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sketchfanda · 5 months

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Kirishima’s Mystique:The Lioness sleeps tonight…NOT!!

To sleep, per a chance to dream? Aye there’s the run, for in that sleep what dreams may come? For our sturdy chivalrous hero of course as he slept in his bedroom at Heights Alliance dorm, it was a near sleepless night for him. One of those few nights he didn’t have the company of Mina or Maya to keep him cozy and comfy and of course it was one of those hot humid sort of nights. The kind where his sheets were in disarray and he was currently stripped down to his boxers, his sculpted form sweating like hell as he struggled to try and get some proper slumber. Oh how he'd tried just about most any and every trick possible from counting sheep to having some cold turkey and warm milk but still nothing!! The sturdy hero fidgeting and fussing as he tried to think of something, anything at all to sleep. If need be, he worried he'd have to take Mineta's crude advice about rubbing one out to tire himself down. But damnit this late night heatwave hardly seemed the time to jerk off, but knowing his bubble gum duet? They'd think it better he wear himself down with a couple of rounds of tapping and rutting their cotton candy pink and blue asses like he wanted to put his babies into them. Their sort of words not his, but damn if it wasn’t a turn on when they talked dirty like that. It just really set off Something primal and animalistic in his brain as he struggled to hold back the dirty thoughts daring to flow forth. It was the last thing he swore he needed, hell he felt like he must’ve started hallucinating as he seemed to imagine there was a woman in his room right now. A furry woman at that. Waaaaiit a second…

??:*the figure blurry in his hazy vision as it began to clear a bit. Didn’t help it was so damn dark and late at night. What a time for a wet dream as this mystery woman spoke.* “Mortal, do not be alarmed. I’m Guenn and you’ve been chosen to be blessed with my company. In recognition of your dedication To fitness and your physique’s gains, I seek to bed You and be bred with yiur child. So tell me Eijiro Kirishima, do You accept this offer?”

Kirishima:*thensturdy bero squinted snd blinked a bit as his vision cleared a little more. Adjusting the darkness as as he fidgeted around, finding and flicking his lamplight on. Seeing properly that this sudden intruder intruder in his dorm room was some sort of lioness woman. Who was SWOLE as all fuck!! She had to be somewhere around All Might’s height of 7 foot 3 if not taller!! Her elegant silky fur not his g but proudly displaying just how absolutely jacked and sculpted she was. Every inch of muscle connected in a way that declares her the pinnacle of physique. Her modesty preserved by the rather divine, elegant accessories and jewellery she wore with a swimsuit like ensemble. Thinking her over over for a few seconds, a coating of his libido and his sleep deprived, exhausted brain working in tandem.*”bring it on……”

The divine goddess of LIFT personified grinned catlike as she snapped her fingers. Her outfit and accessories disappearing in the blink of an eye as she stood before the shark teethed redhead in all her nude glory. Proceeding to entice and arouse him as a reward for his straight forward bluntness. Seeming to rather enjoy that he wasted no time in accepting her proposal as she began to court his attention in what had to be the most lucid dream he’d ever had. Striking poses like she was a contestant for one of those female bodybuilder shows. Showing off her naked amazonian furry form with pride and a sensual passion that Ms.Misnightnwould no doubt applauds and admire. Flexing her luscious, gorgeous muscles, her biceps and triceps swelling as they rippled with power and sex appeal. Truly she was the sort of babe that would make a man want to sculpt a statue in her honour, as she clapped and clench her bubbly booty cheeks before making her pecs bounce her titties. All,the while Kirishima looked on in awe as if this naked lioness’ muscles were a siren song. Enticing him, arousing him to pay attention as he got up from bed. Standing up as he pulled down his boxers, as Guenn grinned and licked her lips at the sight of his now exposed, rigid cock. His length and girth stiff as a flagpole as she stood ready for him. Purring as he came forth and hugged around her waist, nuzzling those furry washboard abs and motorboated those mighty tits of hers. Feeling her silky tail wrap around his waist as she sandwiched her thighs between his shaft. Pumping it as she found him give off a satisfied groan. Seems his pleasure was overriding the humidity in his room and with good reason.

Guenn:”Yes very good Kirishima, don’t hold yourself back when it comes to your desires. As the man who will provide me with his child, it’s only right this experience be enjoyed by both of us. Show me you’re a man of resolve. After all,doesn’t a real man do best when in the presence of a woman?”*The mysterious Lioness playfully praised and coaxed, cupping Kirishima’s face to make heir look at her. Crimson eyes looked on golden feline ones as she pumped hismcock with her thighs. Her arousal flowing down her thighs to soak and lube his manhood,feeling it twitch and pulse.*

Kirishima:*his brain clicking as her words rang through, fo whatever the hell kind of dream this was,he had this walking woman maintain of fur and muscle wanting his A game and by fox, A Real Man never left a woman waiting and wanting!!*”Ms.Guenn, ma’am? Yiu want my best You’re gonna get it!!” *the delinquent looking himbo proudly declared,much to the lioness’ delight as he pressed his lips to hers. The pair letting their passion guide and drive them as he grasped and squeezed her bubbly buns of steel. Tongues dancing together as they shard air and spit. Guenn purring as she felt the curious, eager and skilled hands of the red riot explore her body. Caressing silky fur and mighty muscles with absolute desire.*

it wasn’t long before the lioness and the young studly hero in training were soon riling around on his bed, making out with a growing passion that’s out pornstars to shame. The Lioness moaning and o purring as Kirishima kissed and suckled on her tits. One hand caressing a bicep s the other did the same to her abs before it soon went to teasing and prodding her slit. Fingers probing away as the muscular fleshy inner walls took him 3 fingers knuckle deep, a tingle running along her spine as his thumb rubbed her clit for good measure. All the while she grasped and stroked his cock, his length and girth twitching as pre flowed forth from the tip. Staining her finger and palm as her other hand gave admiring caresses and massages to Kirishima’s own sculpted form. Truly a masculine work of art brought about by a drive for only the sickest of gains. He didn’t simply LIFT, he worked!! To say nothing of how well he knew his way around a woman’s body,as her womb pulsed with a hidden glow. Burning with the heat that yearned to have buns in the oven.

Guenn:”Yes Yes yes! Jsut like that!! Don’t let up! Rut me with all the drive and passion of wanting to out your babies in me!! Think of this belly of mine, swelling and filled with your young!!” *The lioness yowled and moaned as she was in all fours on the bed. Knees firm and hands clutching the sweat soaked sheets as Kirishima fucked her doggy or rather cat style. The young Adonis redhead grunted and growled as he jackhammered away, hips nearly blurring as he obliged the Lioness’ desires. Pelvis smacking that sloppy, soaking wet pussy as he ass jiggled, tits swaying as he pumped and worked his own muscles to give this feline bombshell all he got and she wanted.*

Kirishima:”If this is a dream don’t wake me up…”*the sturdy hero in training quipped as he held and massaged Guenn’s hips. The powerful lioness riding him cowgirl style as she purred, flexing and showing off her muscles. Crunching her abs as she displayed how deep his length and girth reached inside of her while her tits bounced as she gave him tickets to the gun show. Front row and centre with an exotic,erotic VIP treatment. The punk looking hero and this Amazon feline switching between top and bottom any and every time he’s cum, with the lioness naturally ensuring he’d do it inside of her as much as possible. There was no doubt she was serious and intent on ending this dream pregnant with his child.*

On and on it went, the night seeming to never end as Kirishima and Guennn continued to make sweet, hot and heavy FUCK!! Missionary, spread eagle, to say nothing offheir playful competition battling between the Amazon and mating press. But ooh did she get freaky and wild when h gave her anal, to say nothing of how amazing her mouth and tongue felt as she deepthroated his cock. Her powerful sensual physique capable of handling his most intense facefucking. He blowjob skills were as divine as her muscles as the lair finished off their mating marathon with a prone bone position. The lioness biting the bedsheets as her booty jiggled with every impact of that t powerful cock of his. His balls slapping her slit as he kissed along her neck and nibbled her ear. Before they moaned and foamed together as thy simultaneously climaxed, Kirishima feeling vibrations of Guenn’s purring as they held one another in embrace, basking in the afterglow a sleep finally took the redhead……

Kirishima:*groaned as he twitched, blooming snd rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he felt the morning sunlight pouring in. Finding himself all soaked with seat and looking to see he wasn’t alone. But instead of some seven foot plus Amazon lioness, it was the familiar cotton candy bubblegum pink and blue forms of his bombshell girlfriends giving him a tandem blowjob. Lips and tongues working their erotic magic on his morning wood as he mumbled.*”Uugh hey girls…..”

Mina:*giggles as she idly caressed his abs,stroking him as Maya sucked and blew on his rod.*”Morning Eiji. Poor thing all alone, hot and sweaty. Not to mention horny. You have a good dream last night?”

Maya:*popped her mouth off as she added her own hand,the lair stroking his shaft as they crawled up along his bed to snuggle him and take turns kissing him.*”Cut our man some slack Pinky. Whatever or whoever he dreamt about must’ve been good to get his junk all sticky like that…but hey, we’re here now babe…”

Kirishima welcomed the affectionate make out and threesome that followed this early morning. Now that they mentioned it last night with Guenn must’ve been a wet dream his heatwave hazed mind cooked up. Looking back he’d had recently been looking up a lot of magazines and videos about muscle women. Even before last night he’d been checking out some fanarts on the topic and with how pent uo and lonely he’d been, the math made itself plenty clear hiw last night played out. Guess he did rub one out last night, did he? All the same Guenn had seemed and felt so real, far too real to be a foment of his imagination that had a name. Meanwhile in a museum around the world elsewhere, many were curious as to why the sculpture of the Guennol Lioness was suddenly joined by what seemed like twin daughters, who seemed to have wild spikey manes….

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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years

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Four Little Sips

Day 28, Post #2

Title: Four Little Sips

Author: JohnMcHacker

Pairings: Harry/Bill/Charlie (platonic), Harry/Ginny (romantic), Gryffindor Quidditch Team (platonic), Fred/George/Ron (platonic), Ron/Hermione (romantic)

Prompt: In Vino Veritas

Rating: PG

Trigger Warnings: Alcoholism, Referenced death, Language

Note to admin: Thanks for organising, this is my first time submitting, sorry if I'm late or if it doesn't meet requirements. I have also posted to the AO3 collection.

* * *

You see, Harry had never really had anyone just a few years older to look up to. Alright, there was Hermione, but they were classmates and best friends and at roughly the same place in life, it wasn’t the same.

That summer of 1998, in the wake of all that pain and death and sorrow, the Weasleys pulled together and pulled him in with them. On a few occasions, this meant having a few drinks with Bill and Charlie, in various nondescript Muggle pubs in the vicinity of Ottery St Catchpole.

“Just because Kingsley cut you some slack doesn’t mean you have to take the offer,” said Charlie. “You’ve spent your whole life fighting Voldemort, one way or anoher. You deserve to take a break. Live a little. Or else, what have you been fighting for?”

Harry thought of several memorable sunlit days, and found he couldn’t really disagree.

“Or at the very least, know why you’re putting your life on the line, once again,” said Bill. “Well, alright, you were the Chosen One, you had your job to do then. But now that that’s over, you ought to think twice why you’re risking your neck on your own account.”

“Well, I think I’d be good at it,” said Harry. “And someone has to do it. The Aurors are short-handed and too many of Voldemort’s thugs are still out there.”

Bill shook his head, munching a handful of chips. “That’s not good enough. Merlin knows I’d love a crack at the bastards myself. But your neck’s not just your own now, Harry. Ginny has a say too. That’s part of what being together means.”

“Muggle birds ain’t bad,” said Charlie, nodding at a trio of pretty college-age girls gathered round a table across the pub. They caught him watching, giggled, and winked in reply. “Don’t limit yourself to witches. But if you do, don’t mess ‘em around, play fair, and come clean as soon as you can.”

“The most important part of my relationship with Fleur is trust,” said Bill. “We don’t have secrets, and she trusts that I won’t suddenly run off hunting Death Eaters or dragons or Hor... whatever. And I trust her not to do the same.”

“Family’s what it comes down to,” said Charlie, draining his glass.

“Family,” nodded Bill. “Your first responsibility.”

“My shout,” said Harry, because that was something else they had taught him was right, to stand his round, and he went to the bar to get the drinks. When he returned, they had moved on to other important matters.

“Free advice, Potter, take it or leave it,” said Charlie, tapping the side of his nose, “women; you’ll never go wrong if you please ‘em first, know what I mean?”

“Oi! That’s our sister you’re talking about!” snapped Bill, trying not to laugh.

“So what? She’s got fi... four of you looking out for her. Maybe I just want to see fair play.” Charlie winked at Harry. “Let me tell you about what I call ‘wandless magic’, and trust me, it is magic.”

“That’s it, you’re done, Perce is my new number two, it’s you that Mum and Dad should disown...”

“There’s more where that came from, Harry. You want to know how to beat Ron at chess? He can’t play gambits worth a damn. Stick with me, I’ll show you something called a Smith-Morra, aye?”

Advice, experience, honour, laughter. Maybe this was what it was like to have older brothers, thought Harry. It filled a hole in him he never even knew he had.

* * *

Oliver would never have allowed it, but Angelina Johnson was a more fun-loving kind of Quidditch Captain. She passed the word around quietly, and so the five Gryffindor players above the age of sixteen met in the changing rooms fifteen minutes before Potter and the younger Weasley were due to arrive. Of course it was the Twins who’d acquired the goods, however they managed it. Fred produced the bottle of Ogden’s from somewhere under his robes with a flourish, and George grinned toothily as he conjured shot glasses from thin air.

“Alright, I know it was my idea, but just the one, got it?” warned Angelina, pouring the drinks herself.

“Aye aye, Captain,” said Fred. George sketched a sloppy salute her way.

Katie Bell was practically trembling with excitement and nerves. “Oooh, this’ll be my first drink ever,” she said, holding up the glass of amber liquid to catch the light. “Are you sure we won’t get caught?” she asked, looking around as if expecting McGonagall to burst out of a locker at any time.

“Course we can’t be sure,” said Alicia Spinnet. “That’s part of the fun!”

Angelina looked round at each of them, and shouted “For the Cup!”

“FOR THE CUP!” they chorused, and knocked back the Firewhiskey.

Two years later, the three Chasers were standing at the bar of the Hog’s Head, but they had Oliver back now, and Angelina knew somehow that that was important, they were going to go to Hogwarts and find Fred and George and Harry and reunite the whole Team, and it meant she had to do this. She leaned over the counter, rummaged through the grimy bottles and found what she was looking for.

“You’re mad!” said Oliver incredulously.

“Probably,” said Alicia cheerfully, “but we did this every match and still won the Cup, didn’t we? Sixth-years and above only, of course, we had standards,” she said, catching Oliver’s outraged look.

“Don’t tell me you’re going into a real battle and don’t want a drink, Oliver,” said Angelina calmly as she poured, and that was that.

Alicia and Katie and Oliver looked at her expectantly. Angelina searched for the words, and found there was really only one thing suited to the occasion. “Fuck Voldemort.”

“FUCK VOLDEMORT!”

And they did.

But oh God, the price they paid.

* * *

The Leaky was too well-known so they usually frequented a tiny hole-in-the-wall further down the street. The clientele was younger and the enchanted jukebox played muggle hits as well as the Weird Sisters, Mega Maggots, and the Bent Banshees, and that was perfect for the Twins. Perhaps half the entire current range of Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes had first been dreamed up in this pub.

“Alright, alright, what about this, George? Prank greeting cards.”

“You’re crazy, Fred.”

“Cards that won’t stop singing. Howler cards. Exploding confetti cards. Exploding firework cards!”

George finished his beer and signalled to the barman for another. The barman hesitated, then poured as George slapped a handful of Sickles on the counter. “Confetti yes, fireworks, I dunno,” said George. “Cheers, Fred.”

“It’s brilliant I tell you. Mud in your eye,” said his twin brother, and they drank. Then, quietly, Fred asked: “How’s the family?”

“Same old. They’re doing well. You should see the sprogs, it’s a hoot,” snickered George. “Ron and Gin and Harry and good ol’ Hermione, sneaking around trying not to get caught shagging like rabbits. God, the sights I’ve walked in on...”

Fred chortled along with George, and he finished the pint. The bell over the door jingled and new customers came in, but the twins barely glanced that way.

“Speaking of which. About her... you should do something about it, George,” said Fred kindly. “I see all the signs and I know you do too. She’s waiting on you. Go be a gentleman, Georgey-boy, go on.”

George sighed. “Not you too. Look, I get enough of this crap from Bill and Charlie, alright?”

“You two need each other. Besides, it’s too quiet around the flat.”

All at once, George’s face crumpled. “You don’t get to say that. Not you. Not you! YOU don’t say that!”

Fred said nothing, he only smiled, and walked away. George turned his head quickly to follow him, but as always, Fred slid out the corner of his eye and was g...

And then it was another Weasley brother standing in front of him.

This time, it was Ron they’d sent. Good old Ron, lanky and solid and biting his lip in sympathy as he came to find his older brother sitting alone at the bar hunched over a half-empty glass. On the counter beside him was one untouched full pint, the frothy head long since evaporated.

“Come on, George,” said Ron gently. “There, I’ve got you. Let’s get you home.”

* * *

She was a girl made of facts and reason.

That was just the way she was wired.

“Dutch courage,” she said to herself, eyeing the glass of probably cheap plonk as if it was poison. Which technically it was.

“What’s that?” asked Ginny.

“Dutch courage,” she repeated. “It’s a muggle term, meaning the confidence gained from drinking alcohol, according to the Cambridge English Dictionary. Although,” she amended, “it’s derogatory to Dutch people and we probably shouldn’t say things like that.”

“I’ll keep that in mind in case I meet anyone from Orange Tulip Land,” said Ginny, rolling her eyes. “You certainly don’t need that sort of thing, Hermione, you’re one of the bravest people I know!”

Probably just hyperbole, thought Hermione, as that would be quite something, given that Ginny hung around with Aurors and Quidditch players and her boyfriend Harry Potter, or ‘His Excellency Most Spiffing Chosen Boy Who Lived To Kick Voldemort’s Arse’ as George called him. She picked up the glass, sipped it carefully, decided she quite liked the taste of Chateau Diagon Alley or whatever this was, and had a bigger swig.

Here’s a fun fact: it takes 6 minutes for the brain to react to alcohol.

Six minutes later, she didn’t think she felt any different. Warmer perhaps, but the New Year party was in full swing and Hermione thought maybe it was just the ambient temperature rising from all the people circulating, moving, dancing, talking, laughing.

Fun fact: drinking is ‘fun’ because alcohol lessens tension, eases social interaction, and reduces inhibitions.

Hermione sat in her corner and nursed her glass and knew she wasn’t really a social drinker, or any kind of drinker, or even at all ‘sociable’ to begin with. She envied how effortlessly Ginny and Bill and Parvati and everyone else were visibly enjoying themselves; Hermione would honestly prefer a nice book, a pot of peppermint tea, and perhaps with the company of...

Breathless from joking with Aurors and Obliviators and Patrolwizards and friends, Ron flung himself down beside her and threw an arm around her, and Hermione’s stomach fluttered pleasantly. “Alright there, Hermione?” He followed her gaze towards the wineglass. “Not poisoned, is it? Cause that’s no fun, believe me.”

Fact: I want to say I...

“That’s not funny, Ron, you could’ve died,” chided Hermione, although she couldn’t help giggling. “No, I just... it’s Dutch courage.”

“What’s that?” Hermione told him about English soldiers and gin and bravery, and the way he looked at her as he listened made her feel warm all over. “Nice. You know everything, Hermione,” Ron said admiringly.

“Not everything,” said Hermione wistfully. “I don’t know how to have fun at parties. Well, maybe that’s one more thing I do know now,” she joked lamely.

Fact: I...

Ron laughed at her probably atrocious attempt at humour, and said “Rubbish party anyway. Too many plonkers just wanting to be seen with heroes like Harry and Neville” (characteristically, Ron excluded himself from that category, Hermione observed) “and they’re only here because Kingsley said they absolutely had to be. I’d much rather have a quiet night in at home with you, Crookshanks, a nice fire, maybe a...”

No, I don’t know everything, thought Hermione. But I know this fact. “I love you, Ron Weasley.” And she grabbed him and snogged the hell out of him, ignoring the catcalls and cheers that rose all around.

Was it really the Dutch stuff, or was it all her own self, after all?

To be continued...

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #hp canon pairings #canon fest platonic #canon fest romantic #submission #tw: alcoholism #tw: referenced death #tw: language

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isitgintimeyet · 4 years

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Road To The Aisles

AO3

Happy Sunday. Hope it’s a good one for you.

So, potential crisis averted, time for some more wedding planning type stuff.

Thanks to @mo-nighean-rouge, @wickedgoodbooks, @happytoobserve and to you all for reading, liking, reblogging and commenting.

Chapter 18: An Exquisite Ensemble

Anthony Marantino: "You want pasta, you go to Little ltaly. You want wedding, you go Wang."

Sex and the City

Claire staggered into the living room, her arms full of magazines which she unceremoniously dumped onto the coffee table.

Jamie raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Little light reading there, Sassenach? Bit different from the usual blood and gore.”

He picked up an issue of You and Your Wedding and flicked through the glossy pages, pausing on a page entitled ‘The Ultimate Guide to Bridal Lingerie’.

“Mebbe I’ll jes’ be having a look through these meself. Some interesting articles here,” he said as his eyes focused on an Agent Provocateur demi cup plunge bra with matching thong.

Claire sighed. “Geillis got them for me. She can’t believe that I haven’t bought my dress yet. She reckons it’s the single most important choice I make.”

Jamie tore his attention away from the magazine. “I canna believe it either. I thought ye’d be sorted by now.”

“But it’s because everyone tells me how important the dress is. What style do I go for? How am I expected to know? And when we look back in thirty years’ time, I don’t want us to laugh at my choice. So, Geillis is taking me shopping. And apparently, we’re not coming home until the dress is chosen.”

“Weel, I know ye’ll be stunning whatever ye wear.”

He stood up and stretched. “I’m off fer a quick shower before Geneva drops William here. I’m that sweaty from the gym. And Geneva wants tae talk about the bairn’s first day at nursery tomorrow.”

“And,” Jamie paused and turned dramatically in the doorframe. “Fer yer information, the dress isna the most important choice, Sassenach. Ye already made it when ye said yes in Ned’s office.”

Claire settled herself on the sofa and picked one of the magazines at random. Opening Brides magazine, she studied the images, hoping for sudden inspiration. So many decisions… long, short, slinky, strapless, ivory, blush, white. And how would she manage in one of these frocks all day, she asked herself. How would she even go to the loo?

She was normally so sure of her decisions, but this was totally outside of her comfort zone. Claire sighed again. Thank goodness for Geillis. Without her, Claire had a feeling that she would be totally lost in this minefield of satin and lace.

The sound of the doorbell pulled Claire from her musings. Abandoning her magazines, she made for the front door, only pausing at the bottom of the stairs to call for Jamie, with no response -- the sound of the shower drowning out her summons.

She pasted a cool, polite smile on her face as she opened the door to Geneva. The smile as she bent to greet William, squirming in his car seat, was, however, full of genuine warmth.

Claire straightened up. “Hello, Geneva. Please come in.”

Geneva led the way into the living room.

“Jamie’s just having a shower,” Claire explained as Geneva placed the car seat on the floor and began to unstrap the baby.

Geneva turned to respond and noticed the selection of bridal magazines strewn across the coffee table.

“Little late in the day to be having second thoughts about the dress,” she commented, idly picking up one of the magazines.

“No,” Claire quickly clarified. “I’ve not bought the dress yet. I’m going this week with my best friend.”

Geneva appeared stunned. “But… surely not. You need at least four months for a bespoke gown. I suppose one could get away with three months… if one was a standard sample size, for example.”

She eyed Claire’s hips disparagingly.

Claire smiled politely and tried to remain calm. “Oh, I don’t want a bespoke or designer dress. I think Debenhams has a good selection.”

Geneva barely suppressed a shudder.

“Oh, off the peg.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head dramatically as if trying to remove this incredibly distasteful image from her brain.

Claire said nothing in response. There was nothing to say. This was her wedding, planned exactly how she and Jamie wanted and no snide little digs from Geneva would make her change a single thing about the day. Yes, it would be totally different from any wedding Geneva may plan… a different groom for example…

Geneva finally managed to overcome her abhorrence and opened her eyes. She glanced at the magazines once more before lifting the edge of one to reveal a set of photos underneath. Deliberately she picked them up, slowly studying each glossy image, the photographer capturing different aspects of the subject’s character reflected in those amber eyes -- the laughter, the dreams, the warmth, the knowing glint.

“You've been photographed by Simon Winchester?” Geneva asked, somewhat incredulously. She touched the photograph’s watermark as if to check it’s authenticity. “But he rarely does private commissions.”

“Aye, weel…” Jamie entered and immediately picked a slightly disgruntled William up, lifting him high in the air and blowing raspberries against the baby’s tummy.

William, content to be the centre of attention once more, chuckled happily and pawed at his father’s face.

Jamie continued as he snuggled the baby close to his chest. “Weel, it was fer our latest advertising campaign… in Japan. We decided tae use Claire as our model. Her eyes match the whisky. And I canna think of a better combination… the wildness of the heather clad hills, the powerful complex flavours of the dram and the beauty and honesty of those eyes. The windows to the soul, are they no’?”

Geneva bit her lip as she carefully placed the photos back on the table.

“What a wonderful idea,” she exclaimed, her tone giving an indication of her true sentiments. “Congratulations, Claire, what an exceptional opportunity for you to work with such a talented photographer. And, I must say…”

She glanced down at the photos again.

“... he really is a master of photoshopping techniques.”

Jamie made no response, trying to ignore that comment, born out of simple jealousy, and considered moving the subject on to William’s first full day at nursery. He looked across at Claire, a small amused smile playing across her lips as she watched Geneva studying the photos. She was obviously willing to rise above Geneva’s petty spite… Jamie decided he wasn’t. He wanted Geneva to know what he thought.

“No photoshop needed at all, Geneva. ‘Tis all natural. And I ken they’ll be a big hit in all the Japanese advertising… those eyes… seen and admired by millions.”

He paused for a moment to let his comments register with Geneva.

“Right, so, William’s first full day at nursery. What do I need tae know?”

**********

“She said what?” Geillis spluttered as she quickly put her coffee cup back on the table. “Photoshop, how dare she? That’s pure spite, that is. She’s only jealous because Jamie wouldna have ever wanted her tae do that. Sae, what happened then?”

“Well, that was pretty much it. Jamie put her right on the whole photoshopping thing and then they started talking about William.”

“But, come on, Claire,” Geillis persisted. “Admit it. Ye must have had a wee bit of satisfaction from it. Rubbing her nose in it, like?”

“Well, I didn’t rub her nose in it. I played it low key. But,” Claire smiled at the memory. “Yes, it was really damn satisfying. Especially when she’d already made snide comments about me not going for a designer wedding dress, but an ‘off the peg’... and cast dubious glances at the size of my hips.”

“But G,” she continued. “Does it bother you, as my maid of honour, not having an expensive designer dress?”

Geillis patted Claire’s hand comfortingly. “Dinna fash. This is yer day and ye’re going tae wear whatever ye want. It doesna bother me at all. All I want is tae see ma best friend wed the man that she loves. And I will wear whatever ye want me tae wear.”

“Mind ye,” Geillis added with a wink. “With ma natural style and grace, I could make a bin bag look haute couture. Now, come on, drink up. We are no’ going home until we’ve found the dress fer ye.”

**********

Claire perched awkwardly on the upholstered chair in the changing room, trying hard not to look in any of the many mirrors, currently reflecting her underwear-clad image from every angle. Although -- she sneaked a peek -- at least she had remembered to wear one of her better (and matching) sets of underwear for this occasion.

It had been an inspired decision of Geillis’s to book an appointment with the store’s personal shopper, resulting, clearly, in a better class of changing room, complete with plush upholstery, gilt edged mirrors and a proper wooden door, rather than a curtain not quite wide enough for the frame.

The personal shopper (“Och, call me Diane, I’ve a feeling we’ll be here fer hours!l) had gone on a quest for an assortment of gowns, with Geillis in tow, unwilling to trust Diane’s professional instincts.

A tap at the door heralded the arrival of the frocks. Geillis led the way, followed by a long rack pushed by Diane, a plethora of sequins, satin and lace cascading from the hangers. Claire’s heart sank at the abundance of frills.

Geillis gave a shrug. “They werena all ma choice, ye ken.”

Diane gave a bright smile. “Och, I ken ye said simple but there’s nae harm in looking, is there? And ye canna always tell until ye’ve the dress on.”

Claire began rifling through the dresses, muttering to herself as she passed each one by. Suddenly her hands stilled, and she took a step back, casting her eyes up and down the dress now on display.

“This is it.” Claire stated simply.

“Ok,” Diane began to remove the dress from its protective plastic. “Ye canna say this is the one, but it’s a start. Ye pop yerself behind that screen and we’ll try it on ye.”

Claire felt a thrill of excitement as she watched Diane unzip the dress and then slowly lower it for her to step into. The ivory fabric slid easily over her curves as the zip was fastened once more.

“Like a glove,” Diane breathed as she beckoned Claire from behind the screen towards the full length mirrors.

Claire gazed at her reflection. The ivory satin overlaid with a delicate lace skimmed the contours of her body. The Bardot neckline enhanced the smooth, creamy skin of her shoulders. A trail of tiny buttons led down her back towards the swell of her bottom. Gently fitted to her curves, it fell to the ground before flaring out slightly into a small train.

She tentatively took a couple more steps in the dress, testing the freedom of movement. Geillis watched, her eyes glistening with moisture.

“Christ, Claire,” Geillis exclaimed. “It’s breathtaking.”

Claire turned to her. “This is it,” she repeated.

“I’ll admit, ye look awfa bonnie in that dress, but ye canna be trying on jes’ one dress.” Diane gestured to the large rack.

Claire sighed, unwilling to take the dress off. Finally, she agreed, allowing Diane to put it back in it’s plastic covering and continued to rifle through the rack. Towards the back, she pulled out another hanger and passed it to Diane.

“I’ll try this one on then.”

Claire twirled in front of the mirror, watching the full skirt float around her before coming to a halt to critically study the dress.

It was, in Claire’s mind, undoubtedly a very nice dress. She had always been very fond of the Grecian style and in many ways it would be a more practical dress -- definitely easier to go to the loo and she wouldn’t have to wear a strapless bra with it. And yet…

She looked across at Geillis, who smiled politely. “Aw, it’s a nice dress, but…”

Claire smiled. “I know. That’s how I feel.”

She turned to Diane. “I know you think I should try on loads more dresses and really look around, but I love that first dress so much. I feel wonderful in it. Nothing’s going to be better than that.”

“And ye look so beautiful in it, Claire. I ken ye’re making the right choice.” Geillis agreed.

*********

Claire sipped her coffee happily. “I can't believe how easy that was. That dress is everything I wanted. And I can pick it up next week.”

“Aye, no’ much more tae do today.”

“What do you mean? Oh, of course your dress, Geillis. I was thinking bronze, satin… you can choose the style.”

Geillis licked the smears of chocolate brownie from her fingers. “Och, I ken exactly which dress I want. I’ve done ma research, ye ken. No, I mean ye, we still have the get yer underwear. A little gift for yer husband tae unwrap on yer wedding night. Start yer married life with a bang.”

Claire laughed. “And I suppose you have just the items in mind.”

“As a matter of fact I do… demure yet sexy, innocent yet hot, virginal yet wanton. Yer man will thank me right enough.”

“Well, lead me to this magical lingerie.” Claire began to gather her bags up, preparing to leave the café.

She paused. “And G, thank you for this, for all this. You’re my best friend and I can’t think of anyone better to share this with.”

Instinctively, Geillis gave Claire a warm hug. “Ye’re more than a friend, Claire. Like it or no’, ye’re family.”

#outlander fanfiction #outlander fanfic #Road To The Aisles #Chapter 18 #Jamie Fraser #Claire Beauchamp #it's all about the dress

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mymelodyheart · 3 years

Text

Forget Me Not Chapter 28 ~Stags and Hens~

Claire looked in the mirror. No freaking way!

Geillis had lent her a dress that emphasised her burgeoning curves when she would have preferred something loose. Turning sideways, she glanced once more at her reflection. Although she had gained weight and had a slight tummy, she didn't look pregnant at all. Curvy, yes. She turned around to check out her behind and admired the snug fit over the swell of her arse. Even her breasts had filled out, and the dress fitted her front in all the right places.

Before her pregnancy, she had always been thin and lanky, and her height had only accentuated her leanness. And now, much to her pleasant surprise, her curves filled the dress quite nicely.

Her hands absentmindedly smoothed the dress down and bit her lip. What will Jamie think? Is the dress too daring?

She let out a big sigh and thought about changing, but she realised Geillis wouldn't allow it. She would probably march her right back into her bedroom and wait until she chose another outfit. Might as well embrace the look, she thought. After all, this was her hen night.

The printed black minidress barely skimmed the top of her knees, and the black suede knee-high boots boasted chunky heels making her even taller. The scooped neckline exposed an ample amount of cleavage, revealing plenty of creamy white skin. Completing the look, she donned on a leather jacket to give the whole outfit a less formal appearance.

She squinted at her face. Mascara darkened her lashes, the blush highlighted her cheekbones and the red lipstick brought out the paleness of her skin and the honey gold of her eyes. Usually tied up in a bun, she left her curls loose. Not bad, Beauchamp!

Claire was determined to enjoy her bachelorette night and put the incident with Geneva behind her. The episode of that fateful night had definitely scarred her for life. But not quite as much as what Isobel had to endure. Earlier, she had paid her a visit at the hospital. Horrified at the damage that was inflicted on her skin, Claire had almost cancelled her wedding to Jamie. However, she made a promise to Isobel.

"Don't let my sister win, Claire. If you cancel your wedding because of what happened to me, then you're helping Geneva achieve her goal by disrupting your life. She may be locked up in jail, but she can still hold power over you if you allow it. Go ahead with the wedding and don't allow what I tried to stop from happening to be in vain. Promise me, Claire."

And so Claire promised. If Isobel was brave enough to face what was coming ahead of her, then she too will dig deep and find that courage.

Loud voices caught her attention and brought her back to the present. Taking a deep breath, Claire grabbed her clutch and came out of her bedroom. Three pair of eyes settled on her as soon as she walked into the living space.

Geillis let out a high-pitched squeal and clapped. "Oh, Claire, that dress is perfect! Ye have some killer curves on ye. I knew it would suit ye. What do ye think, lads?"

Feeling conscious, Claire tugged the edge of her jacket. "Thank you. The material feels lovely, and I wasn't so sure if I could pull it off."

"Ach, ye dinna ken how to buy a dress in yer size. Ye always buy a size too big. It's yers now. That dress is more for a leggy person like ye."

Willie smiled and kissed her on the forehead. "Ye look fabulous, Claire. I hope ye girls have fun tonight."

"Thanks, Willie. And you too."

She waited for Jamie's response, but his face remained inscrutable. Holding her breath, she watched him approach and slid his hands underneath her jacket to pull her against him. Careful not to ruin her makeup, he gave a feather-light kiss on her cheek. "Ye look stunning, Sassenach," he whispered, for her ears only. "I feel like saying, zip up this jacket because yer tits are quite an eyeful. Instead, I'm going to be an understanding fiance, suck it up like a good man and wish ye a fun-filled hen party." And then he turned his head towards Geillis. "...and hopefully, not too rowdy. She's pregnant, mind?" he said in a louder voice.

She tried her best to suppress her amusement. Cupping Jamie's face with both hands, he turned his face towards her. "Well, Mr Fraser, I wish you a lovely evening too. I heard the lads in the kitchen arranged ...uhm, let say an interesting stag-do for you. Something that involves ... a dancer?"

Jamie groaned as he ran a hand through his hair. "I have no idea about a dancer, I swear. To be honest, I'd rather skip this part and have a quiet evening with ye ..."

"Oh no, ye don't," Geillis disagreed, seizing Claire's hand before Jamie could give her any ideas. "Ye have a lifetime ahead of ye to spend time together. I'm not lettin' ye take this away from me."

Willie laughed out loud. "Come on, Jamie. We best get going. The cab is waiting for us outside."

A loud beeping echoed down the street.

"That's our ride, princess," Geillis announced, tugging Claire's hand once more.

"Oh by the way, where are ye going?" Jamie called out to their retreating backs.

"None of yer business! This is Claire's evening and nae lads allowed. Ye have yer own evening to worry about. See ye later and don't wait up for us!"

As the girls stepped outside, a white stretched limousine was already in the driveway with a bunch of giggly, happy women waving through the tinted windows. On the other side of the street were two cabs waiting for Jamie and Willie.

A tingle of exhilaration shimmered down Claire's spine. Ignoring the howls and whistles from Jamie's friends in the other vehicles, they climbed into their limo. Scents of mingled perfume, alcohol and feminine excitement floated in the air. Jenny, Louise and three other friends from her college were dressed to impress, and they each had a plastic flute of champagne. Claire wished she could have a drink. Instead, she grabbed a bottle of water Geillis offered to her.

Drinks flowed, and gossips were exchanged as they were driven to their destination. After eating and partying at a Cabaret show, they piled back in the limo and hit a gay strip bar where they danced and partied some more. Although Claire couldn't join in the girls' drinking fest, she had a great time.

Their last stop was their village pub which was walking distance from their house. As they went in, they were quickly ushered to the backroom. The place was bursting to the seams, and the music blared loudly from the speakers. Claire's friends were already half-way drunk, and they were soon joined by more females from the hotel who just got off work to celebrate with them.

Geillis bumped into her, spilling some of her drink. "Are ye ready for the main event? Louise arranged it."

"I know it's a male stripper. I overheard the plan," Claire cringed. "I don't want a naked man pawing me. As my best friend and maid of honour, you need to step up and be my wingman."

"Wing woman ye mean," Geillis hiccuped, as she took a sip of her cocktail. "Mmmm, this is so good and extra fruity. So ye overheard the plan, aye?"

Claire motioned to the chair in the middle of the room. "Well, a pretend cop is supposed to come in and tell us off for being boisterous, and then drags me to that chair so he can writhe all over me. Not my idea of fun!"

"Sounds like a solid plan to me."

Claire glared, but the effect was lost when Geillis slurped her drink. "I need you to take the hit for me. When the stripper comes in, you take my place. Please!"

Another hiccup. "I don't look like ye though," Geillis pointed out.

"It doesn't matter. Everyone's drunk. No one will notice. The girls just want to see a naked body."

"Aye, about that. Ye invited all the female staff from the hotel. Of course, they'll want to see a naked body."

Claire grinned. "Well, they missed out on the fun because they had to work. So I guess the stripper is the next best thing. So, are you going to do it? Take my place?"

"Hell no! In as much as I would love to have a hot body gyrating in front of me, Louise will kill me if I took yer place. This is her gift for ye. I'm not going to be the one to spoil her pressie."

"Damn it! I wish I could drink to numb my brain. Fine! I'll do it, but it doesn't mean I have to enjoy it."

Geillis pressed a noisy kiss on her cheek. "Dinna fash, lass. It will be a bloody laugh. Oh, here, ye'll need a lot of these." Her friend stuffed a handful of pound notes into her fist.

"Yay, me. I finally get to stick money in a bloke's G-string. I can tick off an item from my bucket list," she muttered sarcastically.

Geillis gave her a sympathetic look. "This one is for ye. Have a drink," she said, handing her cocktail from a nearby bar table. "I ordered it. It's a Virgin Colada. I promised Jamie no alcohol will touch yer lips, but this is yummy."

Claire smiled and softened up as she took a sip from her non-alcoholic beverage. "Sorry for sounding ungrateful and being a grump about the stripper. You girls have pulled off a fabulous party for me, and I appreciate it."

Geillis quickly hugged her before raising her glass. "Ach, it's nae bother. What are friends for. Here's to friendship!"

"Friends forever!"

Their glasses clinked and tipped over, and a third of their drinks spilt on the floor. They looked at each other and burst into giggles before they heard a loud shriek coming from Louise.

"What!?! What do you mean the stripper isn't coming?"

..........

Jamie, Willie and their friends entered their local village pub. They have been bar-hopping in the neighbouring towns all evening, drinking, and playing pool and darts. Since they all lived nearby, they had decided to stop by for one last drink before heading home. The place was packed and loud as expected of a Bank Holiday weekend.

Although he had wanted a more subdued bachelor's party, it felt great to hang out with his brother and closest male acquaintances. The only time their party became rowdy was when Jamie was presented with a lap dancer at one of the bars. With phone cameras readily accessible and thinking of how it would look like in the social media, he waivered his right as the man of the hour to his friend, Rupert, who was only too happy to oblige. The last thing he needed was a picture of him in an uncompromising situation.

At the bar, Willie ordered a round of pints and shots for the stag party. Jamie was about to reach for his drink when screams ran through the pub, making everyone crane their necks to look at the commotion. The backroom, usually used for private parties, was lively. Music blared, and he caught a swarm of short skirts, swishing hair and loud revelry.

"Bloody hen party. They're all from yer hotel," the bartender explained as if reading his thoughts. "One of the lasses ordered a male stripper, but I just got a phone call from the lad saying he cannae make it. He came down with the flu or something. I just told one of them, and she wasn't too pleased. When they all hear about it, I'm dead meat. It's all paid for."

A grin tugged at Willie's lips as he looked at Jamie. "Ach, our hens are in there. I remember Geillis saying something about Louise ordering a stripper. Do ye think Claire will be disappointed?"

Before he could reply, a resounding slap hit him on the back. "Weel, Jamie lad, perhaps she'll be disappointed or maybe not. How about giving those lasses something to remember, aye?" Murtagh sallied. "Do a striptease for yer bride. It'll be a story worth telling yer future grandchildren one day."

"If ye're not up for it, I wouldn't mind doing it," Rupert interrupted, joining in the banter and shaking his hips.

Something wicked lit up in him. Inebriated and feeling bold, he playfully shoved his mate on the shoulder. "Aye, that'll be right! No fucking way are ye going anywhere near my Claire. I'm doing it."

Everyone in their party hooted and chanted his name.

"Get in there lad and claim yer bride!"

"Aw, c'mon, Fraser. In a couple of days, she's all yers. I just want to show the lass what she'll be missing once ye're both hitched," Rupert whined, feigning disappointment.

Jamie drained his beer and signalled for another round. "I got this pal. Go get yersel' yer own bride," he grinned, shrugging off his jacket.

"Hey, I have the lad's costume here at the back if ye're doing it. He's about yer size so ye'll have no trouble fitting in it. There's also a wig and a pair of aviator's glasses," the bartender offered, pointing his thumb over his shoulder.

Jamie nodded and made his way to the room behind the bar. It didn't take long before he was kitted into a snug-fitting, fake police uniform. Glancing at the small mirror, he was thrilled at how the black wig, cap and the aviator's glasses concealed his identity nicely. It was a good thing he had shaved off his beard as it would have ruined his disguise. Satisfied, he went back to his friends and was greeted with howls of laughter and cheers. After drinking a couple of shots of whisky, the stag party, led by Jamie, made their way to the back room.

Jamie reached the door, and a petite brunette stumbled out on teetering heels and ran into his chest. He caught her on time. She was one of the staff from the restaurant in their hotel. Her blue eyes sparkled and widened at the sight of him, but there was no trace of recognition. "Ladies!" she screeched as a round of giggles floated past. "Get the music ready!"

Someone grabbed his hand and led him into the room.

He frowned, alcohol dulling his brain for a moment. Then he remembered why he was there. He looked around and found himself in a snake pit. His brother and friends had disappeared into the dark corners, and he was surrounded by women.

There were lots and lots of women, and most of them he knew, but no one recognised him, most probably because of their intoxicated state. They stared at him like he was a feast served on a silver platter. The group started to scream and stamp their heels on the floor.

"He's here!" Louise yelled. "Get ready for an arrest, ladies!"

A lone chair stood in the centre of the circle under the bright light. Suddenly, Joe Cocker's You Can Leave Your Hat On blared through the speakers. Aaah, shite, what have I gotten myself into?

"Take it off, lad!"

"I'm breaking the law, darling, come on over here!"

Louise giggled and crooked her finger. "I've been awfully bad, officer. And I'm concealing a deadly weapon. Come frisk me!" He nearly ran out of the room when she began to jiggle her breasts at him.

He was drunk, and the women were even more so. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Jamie was about to turn around and end the charade when Geillis shook her head in annoyance and yanked his arm. She seemed irritated by his inaction. Obviously, she too was too drunk to recognise him.

"Listen, pal. My mates and I paid good money for ye," she whispered venomously. "Ye look good enough to eat but don't just stand there. Give us a show. We won't bite."

Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck! "Listen, this is a mistake," Jamie started.

Geillis rolled her eyes. "Ach, for crying out loud. Just take yer shirt off, dance a bit and arrest someone. I promise I'll tip ye extra. Oh, curly tops Claire is the bride, she is hiding over there." She pointed her finger at her friend, squashed between two other girls with a scared look at her face. Aah, Sassenach!

"She doesn't look interested," he said. "Maybe getting her a stripper wasn't such a bright idea, huh?"

Geillis glowered at him. "For fuck sake, I'm sorry if ye're suddenly shy and want to retreat, but ye're here now. Just take some clothes off, shimmy yer hips and make the lassies happy. Deal?" He was about to open his mouth to tell her there won't be any clothes taken off, but she clapped her hands. "Alright, ladies, our hot copper is ready. Claire, get yer arse on the chair."

The group screamed and whistled and stamped their feet. Pound notes waved madly in the air. Women danced provocatively to the beat, waiting for him to start stripping.

He turned his attention to Claire and watched her walk to the centre. She weaved her way through screaming women, and instead of sitting on the chair, she positioned herself right in front of him. He wondered if she would see through his disguise since she was the only sober person in the room.

Without the leather jacket, her dress clung to her curves like a second skin, and her front showed far too much cleavage. As enticing as she looked, Jamie was glad the stripper didn't come and that his friends were in the far end of the room. With her long legs clad in knee-high boots, her hair all loose, and pouty lips painted red, his future wife looked sexy as hell. She was all tits, legs and curves.

Ignoring the noise and urging of the crowd, he stared helplessly at her, completely intoxicated, besotted and aroused all at the same time.

Her teeth pulled at her lower lip, and she frowned. "Jamie?"

He let out a sigh of relief. "Sssh, the lassies don't know it's me. I was told at the bar the stripper couldn't come, so I took his place. I ken it's a stupid drunken idea..."

A giggle escaped her lips. "Louise hired a cop stripper. I begged Geillis to take my place, but she wouldn't have any of it." Her head tipped up and down to look at him. "I'm glad now she didn't take my place. That uniform looks incredibly hot on you, and I'm afraid you do look like a stripper."

He moved closer. "You think?"

"Yes."

The women roared their frustration, chanting for him to strip.

"What should I do?"

"I can see you brought the stag party with you. Why not give them a show," Claire replied, looking over his shoulder.

Surprised at her bold request, he grinned. "Be careful what you wish for, Sassenach," he warned in a low voice.

Claire took a step forward to nip at his earlobe, her breath rushing in his ear. "So I've been told often enough." Pulling away, she arched an eyebrow and smiled at him. "Well? Are you putting on a show for the bride-to-be? Or are you chickening out?"

He didn't know if it was the alcohol or her teasing that pushed him. Without warning, he tossed her over his shoulder and deposited her right on the chair, making her squeal.

The women screamed in delight and the men at the back wolf-whistled. The music rolled out its slow rhythm, but he refused to dance. Instead, his fingers paused at the top of his shirt, stroking slow. As the screams of the crowd got louder, he flicked the button open, making Claire's eyes widened in shock, her lips forming an O shape.

He repeated the motion with the second button, and pound notes started flying through the air and chants of "take it off" vibrated the room. He took no notice of the frenzy and focused intently only on her.

He watched her gaze follow the motions of his hand, her cheeks flushing profusely and her mouth opening and closing as if wanting to say something, but no words came out. "Do ye want me to continue, Sassenach?"

Even with the deafening noise, she heard him clearly. "Yes," she nodded, looking like she was in a trance.

With slow, deliberate motions, he finished unbuttoning his shirt and slowly parted the material.

The crowd went wild.

The fact Claire's friends didn't recognise him, emboldened him further. He leaned down and braced his hands on both sides of her chair. "They want more," he said. "Do ye want more?"

She stared into his eyes before answering. "Yes."

Reaching over to pull her to her feet, he grabbed her hands and pressed them to his chest. "Do it for me then, Sassenach."

In his periphery, he saw Laoghaire taking photos. What is she doing here? This was a private party. Then he realised she thought he was just a hired stripper.

Refocusing on Claire, he felt her hands stroke his abdomen. Her name was chanted in unison, commanding her to take it all off for him. Her fingers traced the edge of his belt buckle, and then she paused. Their gazes locked. "No." Her voice broke. He caught a glimpse of raw possessiveness in her eyes. "I don't want anyone else to see you."

He muttered a vicious curse. "Good because I've had enough of this. I just want to take ye home."

"What are you waiting for? Take me home then, Jamie."

He quickly refastened the buttons on his shirt as loud boos filled the air. Beyond caring, he gathered Claire in his arms and kissed her thoroughly, and when she twined her arms around his neck and kissed him back, he heard the loud gasps of her friends' shock and whistles from the stag group. And more picture snaps from Laoghaire.

"Claire!" Geillis shouted in disbelief. She tried to stop Laoghaire from taking more photos, thinking her friend was kissing a stranger. But Claire wasn't listening.

"Home it is then. Hang on tight, Sassenach, we'll make this an exit they'll never forget," he said against her lips. When she nodded, he lifted her up, and she held on burrowing her face against his neck.

"Hey, stop! Ye cannae take the bride. Ye're supposed to strip and not haul her like a caveman."

"Too bad. I'm stealing the bride!" Jamie yelled as he fought his way through a crowd of tipsy and bewildered women.

"Stop him!" someone shouted.

He was about to reach for the door when Jenny jumped and blocked their exit. Her cheeks were red and flushed, and her eyes had a determined look. She waved an empty bottle of wine in the air in a threatening manner. "Listen, ye moron. Ye put my sister-in-law down slowly and carefully, and no one will get hurt," she cautioned, in a slurred voice.

"Jenny!" Claire blurted.

"It's alright Claire bear, I got this," Jenny said, swinging her weapon at Jamie. She took a step forward, stopped and blinked. "Huh? Jamie?"

"Aye, it's me," Jamie hissed impatiently. "Can't ye recognise yer own flesh and blood?"

"What the hell!?! It's that bloody wig and those ridiculous glasses! What are ye doing here?"

"Out of the way, we're going," Jamie muttered. He made a move to go past Jenny, but Laoghaire blocked their path and took another picture of them.

"Wait till Jamie sees what ye've been up to," Laoghaire sneered at Claire, waving her phone in one hand.

Jamie was slowly losing patience. He gently put Claire down and confronted the blond girl. "Aye, I ken fine what Claire's been up to," he snapped, wrenching the aviators and plucking the cap and wig from his head and throwing them on the floor. "And ye shouldn't be here. This is a private party, and I don't think ye're invited. Now leave and do something good in yer life for once."

He felt Claire tugging his arm, but he waited until an embarrassed and speechless Laoghaire was led out of the room by one of his friends, not trusting her to turn his back. When she was finally gone, the whole place erupted in cheers and whistles.

"Jesus, Jamie, all these crazy girls coming out of the woodwork. Do you think we'll ever make it to our wedding without another girl popping up to tear us apart?" Claire asked in exasperation.

Annoyance surged, but he quickly tamped it down. It wasn't his fault, and neither was it Claire's. If he had his way, they would have been married weeks ago and skipped all the frippery that entailed the wedding. He closed the distance between them and pulled her against him. "I know, Sassenach and I'm so sorry. Sometimes grief is a price we pay for love. In the end, we're both stronger because of it."

"I know. And I'm sorry too. I don't have doubts about us. I just don't like people getting hurt." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the lips. "Shall we go? I would like a continuation of that striptease," she teased, trying to lighten the moment.

Her suggestion made his stomach clench. "Now we're talking," he said in a low voice, a half-smirk tugging at his lips.

Willie slapped him on the back. "Get a room both of ye! Go now, before the mob forces ye to stay," he joked, pulling a tipsy Geillis to his side.

"Aye, go and sorry ...but not sorry for forcing ye to strip," Geillis winked. "Now that everyone knows that it's you, they're even more disappointed that the show is over."

Rupert joined in, followed by a waiter with a tray of drinks. "I hope the party is not over. I just ordered drinks for everyone."

Jamie jerked his thumb towards the group of girls. "I warmed them up. They're all yers now. Claire and I are going." He touched Claire's belly and grinned. "Ye lot are too rowdy for the baby. See ye when I see ye."

Without a backward glance, he led Claire out of the pub, and they walked home hand in hand. Once in the house, they had a little party of their own.

#melodyheart #forgetmenot #Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser #outlanderfanfic

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belphegor1982 · 4 years

Note

How about the first chapter Tommy appears?

[Pick any passage from any fanfic I’ve written, and stick that selection in my ask/fan mail/submission box. I will then give you the equivalent of a DVD commentary on that snippet!]

Thanks a lot!! (Also I answered this kind of ask about a passage from chapter 2, if you want to take a look - it’s all spoiler-free!)

Here’s Thomas Sean Ferguson’s grand introduction, then :D Oh god, it’s kind of awkward, because like with Blake there’s a certain amount of early installment weirdness. Also I go on and oooooooon (sorry about that). But let’s go!

_________

Quite lost in his thoughts this time, [Jonathan] barely registered that he was walking past the Museum (where Evy is, right now, negotiating the Cairo Museum “lending” the Diamond of Ahm Shere to the British government - which kickstarts the plot) before somebody knocked into him, hard enough for both of them to crumple, breathless, on the ground. It took Jonathan thirty seconds to get his lungs in working order again and, instinctively, check his pockets for anything missing.

A lot of this commentary risks being “this used to be [thing] before I tweaked it in the rewrites”, and a lot of it is because I’ve gained some insight in the past twelve years. Jonathan’s first thought being checking his pockets (which - and I made it explicit in the second or third paragraph of the story :D - comes from his being a skilled pickpocket himself and knowing how it works), however, was there from the very beginning.

“So sorry I bumped into you, mate, didn’t mean to,” came the voice of the attacker. Jonathan’s eyes widened at the sound of this voice and he squinted up at its owner.

And cue Tom Ferguson :D He wasn’t my first OC, far from it (that dubious honour would probably belong to the buttload of OCs I created for my Marauder era story which died when Order of the Phoenix came out), but he was the first I got to really explore and develop, and he ended up one of my favourites ever. Em, I answered an ask of yours way back in 2015, “introduce us to two of your OCs” :o) The first was him, the second was Marguerite LeBeau.

“Tommy? Is that you? Tommy Ferguson?”

The diamond is the reason the O’Connell-Carnahan gang goes to Egypt, but without Tommy, there’d be no plot. Hamilton would probably still find a way to “retrieve” the diamond from the museum, only without Evy and her family getting personally involved and then having to go back to the UK saying she failed her mission. and then cue the end of the world about a week and a half from there, but shhh - spoilers!

The fellow shook his head, still looking a bit dazed; then his own eyes, round and brown, (so he’s the opposite of Jon in almost every way, physically speaking. Like I said in the aforementioned OC ask, I designed him as a foil for Jon, fundamentally different in some ways but very similar in others. Physically speaking he’s basically Sean Astin (with some James Corden thrown in) with brown eyes, blond hair, and a Liverpool accent.) went even rounder as he stared at Jonathan. “Jon! What the hell are you doing ‘ere?”

For the longest time Tommy used to call Jonathan by his last name here (and Jon’s earlier line used to be “Ferguson? Is that you? Tommy Ferguson?”). I changed it quite recently. I think I wanted to convey the idea that school friends at the time often called each other by their last names; but since he calls Jonathan “Jon” 100% of the time - and is the only one to do so, which I have Feelings about - I went back to correct it.

“Glad to see you too, old chap,” laughed Jonathan, standing up and dusting himself off before offering a hand at the man on the ground, who accepted it gladly.

Heh. Look, one of the staples of Mummy fanfiction was and still is the old school friend of Evy’s who follows either the siblings (TM time) or the whole family (TMR/post-TMR time) to Egypt and falls in love with Ardeth Bay. I’m not throwing stones here; I’ve read a couple I really liked. There’s the odd Jonathan/OFC romance, too. What I set out to do as a baby writer (I was 21 at the time!) and unsuspecting ace was to write something completely devoid of romance (except the odd Evy/Rick snuggle and, of course, all-encompassing love for each other). And then, as I reread the story for rewrites a decade and a half later, I became more and more convinced that Jonathan and Tommy used to be more than friends, and then when Elizabeth came along the three of them got together as a thruple and very happy for a while. (For some reason I couldn’t work this explicitly into FTaH, though - it felt too much like hinting at this huge story I was never going to write and might have made FTaH much too crowded. So it’s up to the reader to decide, really. Personally, I like both options.) So here’s 37 year old me shipping Jon with a female OC and a male OC, and quite enthusiastically, at that. *chuckles* Wonder what my 21 y-o self would think of it…

He hadn’t seen Thomas Ferguson since some time after the end of the war, what felt like ages ago. They’d made quite a pair at Oxford, the two of them – the scrawny, foppish Southerner with the quiet grin and the sticky fingers, and the broad-shouldered, round-faced Scouser with the laughing eyes and the deceptively innocent face. They’d rowed for the Dark Blues for a bit, got properly pickled on Boat Race Nights, and helped each other out of many a tight spot. Oh, for the halcyon days of youth.

One of the reasons I picked up FTaH again is because the second half of 2019 was very, very British for me. I saw (and read) Good Omens for the first time in early June and my feelings exploded; July was very much about discovering the delights of P.G. Wodehouse’s Jeeves and Wooster (TV show and books). Halfway through that month I remembered my everlasting fondness for the characters of The Mummy and realised the protagonists and Bertie were the same generation, more or less, and I started imagining a crossover. By the time August rolled in I was fully into TM/TMR again, reading fic and my fingers itching to at least correct some iffy parts of FTaH. This last sentence, about Jon’s and Tom’s Oxford days, would never have come out that way if I hadn’t read Wodehouse.

As soon as Tommy was on his feet he was wringing Jonathan’s hand with all the energy he’d been famous for as a boy. “Sorry, Jon, mate, I was a bit stunned –” After all these years, he still retained some of that accent, too! “– En’t everyday you bump into a pal from Oxford in the middle of Cairo! How’d you get here, for starters?”

…Tommy’s accent. *sighs* I’m not a fan of writing accents phonetically in the first place. When I write Newkirk (Hogan’s Heroes) and his Cockney accent, there isn’t much except the odd “me” for “my” or things like “d’you”. I did have to make it obvious Tommy had an accent, though, if only because later Jonathan is surprised when he tones it down to speak with the curator. (This is something his 18 year old self found incredibly difficult, btw.) @thisstableground oversaw the first chapter and gave me very valuable tips, including “en’t” (// “ain’t), which was super helpful in giving Tommy’s accent its own specificity and meant that I didn’t need him to drop “h”s and “g”s all over the place. (which he does do, but hopefully not in a way that takes you away from the story.)

As for why he’s from Liverpool as opposed to, say, Manchester or the East End of London, the answer is very simple. I’d discovered the Beatles a year or two prior and they remain one of my favourite bands in the whole world ♥

“Well, I followed my sister,” Jonathan replied, grinning. In fifteen years or so, he had not realised how much he had actually missed this accent. “She’s giving a hand to the curator of the Museum of Antiquities – she’s something of an authority now, as a matter of fact.”

“Oh aye? That’s fantastic. I en’t forgotten how you’d talk about her, y’know. On and on and on. I’m curious to see what she looks like.”

Somethingthat didn’t change after rewrites is the idea that Jon was verysecretive about his Oxford years. Tom and Evy never met before this,and Evy hadn’t even heard about Tom before.

Jonathan stole a glance at the entrance steps of the Museum, and turned to Tommy with a smirk. “Really? Well, if you really want to, I suppose I could…”

His sister had just appeared on the stairs, accompanied by the curator, an elderly man with greying hair and whiskers. The curator, Dr Fahad Hakim, has a somewhat larger role later on, but this is just a cameo to let you know he exists :o) There’s another mention earlier, too. Tommy followed Jonathan’s gaze and looked at them, goggling at Evy in particular.

“Jon – are my eyes mistaken, or is this gorgeous woman Doctor Evelyn O’Connell? I’ve read about her, she’s famous in my line of work… According to what I’ve read, she was one of the first people to make it out of the City of the Dead alive –”

He doesn’t say what his “line of work” is, but we (and Jonathan) can infer it has something to do with archaeology or Egyptology. And, incidentally, I’m setting up the first alarm bells here because, as Evy points out in the following chapter, at the time her name was “Carnahan”, so how come Tommy didn’t seem to make the connection between Jon’s bookish sister and this English librarian with the same name? The answer is: because he’s nervous (because he’s in Cairo on secret Chamber of Horus business) and as delighted as he is to see Jon again after so many years his brain went “YOU KNOW NOTHING” then backpedalled and went “…OKAY, YOU KNOW SOME THINGS.”

Jonathan’s grin widened as he nodded. “Yes, that’d be her.”

Tommy rambled on as they walked closer to the stairs, “That’s bloody amazing! I thought she’d look, you know, like in the pictures in the paper, the bookish type with glasses – your typical Southern spinster,” he added with a wink. They waited for the curator to bid her goodbye, and Jonathan, greatly enjoying the situation, crept up on his sister to kiss her on the cheek.

“Hey there, old mum – how’s your day been?”

Evy started, then her expression shifted from slightly irked to a smile at her brother’s laugh. She rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Jonathan, the things that amuse you…”

SIBS!!! I love writing siblings, and those two in particular. One of the things that I find amusing/endearing is how comfortable they are with each other, physically (and emotionally) speaking. It’s all gentle touch here, light slap there, running hand in hand, lots of things you wouldn’t expect from two Very English siblings from the first half of the 20th century.

“You’re just miffed that I startled you. C’mon, I’d like you to meet someone – an admirer,” he added with a grin to Tommy, who stood there, his eyes wide. “Thomas Ferguson, an old school friend of mine. Tommy – Evelyn Carnahan O’Connell, my famous baby sister.”

There’s a couple of instances where someone introduces Tom as “Thomas”, or Tom introducing himself as such. Most of the time, though, he’s “Tommy” - until chapter 9, where we spend some time in his head for the first time and see he thinks of himself as “Tom”, and when we go back to Jon’s PoV in chapter 11 Jonathan made the mental switch to “Tom”, as well, to separate the boy from his youth from the man he’s become. I actually spell it out in chapter 17: “A lot had happened since that late afternoon in Giza when his friend had pointed a gun at him and stopped being ‘Tommy’. ‘Tommy’ was a warm memory of loud laughter, daring escapes, bright eyes over pints clinking in the comfortable darkness of a well-loved pub. Tom, on the other hand, was a fairly decent man chucked into a complex situation, who had a wife he loved dearly but lied to about his job, who had not wanted to bring harm to an old friend but had done so anyway.”

Evy held out her hand, which Tommy grabbed and shook heartily. “So you’re the old scoundrel’s sister? No wonder he talked about you – though you don’t quite fit the description now…”

“What exactly did you tell your ‘school friends’ about me?” asked Evy, warning in her voice, though the twinkle in her eye did not quite disappear. Nevertheless, Jonathan preferred to ignore her question, earning a hard nudge in the ribs.

He bragged, actually. A lot. Since he thought Tommy and Lizzie would never meet Evy, Jonathan considered himself free to speak quite enthusiastically of his baby sister’s achievements and how bright she was. Of course, he also complained a good deal, because even at 12 Evy had a penchant for being bossy that came out even in letters.

“So, what did you say your ‘line of work’ was?” he asked Tommy.

“Well – don’t laugh. I work at the British Consulate in Cairo, specialising in antique stuff. Oh, I’m sorry, Dr O’Connell,” he stammered with a glance at Evy who had an eyebrow raised, “I mean I’m one of the chief agents in the British Antique Research Department.”

No he’s not! He’s actually a secret agent, kinda :D And not remotely close to a “chief agent”, at that. Tom Ferguson is deeply in love with his wife and nothing will ever change that state of affairs, but he might have a little intellectual crush on Evy, which leads him to… wanting to impress her a little bit.

“I’ve heard of you!” exclaimed Evy. “At least of that Research Department. They’re gradually cutting off public funds – encouraging individual financing – but that won’t do any good for scientific research! Such a stupid decision is only going to –”

“So you lot are the ones she kept fuming about for half a year!” Jonathan snorted. The infamous Ferguson rotten luck struck again.

I still regret I didn’t find more opportunities to showcase how ridiculously unlucky Tommy could get sometimes. Ah well.

Tommy looked dejected. Evy must have seen this, because she bit her lip and said, in softer tones, “Look, I’m sorry I snapped at you. But as my brother said, I’ve been… rather upset over this. There’s been some pressure on the British Museum lately by private patrons who threatened to pull out their funding on some… sensitive collections. Without the Crown to back us up, we might have to cave in to their ridiculous demands.”

Before the rewrites, Evy’s speech used to be a lot more “private funding is bad” without much nuance or justification. I changed it to something that hopefully makes sense and justifies her previous outburst.

“I’ll – I’ll tell my superiors about it,” said Tommy, still looking unsure. “See what I can do. I’m sure it won’t be much, but… Well. I’ll have tried.”

“That’s nice,” Evy said cheerfully, taking Jonathan’s arm and starting to walk. See what I mean about physicality? She doesn’t even ask him with a look, just takes his arm and that’s that. And he lets her, because he’d do the same thing. “Look, the two of you – I’ve had something of a rough day, so I’ll go home, if you don’t mind. You can –”

“Brilliant idea!” said Jonathan, flashing a grin at his sister. “I thought of going to the Sultan’s Casbah, but you might find it a tad – let’s say – dingy, my good friend.”

The Sultan’s Casbah, in the novelisation of the film and my personal headcanon, was the bar Jonathan patronised the night before the first time we see Evy and where he stole a valuable-looking puzzle box from an unsuspecting drunk American.

“Worse than the Turf?” Seeing Evy’s puzzled look, Tommy explained, “Sorry, private joke. I mean the Turf Tavern, that’s where I saw him for the first time. Me family didn’t ‘ave much money, so I used to work there to pay for my studies. Very nice pub, didn’t deserve the reputation.”

The Best Beloved and I took a trip to Oxford in the spring of 2003 (by bus - 20 hours to get there, same to come back home) and while we were so broke we had to settle for a soup and some rice in a lovely Thai restaurant we did go for a drink at the Turf. I remember a dimly-lit room with dark wood, and I think either they changed a lot of it or my memory isn’t that good because it doesn’t really look like that on the Google Maps pics. Still, I liked it, and when I needed an Oxford pub for the story it’s the one I worked in. Incidentally, there was a lot of illegal gambling going on in there in the 19th century, hence Tommy’s mention of the pub’s bad reputation.

“I’m sure you did indeed see a lot of my brother there,” Evy slipped in slyly. Jonathan threw a mock glare at her.

“To think you are almost my only family. What a shame.” Then, as Tommy looked uncertain, he added, “Carry on, Tom.”

“All right. So I was one of the only students who needed a job, and there were some others who thought that it was – how’d they put it? – a ‘disgrace’ to our university.”

“Preposterous,” said Evy sternly. “As if money could take you further than talent.”

Jonathan bit back on the cynical comment that crossed his mind. Sometimes Evy’s naïveté baffled him.

“Right,” said Tommy uncertainly, glancing at Jonathan. “So, one day, a little bunch of lads come in, and Jon here was sometimes hanging with ‘em at the time –”

Because Jonathan likes to gamble with people with deep pockets :P

Evy glared at Jonathan in advance, and he threw his hands in the air. “Don’t look at me like that! I haven’t done anything!” Evy’s gaze softened, and Jonathan finished, “…Yet.”

That earned him a playful slap on the arm, and a laugh from Tommy, who went on, “Anyway, one of the blokes orders somethin’ or other, and starts to poke fun at me. Well, I was used to it, so I let them be. Then they continued, and I finally noticed that skinny lad in the corner who was makin’ fun of them for making fun of me. Didn’t quite understand what the hell was going on – oh, sorry, Dr O’Connell – what was happening.”

While John Hannah is not “skinny” by any stretch, he is rather svelte, and one of my unimpeachable headcanons for Jonathan is that he was skinny as a rake in his youth - until he went through basic training (then WW1) and his shoulders filled out a little. It’s more or less what happened to the Best Beloved, so I feel quite secure in this headcanon’s plausibility. Plus, picturing 18 year old Jonathan as a mix of awkward gangliness and skinny limbs and aristocratic poise is just funny. (and I find the comparison with Tommy - who at that point was soft and a little chubby but already had broad shoulders - rather endearing.)

Evy smiled. “You’ll have to watch your mouth in front of my son, but otherwise it’s fine. And please, call me Evelyn.”

Tommy beamed. “Right, uh, Evelyn. So, uh –”

“What he didn’t know at that point,” interrupted Jonathan, “was that I had my eye on that fellow – what’s his name – Farbow. He owed me quite a bit of money, but wouldn’t repay me. So I was looking for a way to get him back for it.”

“And get the rest of his wallet in the process, of course.”

“Evy, he owed me seventeen pounds. (Which used to be £70 until I did some research and saw that £17 was A Bloody Fortune a the time.) And he was not what I’d call a ‘decent bloke’ – nasty, disdainful piece of work he was, and his little friends with him. Always a dirty word about the Scouser who worked at the Turf Tavern, just because he didn’t belong to his snobby little world. I did the community a favour, really.”

What he doesn’t say is that Edwin Farbow also had a lot to say about “half-Egyptian mongrels” who thought they belonged in those ancient walls. Too bad I couldn’t find a way to work it in this particular fic. If I ever manage to finish at least Tommy’s part of One-Step, Two-Step, Waltz, the first chapter of Pirouette features the whole scene.

“Don’t push it, Jonathan,” warned Evy.

Tommy carried on. “Well, I was glad there was at least one person who didn’t think like Edwin Farbow – nice change. Then Farbow said something – I don’t remember what it was about, I just remember it made me really angry, really. An’ it’s not a pretty sight when I’m really angry at someone.”

It’s always the quiet, genial ones, isn’t it.

Jonathan remembered, but thought it wise to keep his mouth shut.

Both because what Farbow said was pretty damn offensive to Tommy’s character, background, and lineage, and also because Farbow’s rant included “It’s bad enough they let inpeople like Carnahan, who only exists because a glorifiedgrave-robber shagged some darkey and didn’t even have the decencyto pretend otherwise –” and he really doesn’t want to bring this up in front of Evy, who’s had to deal with her own share of this kind of racist bullshit and doesn’t need a reminder.

“An’ – an’ I just lost it, y’know? I dropped his tea over his ‘ead –”

“I say, that one was pretty funny,” Jonathan said, smiling widely at the memory. The strangled yelp that had followed had definitely been one of the best parts.

“So they all leaped for me, obviously – began to punch me, the five or six of them – hey, I still managed to get back at them!” Tommy added quickly, as if defending his honour. Evy hid a smile, and it occurred to Jonathan that that last sentence had something very Rick-like about it. “But I en’t a fool. I know a losing fight when I’m in one.”

“Don’t tell me. Jonathan bravely threw himself into the fight to take on as many attackers as possible.” There was mischievous laughter in Evy’s voice, and her eyes were twinkling. If anyone other than her had quipped that way about him, Jonathan would probably have taken offence, or at least pretended to. But they knew each other enough not to cross the line.

Tommy raised an eyebrow. “Well, that wasn’t quite Jon’s style – I don’ know, might’ve changed since then. But yeah, he did. One moment I was squashed under five or six, the next I found out we were two on the floor.”

This was perhaps the biggest suspension of disbelief I’m asking the reader to make - which, in a story where governments have secret agencies to keep an eye on magical ancient artefacts and a diamond has magic powers, is saying something. Jonathan throwing himself into a fight because someone he loves (ie. four people in the whole world that we know of) is in danger? Yep, that checks out, that’s what he does both in TM and TMR. But an (almost) complete stranger? I needed one hell of a justification. Which ended up… 60% Farbow’s money and 40% Farbow being a giant arsehole who had no business making decent bartenders look like that.

Evy began to laugh. “Why, Jonathan? My Jonathan, in a fight, for someone he barely knew?”

At that Jonathan cleared his throat, a mite embarrassed. “I told you, I was looking for Farbow’s wallet. That was the perfect diversion – you should’ve seen that twit looking in every corner for his lost wallet afterwards. It was three months before he gave up.” And it’s lucky you didn’t see me then. I was a bloody mess. “Why’re you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing.” Evy smiled. “You never told me that.”

To be fair, there’s a LOT of things he never told you, old girl ;o)

“Should I have?”

“I don’t know, it’s – it was nice of you to do that, even for the wrong reasons. I’m proud of you.”

Jonathan felt an unexpected lump rise in his throat. Not a very big one, but enough to keep him from talking for a few seconds. It was always like this whenever she said something really nice to him. It caught him off guard each and every time.

Look, it took me years to realise it, but I’m a sucker for validation. Sometimes it bleeds out on characters I write.

After a little while, Evy stopped in front of a door and announced, “Well, we’re home.”

“Nice house,” commented Tommy, taking in the sand-coloured neat front and the curtains at the windows.

“Our ‘old haunt’ since the family moved to Egypt,” Jonathan said, opening the door and stepping aside to let his sister in. “Evy wasn’t even walking then.”

In the first film, Evy, Rick, Jonathan and the remainder of the American party go straight to Fort Brydon, and the next thing we see is Evy emptying her suitcase while Rick tries to fill it. Since both Carnahan siblings actually live in Cairo, I thought they would live in an actual house, and from there I extrapolated that the family had one house in England (the manor we see in TMR) and a smaller pied-à-terre in Cairo.

“I do believe I was,” Evy protested.

Jonathan snorted. “Oh, you weren’t. You crawled.”

si b l i n gssss ♥♥ And like, you can always count on a big sib to remind you that you could be ridiculous as a kid. I should know, I’m the big sister :D

Evy seemed to resist the urge to slap her brother and walked into the living room, her nose in the air. She was greeted by two simultaneous voices:

“Mum!”

“Hey, hon.”

Rick’s first words in this story, and it’s greeting his wife ^^ I didn’t do it on purpose, but it’s. Y’know. There.

Jonathan waited a few seconds, then walked into the room in turn, and grinned at the sight of his nephew looking genuinely eager to see him. He was not fooled, however – as soon as Evy wasn’t looking, Alex mouthed the words “Got one?” and frowned as his uncle shook his head. No, he still had no present for Mum’s birthday.

Evy’s birthday mainly originated as a device to get characters (especially Jonathan) moving. It’s the reason he’s roaming the streets of Cairo just before he bumps into Tommy, and why he and Alex go to the bazaar in chapter 5. It also pops up further on in the story, but I’m not saying anything because spoilers.

“Uncle Jon? Who’s that?”

“Who, him?” Jonathan pointed at Tommy behind him, looking uncomfortable at the family reunion, and Alex rolled his eyes. “Tom Ferguson, he was in class with me at Oxford. I ran into him by chance today.”

Tommy stepped past Jonathan and held out his hand to Alex, nearest to him. “Hi – glad to meet you. Jon’s nephew, eh?”

“Yeah,” said Alex, eyeing him with all the suspicion of a ten-year-old who’d seen what he had seen. Behind him, Rick’s eyes spoke loads about his own distrust. But mistrust towards Jonathan and everything related was par for the course on his part, and, admittedly, reasonable.

Alex has Seen Things. This may sound tongue-in-cheek, but it’s true. After what happened in TMR, he’s 100% entitled to being suspicious of strangers. As for Rick, I took my cue from one of his first lines to Jon in TMR being “What did you do this time?” implying that the weird shit happening right now, with the men in red and the sexy lady waving snakes around isn’t exactly unheard of. Hence the “and, admittedly, reasonable”, which I added in the rewrites.

“Thomas Ferguson, British Antique Research Department,” said Tommy, holding out a hand towards Rick, who shook it slowly, still reluctant.

“Rick O’Connell.”

“So you’re Dr O’Connell’s husband? Pleasure to meet you, sir. I’m impressed, you’ve no idea.”

Rick raised an eyebrow. “Impressed?”

“It seems I’m rather famous in the Research Department,” said Evy, laughing.

“Make that infamous,” quipped Jonathan.

“The Department owes your wife a great deal. She was the one who uncovered a huge amount of our information about some obscure periods of Egyptian history, as well as the major part of serious knowledge we’ve got on Hamunaptra,” Tommy pointed out, and Evy blushed. “She’s a legend – one of the original three who managed to go to Hamunaptra and live to tell the tale! But… I assume you’re another one?”

Oh, Tommy. MATE. You’re saying you know three people made it out of Hamunaptra alive, one of whom a woman with the exact same first and last name as your best friend’s sister who had a passion for ancient history, but you had no idea he was one of them as well?

Incidentally, the early installment weirdness I mentioned earlier mostly consists in Tommy being a lot more energetic and innocent-looking than he later proves to be (which is a little more grounded and pragmatic than Jon). In fact, he and Jonathan’s first couple of scenes together give the impression that he’s the red and Jon’s the blue in the “Bue oni, red oni” trope, when later chapters show Jon as a little bit more of a disaster while Tom struggles to make better choices and be more sensible. Which in the end would make them shades of purple, really.

“Yeah,” said Rick, looking a bit nonplussed. Jonathan definitely didn’t regret bringing Tommy in. Seeing Rick O’Connell confused was a very rare occurrence, too rare to be missed.

“I never knew – who was the third one?”

Jonathan was now struggling to keep a straight face. Rick blinked, and pointed at his brother-in-law. “That was him.”

“You!?” God, the look on his face was priceless. “You were at Hamunaptra?”

“Yes,” risked Jonathan, laughter rising in his voice. “And believe me, it wasn’t exactly a picnic. Oh, by the way, there were four of us, not three.”

Meaning Ardeth, of course. My take is that Tommy - and by extension the Chamber of Horus - know about as much about the Medjai as Evy knew about the Book of Amun-Ra prior to the events of TM: a non-negligible amount of information, but all of it second-hand and some of it a bit dicey.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Rick roll his eyes and grinned, undaunted. This was proving to be a fun evening.

Make the most of it, people, because it’s all going to go downhill fast…

Thank you ♥♥♥

#thatsoneginger #ask reply #fic commentary #Fairy Tales and Hokum

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faustandfurious · 5 years

Note

hello and congratulations! now, o prophet, could you please tell me which character (preferably not from the silm) i resemble the most? ~nic (femmefaramir)

Thank you kindly! I make no claim to prophetic gifts, I'm just hoping I won't have an angry mob show up at my door because they hate the characters I have assigned them 😄 (oh well, there are ways to deal with unwanted visitors, taking cues from either Bilbo or Fëanor)

You are ...

Gandalf the G(r)ay!

Using your deep knowledge of LotR to make headcanons 100 % funnier and/or gayer, even writing a paper on the homosexual subtext of Tolkien's works. You are the vaguely more sensible Gandalf to Ell's Radagast, and together your wizardly weirdness is a force to be reckoned with in the fandom. You like Faramir, and he would be honoured to be your pupil

(Tagging you since you sent this on anon @femmefaramir)

#femmefaramir #milestone 300 #answered #gandalf #lotr

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veryfineday · 4 years

Text

Friday 28 May 1830

11 1/2

+ LL L

off at 6 25/.. rain[e]d all the way, b[u]t my plaid cloaK on and did not get wet - a few minutes at my apartment and at the amphitheatre at 7 23/.. - Lecture 4 de mirbel from 7 35/.. to 8 50/.. - breakfast at home over at 9 35/.. - wrote 2 pp. of 1/2 sheet to miss mcL-MacLean and off to de Blainville’s 6th lecture at 10 20/.. - given today in the salle des mineraux where Brongniart monsieur G. St. Hilaire lecture, and on monsieur Brongniart’s days the hour changed from 10 1/2 to 11 - so that Mondays and Wednesdays it will be one sit from 9 Brongniart to 1 1/2 Saint H-[Hilaire] De Blainville Leçon 6 from 10 35/.. to 12 10/.. - G. St. Hilaire Leçon 3 from 12 1/2 to 1 1/4 -

hurried home - just got in before it began to rain pretty smartly - at my desk at 1 3/4 - wrote 1/2 sheet full to Lady Stuart - thanK you very very much for 2 last letters - she the only one upon whose account of miss mcL-[MacLean] I can depend - Vere, poor dear girl, cannot judge, and such is miss mcL-[MacLean]’s infatuation it is impossible to place any confidence in what she says of her health - I have long ceased to name the subject to her save in the most cautious manner Knowing how tremblingly alive she is to the least word that hints at her delusion - I see how it is - I dread this weaKness, and fear she will never be well enough to leave London - Lady S-[Stuart] read the greatest Kindness to us all in preventing her setting off - it would indeed have been madness perhaps Lady S-Stuart the only who deeply I grieve over the whole thong - I dwell upon all the circumstances till I am quite miserable - have said as much as I thought prudent to Vere - astonished at its having so little apparent effect - but now rejoice - it will save her much uneasiness -

mention having heard from Lady Gordon - perhaps we may one day set up another journey together but I have said nothing about it for the present as she seems determined to spend the summer at home and my plans are too uncertain to be named - I should liKe to go to the Pyrennes, and we talKed of it the other day at the Embassy - but I never thinK of travelling without being in despair at prince Leopold’s abdication ‘C’est un vrai malheur - not that I thought of going to Athens by the next Steamer - but I shall do nothing without telling ‘you for you I Know are always interested for me - so do not believe me gone or going anywhere ‘till you hear from my myself’ conclude with adieu I hope to have better and better accounts of you ever very af[f]ectionately yours A Lister -

wrote a full 1/2 sheet quicKly said I wrote in a hurry, true, to miss Hobart - style less grave - more familiar - more easy - less remote from flippant than usual - sent my love in return to your Chares - said I could call him nothing else - and this was long when one was in a hurry - how did she liKe Y.C.? mentioned having paid her bill at Batton’s yesterday and said I had enclosed it - however I afterwards found that I had in my hurry omitted to put it in -

wrote 2 1/2 pp. of 1/2 sheet very Kind to miss mcL-[MacLean] enclosed madame Galvani’s letter to miss H-[Hobart] and the letter to ‘miss Caton’ and ditto to ‘miss Glynn’ and my letter to ‘miss Hobart’ in an envelope, and my letter to ‘miss maclean’ in an envelope and after having read them all over put them with my letter to Lady S-[Stuart] in large envelope directed to the ‘Honourable Lady Stuart Whitehall’ and sent it off by george (who came at 4) at 4 40/.. tho the chief packet for Miss H[obart] directed it to lady S[tuart] thinking after a minute or twos consideration this would be the best

asKed miss H-[Hobart] to finish the direction of madame G-’s [Galvani’s] letters ‘miss Caton chez the marquis de wellesley and miss Glynn BerKeley Square - et voilà tout ce que je sais’ - wrote the last 28 lines which tooK me till 5 20/.. -

off at 5 3/4 - tooK fiacre from the Place Maubert - from there home in 20 minutes at 6 20/.. - dressed - dinner at 7 - read the paper - had the porter up - he had seen monsieur de Favière’s attorney who wants me to pay the 88/.[francs] contrbution directes, and deduct it out of the rent as I seem determined not to pay these contributions - told the porter to say I declined paying in advance or any way or having anything to do with the thing, and left it to him to explain now it is once as certified I have no bussiness to pay - said I was very well satisfied with what he had done and gave him 10/.francs for which he seemed really very much obliged -

came to my room at 8 55/.. - looKing over my money ect. - on coming home to dinner found my album come - no letter - Lady S-[Stuart] miss mcL-[MacLean] and miss Hobart and Lady Gordon have written in it - the 1st affectionate - the 2nd melancholy, the 3 very prettily selected the 4th made me laugh - poor miss mcL-[MacLean] it seems as if she thought she should not live long - they have sent the album because thay thinK she will never bring it? my heart ached to see it -

my aunt poorly today - sicKish all the day, and inclined to have spasms at dinner - Coffee at 9 1/2 - came bacK to my room at 10 25/.. at which hour F55 1/2 - fair but streets wet - several showers during the day - rained the whole way from home to the rue Saint V-[Victor] this morning, and then must have been a good deal of wet this evening - 1/2 hour reading Thomas’s practice of physic - articles Lepra and dropsy -

#anne lister code breaker #1830 #lady stuart #vere hobart #sibella maclean #lady gordon #aunt anne

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katealexandra26 · 7 years

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Turning the Page (2/?)

Summary: After several long years, Emma and Killian are finally getting the second chance they thought was beyond reach. At the same, Henry Mills is still struggling to find his own story while beloved family members live out theirs. Belief and hope guiding him, he leans on his other mother, Regina, and another version of his stepfather, Captain Hook, to help him write his next chapter. And someday he’ll return home to share his epic tale with the rest of his Charming family.

Rating: Mature (for now)

Catch up here: Ch 1

Also on: ao3 | ff.net

Author’s Note: This started as a little drabble post-7×02. I have a few ideas about where I want this to go and I hope you like it. I’m going to do my best to write and post one approximately 500 word chapter everyday because it’s a manageable goal. Enjoy!

Hook was sitting on the the log by the dying fire, staring at the chess piece he’d carried across many realms, when he felt the tip of a hook tapping on his arm. He looked up to see Emma’s Killian eyeing him with a natural expression. By the tilt of his head towards the other side of the clearing, he understood Killian intended for them to talk away from the others. He followed, trying to prepare himself for what might be unsaid between them.

“Aye, what is it you wished to say?” Hook demanded of the other man.

“My wife has placed her trust in you by asking you to look after Henry. You have to understand how important it is, that you do not break that trust. Emma’s trust was one of the things that set me on the path to let go of my villainy and explore the possibility of a happy ending, or, as Emma prefers, a happy beginning,” Killian explained, though Hook could tell there was more to be said from the way he paused.

“I understand this is a second chance and I don’t intended to waste it,” Hook stressed, almost desperate that his doppelganger believed he meant it. After almost separating the man from his child, a pain he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy, Killian had still pleaded with Emma to save his life, thus Hook now felt a debt was owed.

“I hope you do not. I think you should also know that Henry is the one responsible for setting the events in motion that lead Emma to me. Emma had Henry when she was incarcerated for crimes the father of her child pinned on her. Young and alone, she gave Henry up to give him his best chance unlike our own fathers who were selfish and abandoned us to save himself. Regina,” Killian pointed towards the Evil Queen, “she adopted Henry and raised him alone until Henry was 10 and set out to bring Emma to Storybrooke. He helped her find her parents and she eventually found me. Her family became my family and though I might not be the lad’s birth father, make no mistake, Henry is my son and I love him as such.”

“He seems like a fine young man. I’m sure… well… I’m sure he’ll be okay,” he mumbled, stumbling over his words, a little embarrassed that for all the languages he knew, words had failed him just then. Killian chuckled softly at this.

“He may seem grown but he’s still a lad in many ways and you know it. I need you to promise me that you will look after my son, as though he was your own, because whether he means to or not, he’ll look to you for guidance and support because you are a version of the man that helped raise him,” Killian asked, intentions finally aired out.

“I owe both you and Emma for saving my life, so I promise, on my honour, that I will guide and protect young Henry in your stead,” he vowed, extending his hand.

To be continued…

tagging some folks under the cut who asked to be tagged, liked this story or those whom I believe will (if you want to be tagged/untagged just ask):

@haunted-nymph, @greenleaf777, @x-prettybird-x, @electria1, @love-with-you-i-have-everything, @alys07, @stina-g, @captainpoe, @caoimhejm, @iacobdiana2000, @anaztaziya, @lindseythompsonxoxo, @rubyrose82, @onceuponaswans, @flyflyangel, @feigninghapiness, @andiirivera, @teamhook, @atlanticstardust, @noneplus5cups, @fleurreads, @lenfazreads, @lenfaz, @klar425, @deathbycaptainswan, @timeless-love-story, @galadriel26, @a-little-squirrely-sunshine, @liketenerifesea, @snowbellewells, @spartanguard, @kmomof4, @optomisticgirl, @woofiefangirl, @sambethe, @bethacaciakay, @xhookswenchx, @disneylady21, @lanacorde, @pinkbonesforeverblog, @sherifffjones, @mr-and-mrs-killian-jones, @whimsicallyenchantedrose, @flslp87, @blessed-but-distressed

#captain swan #cs ff #cs fic #cs angst #cs mc fic #turning the page

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youngdumbbrokehighschoolki-blog3 · 4 years

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@nikkaaanavarro

The Fifth commandment of God

by Dianne G. Cuartero

Honor your father and mother.

This is the first commandment with a promise,

that it may go well with you

and that you may have a long life on earth.

Hindi lahat tayo magiging magulang pero lahat tayo ay naging anak (Not all will become parents but we were all children once). This is a line from one Filipino movie which shows the reality that not all will become parents, but we are all children of our parents. It shows that everyone can relate to God’s message about honouring our parents

This is the fifth commandment, and the first commandment pertaining to other people – the first four about God. It also says that this carries a promise – having a long life on earth. Thus, we can see how important, serious, and rewarding this commandment is.

Our parents are the first representation of Jesus on earth. They were the ones who first showed us God’s love. I believe this is the reason why God asks us to honor them, and why it carries a great promise.

Lola Gloria is an old woman living under a bridge. He could no longer stand with so much indignation and despair of the bones. His house was woven with wood and tarpaulins. It was obvious to her skin that she was not bathed. Lola Gloria also said that she only eats when someone gives her food. His condition is miserable. We saw a man living next to Aling Gloria's house. He is young and looks strong but he does nothing to help the elderly. And money is better than money to help grandma. The Bible tells us to love our parents, but why does he do that? Honoring our parents is more than just physical respect. It starts from the inside. We should respect our parents, especially when we do not agree with them. Age, experience, and accomplishments do not give us permission to argue with our parents – thinking that we know more, or we are more updated, or we are better than them. When God says we honor our parents, we honor them, period. Lolaneeds to be taken to a home for the aged so that she can be better cared for and provided for her needs. And to those who want to help Lola Gloria just go under the bridge and reach out to her with a little help. Don't give her money, it's better to have food and clothes to give her.

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astrotranslations · 7 years

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ASTRO, a Good Example of Growth

Usually you would look at children and say, "They grow up differently each day," and boy group ASTRO are like that. ASTRO, who recently surpassed their 500th day since debut, have shown us attention grabbing growth with every album.

ASTRO held their first fanmeeting last February at the Jangchung Gymnaisum and met with 5000 fans. Soon after, they went full force touring 4 Asian countries and captured the hearts of international fans. The title track 'Baby' off their 4th mini album, 'Dream Part. 01', which they finished promoting for last month, was nominated no.1 on a music broadcast for the first time since their debut. ASTRO, who also successfully wrapped up their first solo concert which they dreamt about for so long, have their Japan Zepp tour ahead of them this month. They are what you would call 'a good example of growth'.

10: How have you been doing since concluding promotions for 'Baby'? JinJin: Firstly, we held 'The 1st ASTROAD to Seoul' at the Olympic Hall located in Olympic Park, Seoul last month on the 15th and 16th. We went on a 2 nights 3 day long break after that ended. We’re now preparing for our Japan Zepp tour. We’ll also be making an appearance at KCON 2017 LA and KBS2’s Music Bank in Jakarta so we’re diligently practicing.

10: How do you feel having held your first solo concert? Rocky: I thought a solo concert was a faraway dream but standing on that stage myself, it made me think, "We’ve already grown this much," and I was fascinated. I think the future will be filled with even more exciting events.

10: What was the moment you remembered the most during the concert? Eunwoo: When we first appeared. The first song (we performed) was 'HIDE&SEEK'. We appeared from the smaller stages instead of the main one in order to match the song’s title. I’m reminded of how the fans were surprised yet still cheering for us. We recently released our official lightstick, 'robong-ie', and seeing the audience be illuminated by robing-ie’s purple light made a smile stay on my face. I had to go up on stage putting on a cool facial expression but I was smiling like a clown. Moonbin: It was when we sang 'Every Minute' that left an imprint in my memory. It’s a song that I like and during that song, we appeared on stage wearing formal outfits, giving off a serious image. The fans were satisfied. Sanha: As for me, it’s when our fans did the slogan event. We were singing our b-side track, 'Star’, and the fans held up slogans on which were written, 'We’ll alway be on your side'. I got emotional and was thankful.

10: Holding a solo concert was one of the dreams you mentioned in an interview with tenasia last year in November. JinJin: That’s right! Like mentioned before, we assembled 'AROHA' and held a fan meeting. This was also a goal we prayed for (at the time of the interview). Since debut and up till now, the scale of our concerts grow bigger each time. The number of fans who support us have grown as much. Thank you. I applaud ASTRO too (laughs)! Moonbin: The things we once set as our goals are being achieved one by one. I realise that rewards follow because we work hard and so I think positively. Now I’ve become greedy for goals at higher levels. We’ve even risen up to the honourable spot that is being nominated no.1 with 'Baby'. We’ll prepare even harder for the next album and try for that no.1.

10: What are ASTRO’s new dreams? Sanha: A CF model for a refreshing drink (everyone laughs)! We’ll show you our own kind of refreshingness!

10: You recently celebrated your 500th day since debut, how does it feel looking back at the moments that have passed you by? Rocky: We’ve really grown as compared to our debut song, 'HIDE&SEEK'. There are a lot of things to learn on site. We only worked hard during 'HIDE&SEEK' but we’ve lightened up ever so slightly now.

10: If there’s anything you think you need to improve on further? Eunwoo: I want to solidify ASTRO’s colour. So that when someone says ASTRO, reactions like "I can trust to watch them" and "I’m looking forward to them" will follow. I think we’re till lacking in that aspect. Moonbin: I also think we have to work on maintaining our stamina. Usually our schedules will get heavier when we reach the 2nd and 3rd week of promotions so it’s hard. I hope that all of us will work earnestly on maintaining our staminas so that we can sustain till the end the energy we had during the start of promotions.

10: You talked about your team’s colour but isn’t there a very fine line between keeping your identity and staying stagnant? Rocky: That’s why we worried a lot. ASTRO have only shown bright music and refreshing concepts up till now. You can think that we’ve only stuck to similar things. So I wondered about what else we could do. The conclusion I reached is that if we suddenly change then we might hear unfavourable reactions like, "What happened to ASTRO?" I want to keep ASTRO’s refreshing image and show how we’re slowly evolving as the members develop on their own skillsets. JinJin: We can’t just do 'refreshing' concepts until the end of time. We’re simply wearing the clothes that fit our age. We can become a group who is able to naturally wear clothes more masculine and more sexy than now and clothes of different colours. ASTRO is a team that still has a lot we want to do. Our anticipations are greater than our worries.

10: The youngest, Sanha, has reached an age (17 years old) where he’s eligible for an identification card. Sanha: Yes! I went to the district office to make one and they took my fingerprints. It was really fascinating (everyone laughs). JinJin: I first saw Sanha when he was in his 6th year of elementary school. He was smaller than me but now he’s become the tallest in our team. He had on braces and put blush on cheeks when we freshly debuted but… the member who’s changed the most in ASTRO is Sanha. (a proud smile) I’m thankful he’s grown up well.

10: Your labelmate, WekiMeki, will be making their debut on the coming 8th. You’ve gotten a junior so how does the youngest, Sanha, feel (laughs)? Sanha: (embarrassed) It’s kind of weird for me to be saying it myself but… I’m proud (laughs). I hope that WekiMeki will achieve good results and that they enjoy themselves all they can. Eunwoo: Sanha sunbae-nim has given his advice (everyone laughs)! Moonbin: They’ve all worked hard so I think they’ll do well. It’s important that a senior leads their juniors. I want for us to grow even more than now and become reliable seniors.

10: Eunwoo challenged his first drama through KBS2’s The Best Hit, how was it? Eunwoo: The excitement from performing and the elation I feel from acting are a little different. 'The Best Hit' was a production where there was a lot for me to learn on set. I had a ton of worries in the beginning. So I diligently practiced on my acting and prepared a lot. I think everyone looked over me fondly. I was able to discover yet another side of me. I grew confident and I want to greet the public through a different production.

10: What did the other members think of Eunwoo’s acting? Rocky: It was slightly hard (everyone laughs). I’m kidding. It was fascinating and fun how Eunwoo hyung, who was right next to me, was appearing on TV. I first started watching the drama thinking that I could tease Eunwoo hyung about it but I could tell how he was slowly getting immersed into his character so I started to enjoy the drama itself. MJ: The name of Eunwoo’s character in his drama was 'MJ' (laughs). His character was one who was snappish so I saw a different side to the Eunwoo I knew. I applaud him. Eunwoo: MJ hyung gave me a mission. He told me, "Work hard in your drama and promote MJ," (everyone laughs). Moonbin: So now if you search 'MJ' on portal sites, Eunwoo’s name also pops us (laughs).

10: MJ went on MBC every1’s Weekly Idol’s Masked Idol corner alone. You were selected as the first masked idol at that time. MJ: I actually wanted to reveal myself around the 2nd or 3rd episode but I won no.1 on the 1st episode for the corner so my identity was revealed (laughs). What I felt as I filmed for a variety program alone was that I should be more confident in myself. I’m the style who stays frozen in the first half because of my nerves and will only relax as time passes.

10: Moonbin was a child actor so do you have ay plans to act? Moonbin: I want to try it if the opportunity arises. I want to appear in KBS2’s School series. I’m turning twenty this year so I still have some greed in wanting to act as a high school student.

10: I heard that JinJin and Rocky have recently started to study song composition? JinJin: I studied up by myself since my trainee days. Rocky recently developed a greater greed for it so we talked about it to the company after our concert ended. We’ve been receiving lessons from a professional composer since a while ago. We’ll pick up even the little details and I hope that we can participate in ASTRO’s album later on.

10: What’s your music style like, the both of you? Rocky: We’re in the learning stages so I can’t specifically pin point anything but we’re sort of different. I recently became infatuated with G-Dragon sunbae-nim’s 'Untitled, 2014' so I’ve developed an interest for music with a slow tempo. JinJin: I’m the type to chase after trends. I was obsessed with the genre 'future bass' at one point but then fell for 'tropical house' when we were promoting 'Baby'. If I get addicted to a certain genre, I would find music from famous DJs or producers in that area and learn some more as I listen to them.

10: What’s the field that Sanha’s interested in? Sanha: I want to try becoming a radio DJ. Reading the stories from listeners and communicating with them is fun. I hope it’s for a program that’s from 8 to 10. I want to become a DJ who listens to his listeners’ concerns and comforts them well (laughs).

10: You held a tour in 4 Asian countries last February, what are your thoughts on your international popularity? Eunwoo: There are a lot of international fans when I look through the comments on ASTRO’s SNS. It’s hard meeting them. So I feel apologetic and it makes me think that I’ve to work harder. When we were on our Asia tour, the fans welcomed us really passionately and enthusiastically so I was thankful. It makes me wonder if it’s alright that we’re receiving this much love and it’s because of that that we gain strength.

10: Is there anything special you felt during your overseas performances? JinJin: The sound system when we held our showcase in Japan was goos so I was really shocked. And seeing as how the Japanese fans have a different culture of enjoying performances, that also felt new to us and it was fascinating. They would appreciate the moment whenever we sang and then enthusiastically cheer for us when the stage ended. Moonbin: Fans from Taiwan, Singapore and Hong Kong are contrastingly really passionate. Even at the slightest move of our body or hand, they like it. America and Mexico had 'hot' reactions too.

10: What are your goals for your overseas promotions? Moonbin: I want to hold a world tour. JinJin: I want to hold a Japan Dome tour too. Moonbin: My dream is for us to do even better and then stand on the Super Bowl stage.

10: What is ASTRO’s secret to receiving love from home and abroad? JinJin: There’s a certain kind of energy we exude when the members are all together. I often hear the words, "My mood gets lifted watching you guys," and I think that’s our strength. Moonbin: Our bright team atmosphere is thanks to MJ hyung. He always sets the mood. MJ: I’m more thankful to the other members. I was included in ASTRO the latest but they were next to me showing their support and it’s because they helped me that I was able to fit in. Rather than me creating the atmosphere, I think the rainbow called 'ASTRO' is formed because each of our personalities converge.

10: Are there times when you would share your concerns with each other? Rocky: I often talk about my worries regarding music when we practice. The more serious or embarrassing topics are reserved for our 'family meetings'. It’s a meeting we hold whenever we conclude a promotion cycle. We would eat together and have a heart to heart talk. Moonbin: We also talk about the things we were disappointed with. You’re bound to explode if you continue to keep things bottled up so we would talk things out now and then.

10: When can we expect ASTRO’s new album? JinJin: We want to put out one more album this year if possible. Our goal is to become no.1 singers when that happens (smiles).

Source: http://entertain.naver.com/read?oid=312&aid=0000273532

Translations by @99pmh Take out with full credits

#MJ #Myungjun #JinJin #Jinwoo #Eunwoo #Dongmin #Moonbin #Rocky #Minhyuk #Sanha #ASTRO

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illustrationstudiopractiseii · 5 years

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EVENING POST, VOLUME CXXIII, ISSUE 40, 17 FEBRUARY 1937

MRS. AVES FREED

STAY OF PROCEEDINGS

FOURTH JURY DISAGREES

COMMENTS BY CHIEF

JUSTICE

The failure of the fourth jury to reach a verdict after hearing the trial of Mrs. Isabel Annie Ayes, alias Craike, of Hastings;, oh Seven charges of using an instrument with intent to procure | a miscarriage, has resulted in the Solicitor-General (Mr. H. H. Cornish, K.C.) deciding to file a stay of proceedings. Before discharging the jury and the accused late yesterday afternoon the Chief 'justice (Sir Michael Myers) : commented on various phases of the case, because, he said,' there were aspects which he considered worthy: of the serious . attention of those in' authority. 'He also warned Mrs. Ayes on the future conduct of her household. Mr. H. B. Lusk, Napier Crown Prosecutor, had conducted the prosecution, and Mr. C. G. E. Harker had appeared for the accused. , The jury, which retired at 12.50 p.m., returned just before 5 o'clock, and the foreman told the Eegistrar that an agreement could .not be reached. His Honour: Well, Mr. Foreman, is there any matter, do you think, upon which I can be of any assistance to you? The foreman: The jury doesn't seem to think so. . His Honour: I don't want to know how you were divided. The foreman: The instructions and summing-up were clear enough. Everything was clear enough, but we can't agree:-. \ ■ = His Honour: Do you think it is of any use my keeping you together a little longer? ■''.'■'" The foreman: No use whatever. His Honour: Well, Mr. Lusk, I shall/: of course, have to discharge the jury. Mr. Lusk: I have the authority of the • Solicitor-General that a stay of proceedings will be filed. His Honour: Prisoner at the bar, if the jury in this case had returned a verdict of not guilty, I would have accepted their verdict loyally and without question, even though I may have thought that it was wrong. "The jury, however, have not agreed, and the Crown, it is now stated, proposes to file a stay of proceedings," continued his Honour. "In the circumstances I feel justified in addressing just a few words to you. Not only was there in this case evidence given by five different women alleging that you had procured their miscarriages by the use of these instruments . . . two of the women alleging that they were twice operated upon, but there was evidence which is indisputed arid indisputable that during a period of from eighteen to twenty months you purchased no fewer than twenty dozen —that is, 240 —of these instruments, which the medical evidence says cannot be imagined of use in the hands.of a private person for other than an illegal purpose. There was also evidence that during that same period of eighteen months you had received from no fewer than 183 persons, in varying sums, an aggregate of £2232 10s, that proof coming from your own books." „ ' ,l- ; . ■■•. There was also evidence, ' said his Honour, that the baeik ( part of the accused's section - was;'impregnated with human- foetal remains, the development of which prohibited their, disposal by another method. "Well, upon thai evidence the Crown submitted that a nefarious and criminal business must have been going on in your house for a period of eighteen months or more. The, jury, apparently, found some difficulty and have not been able to; agree upon the question; presumably," as to whether you were the actual person who committed these offences. .1 don't know, of course, whether or not that is the precise | question on which the jury differed. "All I can say is-this, that I should recommend you to see .that your household in future is not carried on in such a way by anyone as that you may be brought before the Court again on a charge:of this kind; because, if you are, you may not be so fortunate, as you are on this occasion."

His Honour discharged the jury and Mrs. Ayes, and added: "I venture to make . thos^e observations .because there are various aspects of this case which, in my view,-are" worthy of the serious attention of those who guide the destiny of this young country."

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/EP19370217.2.54

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gospelmusic · 4 years

Link

Mercy Chinwo - Bor Ekom [Audio, Lyrics, Video] Download Mp3

Talented Nigerian based gospel singer, Mercy Chinwo is out with this traditional gospel track titled Bor Ekom. The track which happens to be one of the solemn and trending tracks from the artiste is the first track in which Mercy Chinwo used the South South language, her mother tongue.

Mercy Chinwo came out with another categorically powerful track with the same language in her Sophomore album titled "Udeme".

As powerful as the new track is, Mercy Chinwo was set to make a statement with this song.

Even if you can't understand the language, you will definitely enjoy the vibes enshrined in "Bor Ekom"

Download Mp3 of the song below, and be blessed

DOWNLOAD MP3

Lyrics for Bor Ekom By Mercy Chinwo

Original Untranslated Lyrics

[Chorus] Sia fo mu tieghe ntewo o Sia fo mu tieghe ntewo o Bor ekom do o Ayanga owo ke mfon Bor ekom do o Ukpono eyene fi Bor ekom do o Ayanga owo ke mfon Bor ekom do o Ukpono eyene fi Ekwo Sia fo mu tieghe nte owo o Sia fo mu tieghe nte owo o Bor ekom do o Ayanga owo ke mfon Bor ekom do o Ukpono eyene fi Bor ekom do o Ayanga owo ke mfon Bor ekom do o Ukpono eyene fi

Ekwo Sia fo mu tieghe nte owo o Sia fo mu tieghe nte owo o Bor ekom do o Ayanga owo ke mfon Bor ekom do o Ukpono eyene fi Bor ekom do o Ayanga owo ke mfon Bor ekom do o Ukpono eyene fi

[Verse] Edidem me didem Bor ekom Ete usen naneyen bor ekom Ibaha owo si ntie nta fo Ukpono eyene fi o Ibaha owo si ntie nta fo Akara eyon ye esun Ibaha owo si ntie nta fo Ekamba Abasi Ibaha owo si ntie nta fo

Sia fo mu tieghe nte owo o Sia fo mu tieghe nte owo o Bor ekom do o Ayanga owo ke mfon Bor ekom do o Ukpono eyene fi Bor ekom do o Ayanga owo ke mfon Bor ekom do o Ukpono eyene fi

Oh dah de de Pa di dah di di Pa pa pa pa dah da da di di di Pa di dah di di di Pa pa pa da do do do Pa pa pa bu pa pi di di Bu di pa pa di di bu Dah dah di Pa di dah bu pa pa pa Bor ekom do o Ayanga owo ke mfon Bor ekom do o Ugboro eyene fi

Sia fo mu tieghe ntewo o Sia fo mu tieghe ntewo o Bor ekom do o Ayanga owo ke mfon Bor ekom do o Ukpono eyene fi Bor ekom do o Ayanga owo ke mfon Bor ekom do o Ukpono eyene fi

Edidem me didem Bor ekom Uko ke kong o Bor ekom Bor ekom do ooooo Ayanga owo ke mfon Bor ekom do o Ukpono eyene fi Aye ye Aye ye Aya ya Aya ya Adododo Adododo Adedede Adedede Aye ye Aye ye Aya ya Aya ya Adododo Adodo Adedede Adede Bor ekom do o Ayanga owo ke mfon Bor ekom do o Ukpono eyene fi Uko ke kong Uko uko uko Aye ye Aye ye Aya ya Aya ya Adododo Adododo Adedede Adedede Aye ye Aye ye Aya ya Aya ya Adododo Adodo Adedede Adede Oooh Bor ekom do Oooh Bor ekom do Oooh Bor ekom do Oooh Bor ekom do Bor ekom do o Ete usen naneyen Jesus Bor ekom do

Translated Lyrics: Bor Ekom Lyrics in English

ooh oooh oooh oooh Since you are not like a person o Since you are not like a person o Receive thanks o He that helps people for free Receive thanks o Honour belongs to you Receive thanks o He that helps people for free Receive thanks o Honour belongs to you Since you are not like a person o Since you are not like a person o Receive thanks o He that helps people for free Receive thanks ooo Receive thanks ooo Jesus, receive thanks o He that helps people for free Receive thanks o Honour belongs to you Sing Since you are not like a person o Since you are not like a person o Receive thanks o He that helps people for free Receive thanks o Honour belongs to you Receive thanks o He that helps people for free Receive thanks o Honour belongs to you The King of kings Receive thanks Father in helpless situation Receive thanks Oh! There is no one like you Honour belongs to you There is no one like you The Ruler of Heaven and Earth There is no one like you Almighty God There is no one like you Since you are not like a person o Since you are not like a person o Receive thanks o He that helps people for free Receive thanks o Honour belongs to you Receive thanks o He that helps people for free Receive thanks o Honour belongs to you

Bor Ekom Video

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IBM P2070-072 Test Preparation Materials

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Two ‘expeditions’ of my own in recent weeks have taken me out of the unbearabe heat of an unusually searing summer sun into the cool, air-conditioned enclaves of, first London’s National Portrait Gallery and secondly, Greenwich’s National Maritime Museum.

The Portraits

In the Victorian Gallery of the Portrait Gallery, among many representations of influential men and women of that era, I discovered the following remarkably similar portraits by Stephen Pearce (1819-1904): the one on the left is of Sir Robert McClure R.N. (1807-1873); the one on the right is of Sir Francis Leopold McClintock R.N. (1819-1907).

McClure

McClintock

McClure joined the Royal Navy in 1824, made his first Arctic voyage in 1836-37, and played a prominent role in the search for the lost Franklin expedition of 1845. He was rewarded by Parliament for being the first to traverse the elusive and much sort after North West Passage – albeit he did so partly on foot – in 1854, and survived a Court Martial for abandoning his ships to serve in China and ultimately be promoted to Vice-Admiral in 1873.

McClintock joined the Royal Navy in 1831 and made his first Arctic voyage in 1848, just as concerns for the fate of the 1845 expedition were beginning to be raised. He commanded the 1857-59 expedition that discovered the Victory Point Record, among other relics and artefacts, that eventually proved the loss of Franklin and his entire crew of 129 men. Knighted in 1860, McClintock continued to command Royal Navy voyages until his retirement in 1884.

Also of interest in relation to this project, are these plaster medallions – created by Bernard Smith (1820-1885) – of (on the left) Sir John Richardson R.N. (1787-1865) and (on the right) Sir James Clark Ross R.N. (1800-1862).

Richardson had accompanied Sir John Franklin on two Arctic voyages, in 1819 and 1825, and in 1847 he led the first of the expeditions sent in search of the misssing 1845 expedition. Richardson also wrote a magnificent biographical entry on Franklin for the eighth volume of Encyclopaedia Britannica, published in February 1856, and it was reading this tribute that inspired Charles Dickens to say (in a letter to John Forster, dated March 1856)

I think Richardson’s manly friendship and love of Franklin, one of the noblest things I ever knew in my life. It makes ones heart beat high, with a sort of sacred joy.

(Dickens (vol 8), 1993, p. 66)

Dickens drew on this ‘manly friendship and love’ to develop the characters of Richard Wardour and Frank Aldersley when working with Wilkie Collins on their Arctic drama The Frozen Deep (see Brannon, 1966) and subsequently when creating the character of Sydney Carton in A Tale of Two Cities.

But I digress onto a pet subject! Sir James Clark Ross R.N. – represented by the right-hand medallion above – is credited with discovering Magnetic North in 1831, commanded an expedition to the Antarctic in 1839-43, and led an Arctic expedition in search of Franklin in 1848-49. His uncle, John Ross, was also an Arctic explorer but fell out of favour with the Admiralty after turning-back on an expedition because he had seen a ‘mountain range’ that it later transpired was an hallucination caused by weather conditions.

This portrait of Sir Edwin Landseer also caught my eye, especially as I had just had lunch in Trafalgar Square watching a group of young Italian tourists clambering all over the finished lions. Here they are shown alongside their designer and creator in his workshop. Landseer, of course, was renowned from an early age for his represenations of wildlife and animals, among which is his only Arctic painting ‘Man Proposes, God Disposes’, which I featured in my first blog post in November 2017.

The Songs

At the National Maritime Museum, at an event organised in partnership with another of my favourite institutions The English Folk Dance and Song Society, I discovered a little of the history and lyrics of songs associated with Dr. John Rae, the Orkney-born Arctic explorer and Hudson’s Bay Company Factor who caused outrage in mid-century Victorian England by implying that the men of the lost Franklin expedition may have resorted to cannibalism. He had strong evidence to prove this, and science has more recently confirmed his findings, but he was derided and disbelieved in his own time and denied the honours and recognition that he deserved – again I digress to a favourite pet subject, and shall post more about this I suspect during, and/or following, my visit to Rae’s homeland in October this year.

As for the songs, there was one I was already familiar with as it is still sung regularly in Folk Clubs and at other traditional music sessions around the UK today. Called Lady Franklin’s Lament it has, like most songs that have been passed down through the oral folk tradition, many different versions of varying length. Waltz and Engle, writing in 2015, state that “Broadside versions [of this ballad] probably date from the period 1850-1853”.

The version we learnt at the workshop was entitled Lady Franklin’s Lament for her Husband. Longer than the commonly sung, more recent, versions it was sourced through both the Glasgow and Edinburgh Broadside Ballad Collections by the workshop’s co-ordinator, Orkney folk singer Aimee Leonard. In common with all versions, however, it tells the tale of a sailor dreaming that he’s heard “a female” who “can take no rest” weeping aloud that

Ten thousand pounds would I freely give, To say on earth that my husband do live.

The female is, of course, Franklin’s wife, Jane, who did offer rewards of £2000 and £3000 in March 1848 and March 1849 respectively, but not of as much as £10,000; maybe there is some poetic licence here. Nevertheless, Lady Franklin’s rewards were no doubt an incentive that preyed on the mind of many a poor sailor searching the Arctic seas for the lost expedition, and their exaggeration of the amount – or their conflation of it with larger rewards offered by the Government – is understandable.

The second song, Lament for Francis Crozier, was written in 2001 by Irish singer, mountaineer and polar explorer Frank Nugent whilst sailing near King William Island in a ship called the Northabout. Francis Crozier had met, and fallen in love with, Franklin’s wife’s niece, Sophia Cracroft, when his ships called at Van Diemen’s Land (VDL; renamed Tasmania in 1856) during a voyage to Antarctica in the 1830s. Franklin was then Governer of VDL and entertained the Officers of the ships on which Crozier was serving – coincidentally, these were the same two ships, The Erebus and The Terror, on which Franklin sailed to the Arctic in 1845 with Crozier as his second-in-command. Crozier saw this voyage as his great chance to impress Sophia and thus win her heart, and her hand in marriage. Sadly, as we know, this was not to be, and indeed it is likely that it never could have been. Instead, Crozier was forced to take command of the expedition when Franklin died in 1847 (we know this because of the Victory Point Record I mentioned earlier) and he himself perished, we know not how, along with all the men under his command. As the song concludes:

Oh, what hardship and pain, did your poor seamen suffer … … you starved on the banks of Back’s Great Fish River The [North West] Passage it led you to heaven’s green shore.

Song 3 came from a collection of Songs of the North printed on board HMS Assistance during her 1850-51 expedition in search of Franklin. One of the ways in which crews entertained themselves during long lingering months stuck amid Arctic ice was to put on theatre shows and HMS Assistance was, at this time, home to The Royal Arctic Theatre – just as their compatriots aboard HMS Resolute in 1850-51 were home to the periodical newspaper The Illustrated Arctic News, a parody of London’s Illustrated London News, established in 1842.

Song 3, then, was sung at the closing of The Royal Arctic Theatre on 4th March 1851 by Lieutenant R.D.Aldrich R.N. and it opens with a plea to:

Come cheer up my lads! the season draws near When all wish to strive, nor care where they steer, …

whilst its chorus avows that:

Our hearts are all stout, and our motto shall be, Ready! aye ready! Ready! aye ready! To rescue our comrades from dire misery.

Dire misery indeed! But admirable sentiments with which to reinvigorate cold, hungry men suffering a multitude of minor ailments after a winter stuck in Arctic ice that was now abating and allowing their ships to move on.

Conclusions

These songs and portraits tell us much of the character and spirit of the men who ventured, literally, to the ends of the earth in order to advance geographic and scientific knowledge. They represent in words and pictures the images that their subjects and masters wanted the public to hear and see; images of men who could conquer the bleak wilderness of the Arctic and remain true to the gentlemanly ideals of the British establishment; images a nation’s ability to withstand everything the world could throw at it; images, ultimately, of arrogance and intransigence in the face of all circumstance.

Works Cited

Brannan, Robert Louis, Under the Management of Mr Charles Dickens: His production of The Frozen Deep. New York: Cornell University Press, 1966

Dickens (vol 8), Charles, The Letters of Charles Dickens; Volume 8. 1856-1858, Pilgrim Edition. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1993.

Waltz, R. B., & Engle, D. G. (2015). Lady Franklin’s Lament (The Sailor’s Dream) [Laws K9] – part 01. Retrieved May 28, 2016, from http://www.csufresno.edu/folklore/ballads/LK09.html

Songs and Portraits Two 'expeditions' of my own in recent weeks have taken me out of the unbearabe heat of an unusually searing summer sun into the cool, air-conditioned enclaves of, first London's…

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Pride Month 2017: LGBTQ Fashion & Beauty In Style

LGBTQ Owned Brands You Need To Know

We all know the amazing gay men that have really shaped the fashion industry over the years, by building these high-end brands for us. Women’s fashion has been taken to a whole new level because of them and we don’t know what the fashion industry would be like without them. But we all know a lot about them right? What you might not know are the small super cool designers killing it with their gender-bending clothing lines. You should check them out, especially during this time where we are celebrating pride month. Some of the LGBTQ owned brands are really worth checking out.

Chromat

An American Fashion Label based in New York City was built by Becca McCharen in 2010. Fashion can help move the society forward and this is what this brand has done. Chromat is known for its innovative structural and angular clothing. They have also become very famous for its black clothing that features designs based on the structure of the human body. Becca McCharen is part of the LGBTQ community and has experiences discrimination. She says that her clothing is just like her being ‘queer’! Her experiences and trials had formed her brand into what it is today. She makes sure her campaigns and models involve a range of different people from helping women, people of color and people of different sexual orientations. She wants to be able to break into the traditionally male-dominated fashion industry. Last year we saw this upcoming trend of inner wear becoming outerwear and this is what her brand represents as well. She is breaking all the boundaries of what should be worn where.

This pride month she says : “As fashion designers, we have the power to highlight and celebrate beauty in all different forms. Every fashion week is an opportunity to celebrate those inspirational people and have these incredible women and non-binary babes reflected in our runway show. It’s not a trend—it’s our life.”

Ready To Stare

Ready to Stare is a body positive apparel and accessory brand and personal style blog that was started By Alysse Dalessandro. Both the brand and the blog are designed for those who believe in following their passion, loving themselves and inspiring others to do the same. The brand is specifically oriented towards plus size females. Her aim was to create a brand for the people who were getting left out of the mainstream fashion lines.

Dallesandro says “I wanted to create a haven for those who get stared at because they’re different and who choose, instead of hiding, to stare back and keep shining,”

You must check out her “Thank You For Staring” look book, which is explicitly LGBTQ+ and size inclusive.

Play out

Play out believes in: BE OUT. PLAY IN STYLE. A queer owned fashion brand specifically designs gender-neutral underwear that is colourful, bold, playful and bursting with energy. The founder and designer of play out Abby Sugar says: “As a queer-owned brand, we knew that we wanted to create something for our LGBTQIA family, but also embody and proudly display who we are to the rest of the [heterosexual, binary-gendered] world.” Their brand is lesbian-inspired, gender-inclusive, free, sexy, and fun for women, men and people of all gender identifications. As they have grown their brand, Play Out have worked with men, women, trans- and gender-free individuals of all backgrounds, ethnicity, gender presentations and sexual orientations.

Tyler Wallach Studios

Tyler Wallach is such an inspiration, he is a creative and independent queer artist from Harlem, NY. He is well known for his bright and bold coloured street-art characters on both canvas and clothing. The brand brings out the best bold bright graphics to their clothing which features street characters and unisex designs that can be worn by people of gender. His compassion, love and care towards the LGBTQ community keeps him inspired to be the artist he is. He produces large-scale paintings every year that are donated and auctioned off by national LGBTQ charities with 100% of proceeds going to at-risk youth and anti-bullying efforts.

Tyler Wallach Studio is taking over the fashion game! Check out his vibrant and rebellion designs against the status quo!

Rebirth Garments

Rebirth Garments are designed and made by hand by Sky Cuba-cub, a QPOC (Gender queer Person of Color) from Chicago. Every garment is customised and all their brand campaigns feature models of all sizes and genders doing all sorts of splits and fun stuff in wheelchairs with oxygen masks. They are inclusive and representative in their imaginary and garment customization. The aim for the brand is to be able to give products accessible to queer crip youth along with being able to provide free/reduced priced garments for people in need. They believe Rebirth Garments has the power to give you the confidence and strength to feel comfortable in your first skin.

Through the collection, people can confidently express their individuality and identity. This identity according to the brand is that of Queer Crip, meaning queer, gender non-conforming identities, visible and invisible disabilities/ disorders—physical, mental, developmental, emotional etc.

10 Fashion Brands That Are Giving Back To The LGBT Community

Around this time of the year as soon as we hit the month of June we see brands embracing the rainbow like never before. They all find their own unique and stylish ways to honour the start of pride month by releasing collections or limited edition products sporting the pride flag colors. As we mentioned before this is the time when these brands donate the proceeds to LGBTQ charities and organisations. We have put together the top 10 brands who have come out with the most beautiful products in support of LGBTQ people for Pride. Pride branding has really come a long way as the new generation has done so many things to make a difference. We see more brands than ever now using models of color and trans models to promote their brands, rather than going for big celebrities. Check out our favourite picks from this month:

Nike

Nike’s journey of supporting the LGBTQ community began in 2012 with their #BeTrue Collection in the wake of its marriage equality campaign. Ever since then Nike has provided approximately $2.5 million for financial and in-kind support for LGBT causes. They come out with the most amazing limited edition kicks and rainbow spins on some of their most popular shoes. They have taken a bold step with their #BeTrue2017 Collection where they suggest that rainbows are not the only gay symbol. They have paired it along with other symbols of Pride, such as the color pink and the triangle.

“Sporting your rainbow in the gym or on a run became a way to feel like you belonged to something larger – you were connected to being ‘out’ or being an ally. The rainbow has and always will be incorporated into the BETRUE product in some way.” – Robert Goman, LBGT Network Leader at Nike

Dr. Martins

We love what they are doing! Dr. Martins is donating $5 from every $145 pair of 1460 Pride Boots to the Trevor Project. This is a suicide hotline for LGBTQ youth. They are also going to be hosting Pride events all summer long to create a huge amount of awareness and give the LGBTQ community all the support they deserve. This funky colorful boots are totally taking us back to the 90`s. The shoe brand is associated with punk rock and these boots come with a message. On one boot there are words written across it such as LGBT+, LOVE and UNITY On the other boot it has a rainbow pattern all over and both the boots come with bright rainbow laces.

American Eagle

American Eagle are really doing their part this year by donating 100% of the sales of its 2017 Pride Collection to benefit the It Gets Better project. Their collection for pride month includes t-shirts, boxer-briefs, boy briefs, a rainbow beaded choker and a hat. They have a campaign called #WeAllCan which was started to remind everyone that they can be anything and do everything they want. This collection has been rolled into this campaign as it fits the message perfectly.

Everlane

Out of all the brands, we have listed Everlane is one of the companies that it truly committed to ethical production practices. They began their 100% Hymen campaign in January where they started giving $5 of each purchase to the ACLU. Later as International Women’s Day came they came out be millennial pink shirts where the profits went to women’s rights organisation. Now for pride month, their complete focus was on PRIDE with 100% Human rainbow shirts.

The campaign declares “Gay. Bi, Lesbian. Queer. Trans. Non-Binary”. Whoever you love, however, you identify, we’re all 100% Human.

Gap inc.

The most famous Pride lines are rainbows, love is love and love wins. Gap Inc. came out with colorful rainbow t-shirts with these lines along with being paired with their brand logo. 30% of Gap’s Pride T-shirt net sales and $2 from every Pride-themed eGiftCard will go to the UN Free & Equal organization. For pride month Gap inc. released a corporate video in order to encourage their employees #weartheirpride.

Levi`s

Levi’s approach to the pride month merchandise is a little different than the others. They believe in going beyond just slapping on rainbows on t-shirts. They came out with black and white tanks and tees that have Fight Stigma written across them. The Fight Stigma initiative and product line is inspired by 80`s HIV awareness efforts. Levi’s Pride collection this year is utterly thorough, with jeans, shirts, pins, bandannas, socks and underwear.

100% of proceeds will be donated to the Harvey Milk Foundation and Stonewall Community Foundation.

Urban Outfitters

We love how fun and refreshingly the Pride fashion line is from Urban Outfitters. They designed the #UOPride line in partnership with hip-hop artist Taylor Bennett where all the profits are going to GLSEN. GLSEN is a non-profit organisation dedicated to improving the school experience for LGBTQ youth. The designs as we said are very fun and bubbly. The collections for pride month is full of soft pastel colours with rainbows and statements like love is love. This year, the merchandise was shown off on a mix of young LGBTQ creatives, like dancer Harper Waters, model Torraine Futurum, activist Tyler Ford and musician Taylor Bennett.

Meundies

MeUndies are donating $1 from every pair of Pride underwear sold to the Los Angeles LGBT Center. We find their colourful polka dot underwear super cute along with being one of the most stunning campaigns for pride month. Their campaign involves a range of diverse and refreshingly female-focused line-up of human beings. Their “celebrate yourself” campaign and video series is about “feeling proud from the inside out.”

Converse

Converse have gone all out with not 1 but 37 different shoe designs on its Chuck Taylor’s and they are all pretty amazing. A part of the line is 70’s inspired and others include rainbow-soled high-tops and low-tops. They have patterns of all sorts from gradients, flags, spots, lines and stars. The name of their campaign is #YesToAll where this encourages people to feel free to be who they are. Net proceeds will go towards the It Gets Better Project and Miley Cyrus’s Happy Hippie Foundation.

Gucci

Gucci pays tribute to classic Elton John with this fantastic footwear for pride month this year. These platform sneakers are really giving a strong fashion statement. Along with these platforms they also came out with leather high-top sneakers and a pride print t-shirt.

Beauty Brands That Are Giving Back To The LGBT Community

We have discussed and seen how fashion brands have shown their support during Pride month this year but the beauty companies are no exception. We heard of companies giving out free products to the LGBTQ youth on every purchase along with others trying to raise a huge amount of money for organisations that support them. The true essence of Pride Month is giving the LGBTQ community a chance to freely express themselves. We saw the rainbows on the clothes, shoes and accessories it’s now time to see some fun colourful beauty products. You should really feel proud to own some of these products in your beauty kits.

We also came across several Pride-themed makeup looks everywhere on social media throughout the month, so people were either celebrating and supporting by buying some of these beauty products or creating vibrant colourful looks.

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