drums?

JB: I do but I’ve hurt my wrist so I can’t play at the moment. I never wanted the drums to be widely known about. As soon as there’s a professional pressure to do something it stops being quite as much fun. I don’t want to be a drummer in a film or for the world to watch me play the drums. It’s really a physical therapy for me.

JH: I love the hi-hat on ‘I Wish You Lonely’.

JB: Yeah I’m a big fan of the hi-hat. I met Matt Walker at Maida Vale 6 music. That was a weird old day. There’s something really instinctive and beautiful about the physical flow from a professional drummer.

JH: Drummers like to tap on everything, don’t they?

JB: Absolutely. Even down to crunching crisps in time to music. Seriously! ‘Frankly Mr Shankly’ is a good song to crunch crisps to. I like cheap crisps. I like Discos. I like the uniform nature of Discos. The cheaper the crisp the more uniform the shape and the more expensive the crisp the wackier the shape.

JH: Expensive crisps are hard to eat, they can hurt your mouth.

JB: They are very hard to eat and a lot of them expensive crisps are folded with big bubbles on. I like a cheap crisp.

JH: Who is your favourite actor?

JB: Oh! I’ve never been asked that before. When I was a kid it was Leonard Rossiter. I loved his energy. I have a soft spot for Rik Mayall. That clowning and lack of self-consciousness. You don’t want to be thinking about how good you look. He was just so giving to an audience. He did everything in his arsenal to get a laugh. Too many actors strive to get something out of it from themselves, he was just in it to please the audience.

JH: What’s your favourite comedy show?

JB: It’s still probably Dad’s Army. It worked so much when it was on because it can never date as it was set in the past when it was on. It will never be Robin’s Nest on a seventies couch. It was always old and dated. From a writing point of view there’s seven characters and so distinct. They all clearly fulfill a purpose in that show.

JH: You have full sideburns. Have you ever tried that Windsor Davies style of moustache?

JB: I can’t do it! I don’t shave anything. It just grows like that . The tash is all right but the beard just grows down. It would be nice to have a proper beard as an option.

JH: I like it. Shows your cheeks. What’s your favourite book?

JB: I love 15 Minutes With You. I do! I didn’t read a book that wasn’t about football until I was sixteen. People assume I’m bookish. Let me have a think… I’ll go for Diary of a Nobody.

JH: Favourite film?

JB: I really like Raging Bull. I watched it again quite recently and it’s a hard grueling watch. DeNiro is always more than you expect from him. In that film he’s physical and macho, but then you realise how sad and vulnerable he is and how jealous and threatened he is, all the time. I’ve just been watching Mad Men and Don Draper is very similar to that. He’s so unhappy. He might be successful with work and women and seems to have it all. I like characters who are the last person you think would be vulnerable.

JH: Do you see any members of The Smiths around Manchester?

JB: I’ve seen three of the four, I’ve not seen Andy Rourke. I saw Morrissey in concert, I saw Johnny in concert, and then I saw Mike Joyce in Tesco in Altrincham. There was something about seeing him just doing his shopping. Those hands that did all that stuff. Wow. I just can’t believe that I would encounter someone who had such an influence on my life.

JH: What’s your favourite Smiths song?

JB: It changes all the time but currently… oh god… I’m reluctant… but I’m going for ‘Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me.’ Just because of the scope of it and the theatre of it. It’s really an epic that. One of the jewels in their crown.

JH: What’s your favourite Morrissey song?

JB: I love ‘Tomorrow’ but out of all of them I’d go for ‘Speedway’. When I’ve seen him and he closes a concert with it; it’s always a moment. Such a draining of the emotion of him. By the end of it I feel he’s losing control a bit. Gets really sad.

JH: What’s your favourite Smiths album?

JB: Strangeways, Here We Come.

JH: Favourite Morrissey album?

JB: Vauxhall and I.

JH: Favourite drink?

JB: Tea. Milk and one. You get laughed at in London for having sugar in your tea. I like it really strong and ideally from a pot and ideally sugar lumps. I like tea paraphernalia. A pot for one should have three teabags in it. I don’t enjoy tea I’ve made myself as much as tea that is made for me. I love room service tea. The teapot and all the bowls and all the spoons… there’s something really therapeutic about all those components. I love the process.

JH: Favourite pizza topping?

JB: I’m going to say pineapple. I love a Hawaiian pizza. Even saying the word ‘pineapple’ is making my mouth water. It’s one of those things that really shouldn’t work but it does. I like tinned pineapple rings. If you put a pineapple ring in the dead centre of the pizza then cut it across the middle, everybody gets a piece.

JH: What do you like to do on a Friday night?

JB: I like to stay in with my girlfriend and watch Bullseye or Stars In Their Eyes. You can accept these as game shows on one level but they can be hilarious. I don’t really go out anymore because I don’t drink.

JH: What’s your favourite thing your mum says?

JB: My mum has some sayings that I’ve literally not heard anywhere else. She says, ‘If he decides to go on holiday with her I’ll kill my pig.’ Kill my pig? It’s like, ‘I’ll be surprised but I’ll also furious about it!’

JH: Has your mum got a pig?

JB: No, she killed it… Sorry Moz! I’m just joking. She never had a pig.

JH: If your mum and dad were here now, what would they say about you?

JB: They’d tell YOU that they were very proud. Acting was a dynamic that existed before and if I was to talk about my development or success it would be a signifier that those days are over. We’re all much more comfortable with sustaining the illusion. Everything else is a construct. Failure is not something I’m mad on. You have to be reminded of what is really you.

JH: Please would you write a note to my mum?

JB: I’d love to.

JH: If you went on ‘Stars In Their Eyes’ who would you be?

JB: ‘Let It Be’ era Paul McCartney!

JH: Finally, for my sister, two questions: 1. How high is that wall?

JB: We filmed it in a quarry. The first hundred feet of it is real. The rest is built on CGI.

JH: And, 2 - If you had a pet dragon, what would you call it?

JB: Mozzer the dragon. Do you think he’d like that?

JH: Absolutely.

Follow John Bradley on Twitter @johnbradleywest or on Instagram @johnbradleywest

Contact @juliehamill

#Morrissey #mozarmy #gameofthrones #samtarly #samwelltarly #TheSmiths #15minuteswithyou

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