#invaders 1975
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Toro's Powers/Inhuman Part 2
alright, last post (here) talked about the powers themselves and how they work with Toro as a character. So what about his relationships, and his place in the team/teams? (another long one) also, his backstory a little bit bc i just want to talk about toro. this isn't english class, i don't need structure lol (much heavier on headcanons)
Let's start with the obvious. Jim. Jim could probably give less of a fuck what toro "is", because he is Toro and he is Jim's son and that's enough. the new powers, i can see that creating some internal angst for jim at first bc toro having the same powers as him kinda reassured him of his own humanity and their similar powers were the first building block in their relationship. but once jim escapes the evil anxiety spiral and remembers Toro isn't going anywhere, he's incredibly supportive. (we see a glimpse of this in canon, where he supports Toro's choice in going to Atalian. the new powers still catch him off guard sometimes, but he's also secretly glad bc it means Toro isn't constantly comparing himself to Jim anymore, and it boosts Toro's self-confidence. (srsly, re-reading this stuff now that i'm not an angsty middle schooler, my boy needs several hugs and therapy. he makes blatantly suicidal comments both in the Torch and Invaders Now, not to mention several times in earlier comics where he makes self-deprecating comments comparing himself to Jim.)
Next up, Nora and Fred Raymond. Betcha didn't see that one coming! Obviously learning you're an entirely different species is going to re-contextualize some shit about your parents, but not necessarily in the way you'd expect. See, Toro's parents were both brilliant chemists (or otherwise chemistry adjacent scientists. the details of how the fuck horton cells work is sketchy at best). Toro never got to know them well, both because of a number of things they were keeping from him and how young he was when they died. Toro himself says he never knew much about his mother when she's brought up in The Torch, and a part of his motivation is specifically to find out more about his parents. Because his new powers are heavily reliant on chemistry, he'll probably be doing a lot of research in that area, which in a way brings him a little closer to his parents.
Iron Cross (the Clare Grueller incarnation) is a character Toro literally would not have met without being an inhuman. Sadly we don't get to see much of them interacting besides mutually telling inhuman eugenics guy to fuck off and/or fight them (a great basis for a friendship if you ask me) Here we enter head canon territory. I personally think it would be really cool if Toro and Clare continued to have a relationship, bonding over inhuman stuff/invaders bagage/generally wanting to make the world a better place without ending up in the news. Maybe Toro helps Clare cope with the implications of becoming one with her suit (he's got a lot of experience with cyborgs androids and the like) and maybe she builds him a computer to integrate into his suit that helps him identify unfamiliar chemicals on the fly, or that can show him how to make specific chemicals (like the human-atlantean switch stuff).
Namor. Oh boy. Um, Namor is complicated. As a mutant he's kind of expected to have some thoughts on the inhuman business, and while it seems like he does in the invaders part of the hydra supreme mess, this isn't necessarily the case. (I'm totally writing a fic on this scene later, but he's faking it to try to get toro to leave/distance himself from toro so he can act like he doesn't care) meanwhile, when it's first revealed Namor's actually pretty chill abt it. So may or may not be a factor, more likely to be a problem if Toro's working with/for/ int the interest of other Inhumans, or trying to mediate between Namor and Blackbolt or something.
Anyway, Namor knows what it's like to be something different than you thought, and even something that doesn't really exist outside of you (toro is inhuman, but he's also a hortanesc cyberg a-la-spitfire, and maybe still a mutant- i'll get back to that later) I think much like Jim Namor is very caught off guard by the new powers. Underneath everything, I think he's still tempted to see toro as a little kid, a painfully vulnerable surface dweller who took a bullet to the chest in berlin (bucky's whole 'that could never be you in there so you don't understand' speech really hit a nerve i think) Oh, and Namor also WATCHED TORO DIE after toro PURPOSEFULLY PUT HIMSELF IN DANGER TO SAVE NAMOR. so yeah, no matter how powerful toro gets, no matter how smartly he uses his power, i think namor has a really hard time seeing toro as anything other than vulnerable. Which brings us to the real hard pill to swallow-
Toro can kick Namor's ass now. At least, if he has the drop. Toro can dehydrate him. Toro can manifest vibranium or other super strong metals that can actually leave a mark on Namor. This is a factor with all the invaders, in that toro has all sorts of new tools at his disposal that can make them miserable, but Namor's the one he's (historically) most likely to come to blows with.
And one final point with Namor (godsdamn, you'd think this post was about him) as i mentioned he sees Toro as vulnerable, perhaps more so than even Jim. And this is important. This is good. Toro needs people looking out for and protecting him, even if he's a lot more powerful now.
Alright moving right along hey look it's Bucky. So, unsurprisingly, powers were never that big in bucky and toro's relationship. And power escalation hit them both, only in different ways, so the power imbalance really feels like it's in Bucky's favour if anyone's at this point. The only real effect I can see this having is if Toro gets sucked into some inhuman/Kree/space thingy that involves Bucky as the Man on the Wall (is that even a thing anymore? I feel like I haven't heard about it in a while but i haven't really kept up with Captain America comics lately) Anyways it could be interesting to see these too in that context. See them have a moral debate. How do they handle conflicting duty. How much chaos can they get into on an enemy starship? the possibilities are very fun
Steve. okay, i could write a whole post about Steve and Toro's relationship and how they're foils/reflections of each other. But that's not what we're here for. There are two major points that define Toro and Steve in this context (and tbh most of their on screen interaction give me more marvel pls) 1. Toro's in humanification and 2. Hydra Cap. Starting off with the safer option, Steve was the first person Toro interacted with as an inhuman. Steve was there when Toro first came out of the cocoon, he's the one who explained everything to Toro and probably the one who got to here unadulterated fears/emotions about it. and given toro's history of being used as a lab rat/weapon/both, i'm betting some things came out. maybe some things other people don't know, which puts Steve very suddenly in a position to become Toro's confident. Someone he can trust and lean on with the stuff he'll never mention around the others. Which makes point 2 hurt even harder.
Even though hydra steve and real steve are different people, even though the steve we have now has tried very hard to make up for his evil clone's actions (oversimplification but whatever). It was still steve's face, and steve's voice, and the damage was still done. Toro, who had confided his deepest darkest fears in Steve, got to hear someone who was for all intents and purposes Steve say publicly that inhumans were so dangerous that they absolutely had to be locked away, with no nuance, no consideration. OUCH.
Toro's also in a tricky spot here, bc thanks to our dear friends Mad Thinker and nebulus soviet scientists (probably dept X) Toro knows first hand what it's like to be forced by forces out of your control to be something or someone else. He knows what it's like to come back from that and face the consequences for actions that both were and weren't his. He feels for Steve, but that doesn't mean he can just let it go.
As far as Steve goes, i think it's just really, really awkward now. He's very clearly still trying to heal the damage as recently as Invaders (2019). He's painfully aware that Toro is an inhuman and was thus very personally wronged by Hydra Steve, even if he isn't aware how far down that broken trust goes. He's spent years mending bridges with friend foe and stranger a like. But toro never mentions it, it's just floating there between them.
Toro was one of the first "mutant" super heroes. I know there are plenty of theories out there about what extent he expired/was related to magneto, prof X, and all the mutant stuff going down in the 60s. Him actually being an inhuman is definitely going to shake things up there, and it complicates the whole Inhumans v. Mutants angle. Could be very interesting both on general and personal levels.
#toro raymond#thomas raymond#invaders#insomnia invaders thoughts#invaders 2019#invaders 1975#invaders now#the torch miniseries#jim hammond#namor the sub mariner#bucky barnes#steve rogers#nora and fred raymond#Clare Grueller/Iron Cross 2
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I love when the Human Torches are drawn without facial features. No face, just fire.
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Note: Reasons to Be Cheerful has had weirdly huge formatting issues for the past six or so months, so if that version is a mess, this link should work better.
"Florida Power & Light Company (FPL), the Sunshine State’s largest power utility, employs all the people you might expect: electricians, lineworkers, mechanical engineers — and a few you might not. For over 40 years, the company has kept a team of wildlife biologists on staff. Their task? Monitoring the giant carnivorous reptiles that reside in one of the state’s nuclear power plants.
Saving the American Crocodile
What sounds like a low-budget creature feature is actually a wildly successful conservation story. It goes like this: In 1975, the shy and reclusive American crocodile was facing extinction. Over-hunting and habitat decline caused by encroaching development had pushed its numbers to a record low. By 1975, when it was listed as endangered under the Endangered Species Act, there were only 200 to 300 left.
Three years later, in 1978, workers at the Turkey Point nuclear power plant in Homestead, Florida happened upon something that must have made them gasp: a crocodile nest along one of the plant’s 5,900-acre “cooling canals.” Rather than drive the crocs away — perhaps the easiest solution — FPL hired a team of biologists and implemented a Crocodile Management Plan. Its goal was unconventional: provide a suitable habitat for the crocs within the workings of the nuclear power plant, allowing both to coexist.
Over the course of the next 30 years, FPL’s wildlife biologists monitored nests, tagged hatchlings and generally created a hospitable environment for the reptiles. As it turned out, the plant’s cooling canals provided an ideal habitat: drained earth that never floods on which to lay eggs directly adjacent to water. Over the years, more and more crocs made the cooling canals home. By 1985, the nests at Turkey Point were responsible for 10 percent of American crocodile hatchlings in South Florida. In 2007, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service downgraded the American crocodile’s status from endangered to threatened, singling out FPL for its efforts.
The program continues to this day. To date, biologists have tagged some 7,000 babies born at the plant. In 2021, there were a record-setting 565 crocodile hatchlings at the Turkey Point facility.
"Reconciliation Ecology"
Turkey Point’s efforts are an example of what is known in the conservation world as “reconciliation ecology.” Rather than create separate areas where nature or animals can thrive in isolation from humans, reconciliation ecology suggests that we can blend the rich natural world with the world of human activity. Michael Rosenzweig, an emeritus professor of ecology and evolutionary biology at the University of Arizona, was a leading force in establishing this concept. The author of Win-Win Ecology: How the Earth’s Species can Survive in the Midst of Human Enterprise, Rosenzweig has pointed out that although human encroachment has typically been considered a threat to biodiversity, the notion that the world must be either “holy” or “profane,” ecologically speaking, is simply not true.
“In addition to its primary value as a conservation tool, reconciliation ecology offers a valuable social byproduct,” writes Rosenzweig in his first chapter. “It promises to reduce the endless bickering and legal wrangling that characterize environmental issues today.”
-via Reasons to Be Cheerful, May 5, 2022. Article continues below. All headings added by me for added readability.
Dr. Madhusudan Katti, an associate professor in the Department of Forestry and Environmental Resources at North Carolina State University, was inspired by Rosenzweig when he did his postdoc at Arizona State. Katti has now been in the field of reconciliation ecology for two decades and teaches classes on the subject. “To me it’s finding solutions to reconciling human development with biodiversity conservation,” Katti says.
This common ground between development and conservation can be consciously planned, like FPL managing a crocodile habitat at a nuclear power plant or the state-sponsored vertical gardens and commercial farms on high-rise buildings in Singapore. Other examples include the restoration of the coral reef around an undersea restaurant in Eilat, Israel, or recent legislation in New York City requiring patterned glass on high-rise buildings, making windows more visible to migratory birds. Other planned examples of reconciliation ecology can be more individually scaled: a rooftop garden in an urban setting, modifying your garden to earn a “backyard bird habitat” certification from the Audubon Society, or even just mowing your lawn less often...
Reconciliation Ecology: Nature's Already Doing It Without Us
But there are countless examples of “accidental” incidents of reconciliation ecology, as well. One of Katti’s favorites is the kit fox of California’s San Joaquin Valley. “The kit fox was one of the very first species listed on the Endangered Species Act,” Katti says. Its decline was caused by habitat loss through agricultural and industrial development, as well as the extermination of the gray wolf population, which led to an increase in coyotes. So kit foxes adapted and moved to new habitats. One of these was the city of Bakersfield, California.
“Bakersfield, surrounded by oil pumps, would be the last place you’d expect to find an endangered species,” Katti says. But researchers think kit foxes have migrated to Bakersfield because they actually have more protection there from predators like coyotes and bobcats. “The kit foxes have figured out that if they can tolerate the human disturbance and live with people, then they are safer from all these other predators,” he says.
Living in the city has led to some interesting behavioral changes. In the wild, for instance, a female kit fox gives birth to her young and raises them by herself in a den. But in the city, researchers have observed multiple females raising their litters together in the same den. “It’s like a form of cooperative breeding,” Katti says. “That wouldn’t happen in the wild.” ...
The Big Picture: How We Think about Conservation
Reconciliation Ecology isn’t just we humans welcoming animals like crocodiles and foxes into our environments, though. It’s also living with nature in a way that most Western societies haven’t done since the Enlightenment. “In recent years, there’s been a recognition that the ‘fortress conservation’ model — keeping nature separated from humans and not thinking of or valuing human-inhabited landscapes — those ideas are outdated,” says Katti.
In fact, in Katti’s classes on reconciliation ecology, he embraces the notion of reconnecting people with their land if they have been unjustly separated from it. “The term reconciliation also applies to all the colonial legacies where both nature and people have been harmed,” Katti says. “For Indigenous communities, the harm done to ecosystems, it’s happened together. So you can talk about addressing both. That’s where a lot of my thinking is at the moment.”
A hopeful version of this sort of reconciliation is happening in California where colleagues of Katti’s who are tribal members are re-introducing “tribal burns” in some areas. Controlled burns have been a part of many Indigenous cultures for millenia, both as a way to prevent devastating forest fires, but also to encourage the growth of certain plants like hazel that are used for basket-weaving and other crafts.
“The notion that people don’t belong there and ‘let nature take care of itself’ doesn’t really work,” Katti says. “That’s the legacy of Western European Enlightenment thinking — a divide between human and nature. That is a real faulty view of nature. People have been part of the ecosystem forever.”
-via Reasons to Be Cheerful, May 5, 2022
#a bit older but still ongoing/relevant and still very cool#florida#crocodile#reptile#ecology#environment#sustainability#endangered species#united states#california#kit fox#nuclear power plant#reconciliation#colonialism#the enlightenment#conservation#human beings#good news#hope#urban ecology
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sincerely yours
luke castellan x athena!reader
word count: 3.7k
warnings: none, i guess? just some good old fashioned capture the flag shit
a/n: i'm so sorry this took so long! yeah, i know i promised i'd post this yesterday, but my daughter is sick. we just got back from the ER a little over an hour ago bcs she was vomiting like crazy. so, i do hope y'all understand that i have a child to tend to, even though i already finished school.
anyway, this shall be my official early apology for lovelorn part two, which is titled “you're losing me,”
i'm gonna try my best to get that out as soon as i can, but please, do not rush me! thank you!
special thanks to my girl @jennapancake my wonderful bestie @lilmaymayy
ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE
“There was something 'bout you that now I can't remember, it's the same damn thing that made my heart surrender,”
Dear Luke,
I bumped into you today. Gods, you looked so majestic from my point of view. I got lost in your eyes, again. Pretty sure if I stared just a little bit longer in your beautiful eyes, all the molecules in my body would combust.
There was something 'bout you that now I can't remember, it’s the same damn thing that made my heart surrender.
“For the love of Ares, write your damn letter after we get the flag!” Clarisse groaned, her electric spear sparking slightly, snapping you out of your lovesick daze.
“Why not? It’s not like the other team’s here,” You shrugged, crossing your legs over the other. “I have plenty of time to write.”
“It’s not like the other team’s here,” Clarisse mimicked the tone of your voice, rolling her dark eyes. “We are at battle, Y/n! Write the damn letter after we win!”
“Let the girl write, Clarisse,” Silena chuckled, sitting beside you with a soft smile. “She’s just so in love with pretty boy, Luke.”
“Silena!” You shushed, craning your neck to glance around if someone was nearby. “Someone could’ve heard you! He could’ve heard you!”
“Relax, lover girl,” Silena smirked, flicking her long dark hair over her shoulder. “No one’s here, no one would dare to approach this side as long as Clar is here.”
Clarissed bobbed her head to the side. “What she said.”
“Shut up,” You grumbled, folding the paper and stuffing inside the back pocket of your shorts along with your pen. “Someone from our team still could’ve passed by.” you huffed, folding your arms over your chest.
“Yeah, so shut up about your pretty boy.” Clarisse rolled her eyes. “Not everyone wants to hear how beautiful his eyes are.”
“Can’t blame her, though,” Silena shrugged her tan shoulders. “He’s so pretty, a sight for sore eyes.”
“He’s a sight for my sore eyes,” You sighed dreamily, resting your chin on your hands.
“Ugh,” Clarisse scrunched her nose. “Are you sure you’re not a daughter of Aphrodite wrongly claimed by Athena? Or at least a legacy of the love goddess?”
“If she was a daughter of love, I would know.” Silena answered, picking up a pebble and throwing it gracefully into the creek right in front of the three of you. “She's definitely not a legacy either. Just an Athena kid in love with a son of Hermes, stupidly in love with said son of Hermes.”
“Hey! I am not stupidly in love-”
“You aren’t?” Clarisse raised a brow. “You were literally just babbling about bumping into him ten minutes ago.”
“Yeah, but-”
“And, you were blushing when you found us.” Silena added, smirking. “Oh, Sil, Clar, I bumped into Lukey! He smells so good, oh gods I love him so bad!”
A blush crept onto your cheeks, the shade of strawberries down at the patch invading your face despite trying against it.
“Aw, you look like a strawberry,” Silena giggled, pinching one of your cheeks.
Before you could utter a word, you heard the sound of rustling leaves and branches snapping to your left.
Clarisse’s head whipped to the side, most likely hearing the intruding sounds. “Get ready,” she muttered, lifting her spear in fight mode.
You nodded, quickly rising up to your feet, grabbing your shield that was sitting unused on the forest floor as well as your celestial bronze sword at the ready. Silena stood beside you, red and pink armor shining in the sun as she held her sword in one hand and shield in the other. She looked so effortlessly beautiful, making you slightly jealous.
Silena was your best friend, and has been since you first arrived at camp. But you couldn’t help but wish you were as pretty as her. She had long gorgeous hair, striking eyes, and angelic features, the look you wish you had. Maybe, if you were as pretty as her, Luke would give you his full attention like how boys did with Silena or any daughter of Aphrodite.
“Oh, hey guys,” A voice you knew oh so well brought you back to reality. Your eyes snapped upward, meeting the eyes of Luke Castellan.
Shit.
You look at Silena and she’s already grinning at you. Clarisse, matching Silena’s with crossed arms.
“Hi, Luke,” Silena greets him with a smile, a slight teasing tone in her voice directed at you.
“What’cha girls up to?” Luke asks, leaning against a tree. Even when he’s sweaty, gods, he’s handsome.
“Nothing!” You quickly answer, averting your gaze away from him, the blush you had earlier still not leaving.
“Where’s the flag?” Clarisse asked, peeking behind the counselor of cabin eleven.
“It’s with Annabeth, don’t worry,” Luke assured with a chuckle. “She isn’t letting the flag out of her sight, won’t even let me touch it.”
“The other team��s flag?” Clarisse raised a brow expectantly.
“The Stolls are on it, Chris too.” Luke answers, running a hand over his chocolate curls, making you gulp. Fuck, he’s too damn hot.
Silena cleared her throat, noticing how nervous you are. “Hey, Clar? Let’s help the boys.”
Clarisse looks at her incredulously, but Silena raises a brow at her. “Okay, fine. Let’s go.”
Your eyes widened. “Wait, what?”
“Luke, you okay with keeping Y/n company for a bit?” Silena asks with a smirk, fixing up her armor.
“Yeah, sure, no problem.” Luke smiles, oblivious to the fact that you are blushing like a ripe red fruit in season.
Shit, shit, shit. You thought, watching the teasing looks of your friends as you stood there obviously frazzled. “No, no, I’m uh, coming with you!” You stammered, nearly stumbling forward. “I’m gonna help!” your voice sounded a little squeaky, making you visibly cringe.
Clarisse snorted, slamming the end of her spear onto the forest floor, the tip sparking like fireworks on the fourth of July. “You stay here, smartass,” she says with a teasing grin. “He's got you covered, right Castellan?”
Luke nodded, a lopsided grin on his handsome face. “I got ‘er, don’t worry,” he chuckles, walking towards you, slinging his muscular arm around your shoulders, pulling you slightly closer to his armored chest. “Wouldn’t want to get maimed by three cabin heads.”
“You’ve got Annabeth, Clarisse, and me to deal with if she gets hurt.” Silena says, pink glossed lips curling into a smirk.
You scowl, folding your arms over your chest. “I can fend for myself, thank you very much.”
“You wouldn’t mind if Lukey here protects you?” Silena chuckled, flicking her long hair over her shoulder, her eyes changing to the shade of Luke’s—chocolate brown, amber in the sunlight.
You crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at your best friends. “I’m perfectly fine without a man,” you grumbled, trying your best to sound nonchalant.
“Uh huh,” Clarisse smirks at you. “Say, Luke, you wouldn’t mind saving our smart ass friend, would you?”
“Not at all,” Luke replies, his lips mirroring Clarisse’s. “What’dya say pretty girl? Y’ mind if I save you?” he continues, nudging you slightly with the arm along your shoulders.
Silena and Clarisse snort at Luke Castellan calling you pretty girl. You were a hundred percent sure that Silena would be teasing you relentlessly after the match because of it.
You narrow your eyes at your ridiculously annoying friends, before slowly averting your gaze towards Luke. Good lord, does this light do him good. “N-No, I don’t mind…” You trail off, your face becoming a little too hot as Luke's perfectly handsome face just inches away.
You feel your heart beating loudly in your chest, making you wonder if the decibels of said beating were audible enough for the boy who’s causing your heart to beat so rapidly.
“That settles it!” Silena clapped her hands together, snapping you back to reality. You quickly push Luke’s arm off of your shoulder, taking a step back away from him as if he had some sort of deadly disease.
I can’t risk him knowing I have a crush on him!
“See you later, pretty girl!” Silena chuckles before grabbing Clarisse’s arm, pulling the daughter of Ares along with her.
As soon as your friends faded from your view, you immediately scramble towards the log you had been sitting on a while ago. You were desperate to hide the fact that you had feelings for the boy standing just meters away. You had to act all tough and calculating, just like your little sister.
“You know,” Luke started, walking in your direction, sheathing his sword in its holster. “From this angle, you look like Annabeth.”
You look up at him, raising a brow, hoping you looked at least intimidating. “How so?”
Luke hummed, taking a seat beside you, placing his shield down on the forest floor. “You had your lower lip out in a pout, just like Annabeth when she’s in deep thought.”
“Who says I’m in deep thought?”
Luke smiles, shaking his head with a chuckle. “I just assumed, since Annabeth is my sister-” he cuts himself off momentarily, looking at you like he had offended you. “I mean, she’s your sister, not mine, you know? Godly parent wise.”
“It’s fine, Luke,” You laugh, giving him an assuring smile. “You have been Annabeth’s family since she was seven. We all know that no one, and I mean no one, can ever replace you as Annie’s big brother.”
Luke sighed a breath of relief. “For a minute there I thought you were going to get mad at me.”
“I mean, there is nothing to be mad about.” You smile, before suddenly remembering the unfinished letter you had sitting in your back pocket.
Shit.
You quickly whipped your head around to see if the letter had fallen out of your pocket, before reaching in your back pocket to check. Thank gods, it’s still here. You push it down deeper in your pocket, if that was still even possible. It's better to be safe rather than sorry.
“You know, you and Annabeth have a lot in common.” Luke says, leaning slightly to the side, looking you up and down, causing you to feel a little shy.
“Yeah?” You squeak out, your eyes visibly widening like stormy gray drachmas before quickly clearing your throat like nothing happened despite the pink tint on your cheeks. “What makes Annabeth and I so similar?”
“Well, for starters, you’re both smart and wise. I mean, yeah, it’s already given because your mom is Athena.”
You playfully raise a brow at him. “What else?” you ask, the corner of your lips twitching into a small smile.
If you were being honest, you were liking this. Just you and Luke, alone—well, not technically—in the woods just chatting about the similarities between you and your younger sister. Personally, you’d prefer something else as a topic. Although, Luke pointing out the similarities between you and Annabeth would mean that he looks at you like you do with him.
It wouldn’t be wrong to assume, would it? Since he had just implied that you and Annabeth had a lot in common. Perhaps even in ways you don’t even notice.
Does this make you delusional? Maybe. But there’s no wrong with that, right?
“You both zone out,” Luke chuckles, wiping off the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand. “Usually, during mornings. Annabeth, she says that it’s because of lack of sleep from reading all night.”
You stifle a laugh, fully knowing that Annabeth spends a lot of time reading during the night. She says that it’s the only time she has during her day, since she prefers getting all of her chores done before getting into leisure activities. You often wonder how on earth does she manage to function with only three to five hours of sleep, when a child her age is supposed to have more than eight hours of rest.
“Well, that’s an acceptable reason to zone out.” You chuckle, pushing back strands of your hair behind your ear, simultaneously wiping off sweat on your brow bone. “I stay up most of the time too, but I don’t overdo it like our little sister. Quite frankly, I do get cranky if I get little to no sleep.”
“I’ve noticed,” Luke snorts, giving you a teasing smile. “You won’t talk to anyone until you’ve gotten your morning tea. A cup of hot peppermint tea with two slices of lemon, a drizzle of honey, and sometimes you add sprigs of mint you ask Katie to grow for you.”
“You know how I take my tea?” You ask, confusion in your features. “I mean, why do you know how I take my tea?”
“It’s kinda hard not to memorize your tea preference when I hear it every time I pick up Annabeth for training.” Luke answers, causing heat to rise up to your cheeks which you hoped that Luke would not notice.
“Oh,” you mumble, realization kicking in. “That makes a lot of sense, actually.”
“Also, you don’t drink it right away. You wait at least two to three minutes—at least from what I see from my table—before taking a sip.”
You suddenly feel butterflies inside your stomach, your cheeks felt like they were getting hotter by the second. You hoped so badly that Luke wouldn’t notice how you were blushing profusely like a teenager in love—which you are, obviously, unless Luke was utterly oblivious to see right through your facade.
Before you could answer, you hear leaves rustling along with heavy footsteps heading towards you and Luke. You quickly rise to your feet, grabbing your sword at shield in defense.
“Enemy team, nine o’clock,” You simply say, the gears in your head moving around to come up with proper battle strategies.
Luke laughs at you as he stands up. He had his sword still in its holster. “Let me guess,” he chuckles, placing his hands on his waist. Gods, he is so fucking slutty. “Calculating ways to beat their asses?”
You roll your eyes at him. “Obviously.” Luke Castellan was the love of your life, but you were not going to lose a game of capture the flag because of him. “Why aren’t you in position?”
“Relax, pretty girl,” Luke waves a hand dismissively as he smirks at you. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
You glare at him, a scowl on your lips. “I can protect myself, thank you very much.”
“Eh, humor me,” Luke nudges your shoulder, a lopsided grin on stupidly handsome face. “It’ll be fun.”
“If you weren’t-” you tried to retort, only to be cut off by Lee Fletcher’s voice.
“Where’s the flag, Castellan?” Lee demands, moving closer towards you and Luke, his siblings following closely behind, ready for a fight.
You wanted to laugh so badly. It was like they were still new to the game. It made you wonder whether they were purposely forgetting the fact that Luke Castellan is the best swordsman camp has seen in the past three hundred years or they’ve never learned their lessons.
“You’re not getting it, Lee. You’d have to get through me first. If you happen to get through me, which I highly doubt, then you’d have to get through Luke—which I can guarantee will not be good.” You taunted, sword at the ready. You then turned to Luke, who was smiling at you. “What?”
“Didn’t know you think so highly of me,” Luke grinned, pulling his sword out of its holster. “Careful, that might get to my head.”
“Whatever,” You roll your eyes at him, trying your hardest not to blush and fall in love with him even more—if that was even possible at this point. You then turn your attention back to the enemy team. “Let’s get this done and over with.”
“Done flirting?” Michael Yew teases from behind Lee, a smirk plastered on his lips.
You scowled, heat rising to your cheeks for the nth time this day. “We weren’t flirting.”
“Eh, looks like it,” Lee snorts, causing his siblings to erupt in laughter.
You glared at Lee, but before you could say anything, Luke charged at Lee—instantly disarming him without even breaking a sweat, the tip of his sword just below the son of Apollo’s chin and his sword in Luke’s hand.
“What she said,” Luke growled, glaring at him as he pushed his sword forward, grazing Lee’s neck.
Lee whimpered at Luke’s mercy, his eyes closed shut as his siblings stood behind him like scared little kids—well, most of them were.
“Luke, stop,” You gently placed your hand on his shoulder, feeling a thousand sparks coursing through your veins. When he didn’t budge, you sighed. “Come on, Luke, he’s not worth it.”
It took a minute, but Luke moved his sword away from Lee, though he was still glaring at the son of Apollo. “Get out of my face before I-”
“Luke,” You sighed, grabbing his arm and pulling him to the side before casting a glance at the son of Apollo. “Go, if you know what’s good for you—all of you—go.”
You then turned your full attention back to Luke, his eyes meeting yours with just a few inches separating your faces from another. You felt his breath hot on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. Oh gods, help me.
“No can do,” Lee mutters under his breath, pulling his sword out from its holster. “Attack!” he yelled, charging towards you and Luke.
Acting on your instincts, you immediately grabbed your sword, blocking Lee’s attack, maneuvering your sword, putting your whole weight into a downward thrust. Lee’s sword rattled against the stones, the tip of your sword poking his armor. You then pushed him back with the flat of your blade, causing him to stumble back over a rock, falling on his ass.
You whipped your head around to find Luke disarming Michael Yew with ease, he then grabbed the son of Apollo’s arm, twisting it before shoving him to the side. “You should’ve used arrows.” he taunted the younger boy, a smirk on his lips.
To the side, you saw another child of Apollo—Dawn, you think her name was—sneaking up on Luke, aiming her sword just above his jugular vein.
You quickly ran towards Luke, sliding under his legs, causing Dawn to trip and land face first in a pile of leaves—well, you hoped it was more than just leaves.
“Wrong move,” you laughed deviously, blowing strands of your hair away from your face.
“Thanks,” Luke chuckled, helping you back on your feet. He then rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh, before jerking his head behind you, only to find Lee charging towards you.
Luke immediately passed you a shield, which you quickly slid on the ground in Lee’s way, causing him to trip and his sword to fly out his hand and fall just below your feet.
You quickly knelt down, picking the sword up and passing it to Luke with a grin. “Nice save, Luke.”
“You flatter me too much.” Luke chuckled, tilting his head to the side. “I should be flattering you! By the gods, you looked like a warrior princess!”
“I did not,” You laugh nervously, feeling your cheeks heat up again. “I simply did what I was trained to do.”
“Yeah, well- stay down!” Luke pointed his sword at Lee, causing the boy to sigh heavily.
“Fine, we surrender!”
Luke turned his attention back to you, giving you a lopsided grin. “Where was I?”
Before you could utter a reply, loud cheers and laughter rang out from the distance, making its way closer to where you and Luke were standing. You see the Stoll brothers along with Chris Rodriguez waving the enemy team’s flag in the air as Clarisse waved your team’s flag in victory.
“We won!” Clarisse laughed heartily, smiling victoriously as she slung her arm around Chris’ shoulders. “Wave it in their faces, Rodriguez!”
“We won!” You squealed, looking at Luke, your hair bouncing in the air as you jumped up and down. “We won! We actually won!”
All of a sudden, Luke picked you up by the waist, twirling you around like a princess in those movies you watched as a child.
“We won!” Luke laughed as he spun you around like you didn’t weigh anything, causing you to erupt in a fit of giggles. “I knew we’d win this!”
“Victory!” You laughed as Luke stopped twirling you, your stormy eyes meeting his chocolate ones as you felt the world pause around you, their cheers fading as Luke smiled at you—that annoyingly handsome smile you’ve come to love—as you felt your heart beat like a bass drum.
You sighed contentedly, yours and Luke’s faces just a few inches away from each other. “We won,”
“Yeah, pretty girl, we did,” Luke grinned, you could’ve sworn you felt his hold on you tighten as if he was bringing you in closer, but you didn’t want to be delusional so you just laughed it off.
“You guys done flirting?” Clarisse’s voice snapped you and Luke out of your little world. Your eyes widened drastically, your cheeks reddening like a tomato as Luke placed you back down on your feet. You then quickly scrambled towards Silena, Annabeth, and Clarisse, looking embarrassed as ever.
“We..we weren’t flirting!” You quickly told your friends and younger sister, as you reached into your back pockets for some extra hair ties you kept to tie your hair up.
“Uh huh,” Silena teased, smirking at the way your cheeks reddened up. “Whatever you say, pretty girl,”
“Shut up,” You grumbled, tying your hair up when the realization settled in.
The letter was gone.
Oh fuck.
“Oh shit, fuck, god damnit!” You immediately started looking around for the crumpled paper hoping no one had noticed it yet, unfortunately there were still a lot of campers around, and one must have seen it already.
“What is it?” Annabeth asked, raising a brow at you as she slipped her dagger in its holster. “You okay?”
“Yeah, fuckin’ fantastic!” You say frantically, still scanning the area for any sign of your unfinished letter. You mentally pleaded to your mother to help you find the letter, desperate measures require desperate solutions. Hell, you even started praying to the goddess Aphrodite for help.
Mom, come on, if you love me, help me find my love letter!
Aphrodite, oh goddess, help me in the name of love!
“Oh fuck, you have got to be fucking kidding me.” You say, finally spotting the letter.
In Luke Castellan’s hands.
“Motherfu-”
taglist: @ma1dita @m00ng4z3r @woodlandwrites @sflame15-blog @the-sylver-dragon @ceruleansx @evsolostheuniverse @patitotodd @emryb @onecojg @caramelandvenus @yourfavoritereader @fennecswife @lynbubble @scarletsapphic @lvrgirl6999 @harrysnovia @nyxikae @mxtokko @sc4rl3ttdafoxx
#luke castellan fanfic#luke castellan story#luke castellan fanfiction#pjo luke#luke castellan#luke castellan fluff#luke castellan fic#luke castellan x y/n#luke castellan x reader fanfic#luke castellan x you#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan x athena!reader#luke castellan series#luke castellan pjo#percy jackson fanfiction#pjo fanfiction#pjo fanfic#athena!reader#silena beauregard#clarisse la rue#annabeth chase#chris rodriguez#travis stoll#connor stoll#camp half blood#pjo series#pjo#fanfic#fanfiction#charlie bushnell x reader
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I’ve seen a few people, mostly non-American, who don’t know who Henry Kissinger is or what he did. So your local history student and nerd is going to try to give a quick summary of the main atrocities he committed.
-Role in the Vietnam War: this is the first and biggest reason most people have for hating Kissinger. He unnecessarily extended and expanded the war prolonging the already frivolous conflict. He purposefully delayed negotiations. He approved large scale carpet bombings done with the use of B-52 bombs killed thousands to millions of innocent civilians. The Christmas Bombing was an intense, focused bombing that caused large civilian deaths in a short period of time. He engaged in negotiations with the North Vietnamese often without permission or knowledge from the US government. He was the National Security Advisor and overall had much knowledge about 1) how useless the war was 2) the travesties happening to both the North Vietnamese and South, as well as America’s own soldiers.
-Secret Bombing and Invasion in Cambodia: Kissinger (and Nixon) lead secret bombing campaigns in Cambodia aimed to destroy North Vietnamese trails and routes that ran through the country. Cambodia originally pursued neutrality in the war. Its citizens were not involved.
-Invasion and Bombing of Laos: Laos also held North Vietnamese routes, so Kissinger led Operation Lam Son which was a full scale invasion supplied with American air power and weapons. Not that it would matter, but this invasion did little to interrupt the trade routes. The North Vietnamese, made up of people who lived and knew the landscape of Vietnam, were able to adapt and find new routes. There was also secret bombings carried out in Laos, authorized by Kissinger, aimed to destroy the Ho Chi Minh trail, which, once again, wasn’t disrupted and just took innocent civilian lives in Laos. Laos also remained neutral in the Vietnam War. They were not involved, yet they were punished.
-Involvement in the Bangladesh Liberation War: this was a war between Bangladesh and Pakistan. Kissinger remained in a close relationship with Pakistan which, by now, was known to be committing horrendous human rights abuses, including large scale killings of the Bangladeshis. In fact, Kissinger and America provided funding for them. America was aligned in the first place because of bullshit Cold War alliances.
-Supporting and funding a dictator over an elected president: Chile had elected a *gasp* socialist president that really made Kissinger piss his pants. Project FUBELT, directly under Kissinger’s guidance, initiated covert actions to undermine and prevent the socialist President, Salvador Allende, from rising to power. Financial support was provided to anti-Allende groups and would eventually provided support to a military coup who would kill Allende. The leader of the coup, Augusto Pinochet, would then assume power and take rule an authoritarian government and become a dictator for 17 years. Under his rule, torture and executions were carried out against political dissidents and others. This wasn’t a secret.
-Supported the brutal invasion of East Timor: Indonesia would invade and occupy East Timor in 1975. Kissinger and Nixon had knowledge of the invasion beforehand and provided military support despite the knowledge of human rights abuses already taking place in East Timor by the Indonesians, abuses often using US weapons. Massacres, forced displacement, suppression of political dissents, torture, sexual abuse, restrictions of religious and cultural practices, and scorched earth policies are just some examples.
To my knowledge, these are usually the largest reasons cited, but please add more if I’m wrong. There are also lesser known atrocities either supported or funded by Kissinger, many taking place in Africa, that I thoroughly implore you to read about. Please correct any inaccurate things I said.
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my favourite fics and writers
hi, y'all!! so I've decided that this year, I want to be more appreciative of all the amazing content we have on this app, and thank the writers providing it. this was inspired by Lily (lastnightwaskindofablur) who shared how long it took her to write her series, and it made me realise how much time and love are poured into these fics.
so this list is basically everyone im following, and my favourite piece of writing from them! I don't think I've forgotten anyone, but if I have IM SO SORRY!! if I am following you- I'm obsessed with you.
anyway, so sorry for tagging 1000 people but I love and appreciate you all so much!!
(so much rambling below the cut)
@64yrsold; “aches” is amazing and “wintering” is heartbreaking in the best way. Also, all of their one-shots are just amazing, I could read them over and over again!!
@yourtouchismidas; “ruins” was one of the first fics that had me checking AO3 every day for updates. truly heartbreaking and all-encompassing. and all the blurbs from it are also amazing. The dad! Matty content mixed with the angst is just so well done.
@abiiors; is not only one of the nicest people on this app (and maybe the world) but also one of the most talented writers. so so many amazing fics that honestly, don't even get me started on bc I will talk for HOURS. but “haunt//bed” is one fic I can't stop coming back to. And “Three’s a Party” is… mind-numbingly good, it actually made me scream into a pillow when I read it for the first time. Vee also creates all the amazing 75 Tumblr activities so really she is to thank for SO MUCH content on here!! one of the kindest people I know, and I feel so lucky to call her my friend :)))
@shinycollarboneapologist; was the blog where I started rambling and sharing ideas, so she is to thank for all the friends I've made on here!!! The Taylor verse is PHENOMENAL and “illicit affairs” is a fav. but “clandestine” has invaded my brain so much I literally dream about it regularly... so I have to say that's my no.1
@imagine-that-100; I first discovered her series "Drunk” on ao3 and then promptly binged everything on her masterlist (multiple times...) “Chicken Shop Date” is just a masterpiece (she and her co-writer are AMAZING on this and I will ramble about her later), but my personal fav is “truth serum”. I have probably read that fic about 50 times over and I love it just as much every time!!!
@heyidkyay; I first read “Who Can Say No to Bridezilla?” and became obsessed on ao3. but then I found them on Tumblr and was completely sucked into "I guess I'll take this pain, instead of your name" which is quite possibly the best George series on here. so much character building and back story, and overall just a phenomenal fic.
@justlikemebutsixfootthree; has some of the best smut on this app,” The Birthday Party” is probably my most re-read because it is just an absolute masterpiece. but “insane” and “direction” are also both amazing.
@imightgetbetter; was one of the first blogs I discovered on here, and I fell in love with the whole “Love It If We Made It” series. such an amazing development of a relationship and their writing is AMAZING. but my absolute favourites have to be “Bets are off” and “I love dilfs.”
@butyou-callmewhenyourebored; has such good Ross content all around, truly providing for the Ross girlies!!! but the Leeds au blurb 1 is my fav from them!
@drivelikeiido; has some beautiful fluff, and I just love the way they write Matty. but (not so) important decisions just make my heart warm like nothing else!!!
@toomuchracket; my beloved mads!! the fun wine aunt of 1975 Tumblr. I mean I could talk for 17 pages about my love for all of her au's... birthday party is the perfect supportive husband, d-word is the best slutty old man content on this app lol and flatmate is the friends-to-lovers content we all yearn for. asking me to choose my favourite Mads fic is like choosing a favourite child, but right now it has to be totally wrecked. I think that has altered my brain chemistry in an indescribable way… (edit; since writing this she has put out possibly my no.1 fic of all time, “and this is how it starts” so I just had to mention how much I fucking adore it)
@lottiecrabie; I mean... what else is there to even say about Lottie other than she is one of the best writers I have ever read. truly the mother of 1975 Tumblr. “rockstar girlfriend” and “pray for my soul” both have such special places in my heart, but anatomy au locked a new section in my brain fr. that little loser lives in my head rent free!!!
@tillthelandslide; is so so kind and has some amazing series I would recommend to EVERYONE. “insufferable asshole” is one of my absolute favourites, I love a grovelling man what can I say!!! but “Same for You” has me flipping sides every chapter, I still can't choose if I'm team Ross or team Matty.
@lastnightwaskindofablur; what more can I sat about the whole ATPOAIM universe other than it is quite literally phenomenal. the amount of time and effort poured into the Brittany Jackson universe is so clear by how amazing each fic and blurb is. my absolute favourite thought is "Christmas isn't cancelled (just you.)" from the 12 days of Christmas. it is easily one of my favourite fics I've read!!! She is also the whole inspiration behind this list and made me realise how important thanking your favourite writers really is.
@cowboylor; ohmyLORD the smut on this blog is just... wowowoowowowow. actually made me nervous to attempt smut because of how good theirs is. "Cabin Fever" is probably my favourite, I love a good threesome fic.
@alovesreading; the other half of the JAW DROPPING series that is “Chicken Shop Date”. the hours that have been put into that fic are so clear in how well thought out it is. every word feels purposefully placed, and every chapter fucking HITS. A also writes amazing fics for Alex Turner and is slowly making me an Alex girlie just by how good her writing is...
@bookish-strawberry; such such good fics in the "You and Me Till the End Universe". Ambrose has just created such loveable characters and you can't help but adore his writing. “alleyway” pt 1 and 2 are my favourites, I do love some fwb content.
@hypersonic04; her teacher Ross universe is just great, every blurb and fic just radiates the love between the characters that she has created!! but my absolute favourite fic of hers has to be "Tis the damn season", it somehow made me love one of my favourite songs even more.
@cryley; her “Petichor” series is just fluffy perfection, I have probably read it over 10 times and will 1000% be reading it at least 10 more...
@cows-wearing-my-sweater; has some amazing one-shots, and his work on “Eternal Summer” is absolutely beautiful. she manages to make you feel the warmth of summer through a screen, and it's fucking beautiful.
@thefrontofmymind; has so many great matty fics/imagines, “Helping Hand” jumps out easily as my favourite though. Once again, friends with benefits is ALWAYS gonna slap. especially when they confess their feelings at the end!!!! ahhh so good. “Proof Positive” is such a good Ross fic, if you like pregnancy fics I would HIGHLY recommend it.
@uramilf; did the 12 days of Christmas last year, and every day was amazing!!! But £The Record Shop” is my favourite series from her, love and music combined are too perfect for me not to adore.
@3terna15unshin3; Marcey's fic "then because she goes" had me refreshing ao3 DAILY. este is such a well-rounded and beautiful character, her and Matty's love makes me so lovesick it's CRAZY. that whole series is my favourite, and my fav blurb from that universe is Toothbrush. Este and Matty are so beloved by me <333
@because-she-goes; has an amazing universe with Matty and an OC that I adore, Nora is such a lovely character and every fic about them makes me giddy. "black lace" and "Summer Girl" are my favourites of their fics though!
@theseventyfive; has such a way with words, every fic makes me giggle and kick my feet. but if you saw my tags on my reblog of "not so secret Santa" you know how deeply I adore that fic. the writing on it is beautiful and makes you feel warm somehow??? amazing.
@wrongendofurcigarette; George girlies it's your time to shine!!!! "sun-soaked" and "wet" swirl in my mind whenever I see a pic of George looking... particularly good. but recently she has created an actress reader au that I am BUZZING for. that little snippet was... wowowowowowowow
@automaticllamacycle; OLIVE!!!!! once again, such a nice and genuine human being and I am so so lucky to chat with her because she is the best hypeman EVER. and is amazing to bounce ideas off of. just such a kind person and I am blessed to scream to her over DM. her coffee shop AU might be my most-read fic ever. it was my daily routine at one point to wake up, go to AO3 and read that fic. when part 2 came out???? I DIEDDDDDDD. but also all of olives horny thoughts are... MUWAH chefs kiss.
@red---moon; "after party" is another fic I read regularly on ao3, sleepy matty after a party with flirting and then smut??? hellooooo yes please. also, “Souvenir” as a series is just amazing, so so so good.
@maxverstappensflatbrim; “show me yours” is such a beautiful universe, and has SO MANY CHAPTERS for you to become obsessed with. I just love every character in that universe, and Mac’s writing is amazing.
@justanamesstuff; “All I Need” is such an amazing series, and I would recommend it to anyone who loves Dad! Matty content!! But all her blubs are worth reading too!!
@procrastinatinglikeapro; is so so sweet and has some absolutely mind-blowing fics. I must have read her entire masterlist 10 times over at this point. Choosing a favourite is hard, but “Does it matter” as a series has me HOOKED. (but also I love “mango lipgloss” and “wear my name around your neck”… don't make me choose okay)
@wrestletotheground; has some absolute BANGERS that everyone MUST read. Once again, the ross-tent on this blog is amazing. “Crime and Punishment” is my fav Matty fic from them, and she absolutely killed it with “Settle Down” for Ross!!
@mybrokenveins3000; college ross SUPREMACY!!! She is right when she says she is proud of “everyday rockstar” because it's easily my fav!!
@steel-elle; beautiful writing with everything she does, but my favourite has to be “But I stay when it's hard, or it's wrong, or we're making mistakes” (is this also because I love the song New Year's Day?? perhaps…)
@kscheibles; “e la vita” is so stunning I don't even know how to verbalise it. That fic has a portion of my heart FOREVER. But college bf! Matty is truly the man we all deserve, and I am obsessed with him.
@think0fmehigh; molly!!! My love!!! What else is there to say about Molly other than she might be my fav filthy smut writer on this app, and thats a tough competition. Every time I get a snippet in DM’s from her, I feel like one of the luckiest human beings alive. Molly does not have a bad fic (despite her protests im sure) but my top two (because I CANT CHOOSE JUST ONE) have to be “Birthday Girl” and “You Get Me So High.” but honestly if you have the time, bless your life by reading every word she's ever written.
@controlmyfeet; DAD MATTY FIC. thats all I even need to say, it is SO SWEET and it makes me so happy!!!!
@bfiaflbox; sooooo much good content, but my favourites are “Wintering” and “Tonight I Wish I Was Your Girl” !!
@nowshesdoingitallthetime; kirke. This is me BEGGING for more bartender matty!!! “Cocktails, Cowboys and back alleys” is MWUAH MWUAH MWUAH. Bartender Matty is a need, I adored every second of that fic.
@wiintring; I NEED more from Christina!!! Her writing is all wonderful, and “Come here dressed in black now” does live in my mind!!!
@grocerystorelist; “body of Christ” is made for the religious trauma girlies and the fleabag girls. PREIST MATTY DRIVES ME CRAZYYYYY. Leila is so talented, it's crazy.
@forcryingoutlloud; wowwowwowwow the smutty content on this blog… its sooooooo good. “Beg for it” and “greedy” did melt my brain in the absolute best way, like I was genuinely SWEATING at how hot it was. As is everything on her masterlist!!
@hrryshoney; gyno! Matty unlocked a whole new side to me that I had NO IDEA was there. Like… insane. And the newest photographer reader fic also drove me CRAZY because I do love a cocky fictional man and some semi-public sex…
@the1975attheirverybest; Halla’s blog is a great place for discussion, good writing and crazy intelligent analysis of the band. “Education” and “being funny in a foreign language” are just… art. Truly. The character of Amelia and the characterisation of Matty are some of my favourites on this app. Hot smut, good writing and a lovely human being- what else do you need hellooo?? (also the pegging blurb from ages ago… yeah I think about her A LOT.)
@sugar-coat-it; FILTY, AMAZING SMUT. literally, every piece on Belle’s masterlist is worth reading 100 times over. Her newest thigh-riding blurb has been rotting my brain, I can't stop going back to it and reading it. Also, the Kylo Ren fic… mask kink unlocked fr. and the matty helping you deepthroat fic is also incredible. (can I just name everything she's done orrr???)
@cinomn; Nina has some great content, and I would genuinely recommend anything!! My favourite has to be “Summer Nights”, but it's a TOUGH competition tbh!!
@noacfslut; THE WRITING SPEED ON THIS BLOG?? MIND BOGGILING. And not only is Elle speedy, but every fic all absolutely wonderful. “Jealousy jealousy” and “undo” are my favourites, but that might change when I get the chance to read her mechanic au, because from what I've heard, it's also extraordinary.
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A LITTLE GUN HISTORY FIRST POSTED in 2015
In 1929, the Soviet Union established gun control. From 1929 to 1953, about 20 million dissidents, unable to defend themselves, were rounded up and exterminated.
In 1911, Turkey established gun control. From 1915 to 1917, 1.5 million Armenians, unable to defend themselves, were rounded up and exterminated.
Germany established gun control in 1938 and from 1939 to 1945, a total of 13 million Jews and others who were unable to defend themselves were rounded up and exterminated.
China established gun control in 1935. From 1948 to 1952, 20 million political dissidents, unable to defend themselves were rounded up and exterminated.
Guatemala established gun control in 1964. From 1964 to 1981, 100,000 Mayan Indians, unable to defend themselves, were rounded up and exterminated.
Uganda established gun control in 1970. From 1971 to 1979, 300,000 Christians, unable to defend themselves, were rounded up and exterminated.
Cambodia established gun control in 1956. From 1975 to 1977, one million educated people, unable to defend themselves, were rounded up and exterminated.
56 million defenseless people rounded up and exterminated in the 20th Century because of gun control:
You won't see this data on the US evening news, or hear politicians disseminating this information.
Guns in the hands of honest citizens save lives and property and, yes, gun-control laws adversely affect only the law-abiding citizens.
Take note my fellow Americans, before it's too late!
The next time someone talks in favor of gun control, please remind them of this history lesson.
With guns, we are "citizens". Without them, we are "subjects".
During WWII the Japanese decided not to invade America because they knew most Americans were ARMED!
If you value your freedom, please spread this antigun-control message to all of your friends.
SWITZERLAND ISSUES EVERY HOUSEHOLD A GUN!
SWITZERLAND'S GOVERNMENT TRAINS EVERY ADULT THEY ISSUE A RIFLE.
SWITZERLAND HAS THE LOWEST GUN RELATED CRIME RATE OF ANY CIVILIZED COUNTRY IN THE WORLD!!!
IT'S A NO BRAINER!
DON'T LET OUR GOVERNMENT WASTE MILLIONS OF OUR TAX DOLLARS IN AN EFFORT TO MAKE ALL LAW ABIDING CITIZENS AN EASY TARGET.
Spread the word everywhere you can that you are a firm believer in the 2nd Amendment!
It's time to speak loud before they try to silence and disarm us.
You're not imagining it, history shows that governments always manipulate tragedies to attempt to disarm the people.
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nabi
pairing: lee donghyuck x afab!reader.
content: smut, angst. miscommunication trope, exes to lovers, manipulation, toxic relationship, jealousy, college au, mention of jisung, mention of jaemin, mention of mark. hand job, shower sex (kinda) riding, angry sex, slight bondage, softdom!haechan, rough sex, edging, unprotected sex.
wc: 6.8k.
playing: 21 gracie abrams ;; somebody else the 1975 ;; white ferrari frank ocean ;; hostage billie eilish ;; there you are zayn ;; people libianca x becky g ;; la la lost you 88rising x niki ;; style taylor swift.
an: thanks for reading <33
you missed his 23rd birthday.
as you listen to your roommate rummaging through her bedroom drawers, your eyes wander to the phone screen. fingers floating on the keyboard, half a sentence written, before you end up deleting it. the shower you have taken has not served to remove the thoughts that swarm in your head.
emily comes out of her room just as you block the phone, shooting you a look. “so, what are we thinking?” she asks, appearing around the doorway, taking a leisurely turn that allows you to see her outfit. “perfect,” you just say. emily huffs, “i hope so,” she informs, rolling her eyes at something that crosses her mind. then look at you again. “are you sure you don't want to come? i mean, it's a saturday night,” she says, and for a second, a hint of pity crosses her features. “i'm fine, ems,” you say, “i'll make myself some wine and devour a marathon of how to get away with murder.”
emily narrows her eyes. maybe her idea of saturday night is very different from yours, but in the end, she decides to give up. you listen to her heels become more and more inaudible until it is only silence and you.
you fall into bed touchless. looking at the ceiling contemplating your decisions. the sweet torture of maybes and perhaps invades you until you decide to shake them away like an annoying mosquito and head toward the kitchen. emily has taken the wine. you stare at the nearly empty fridge, cursing for declining the offer to get drunk until you lose consciousness and wallow with some handsome guy. your saturday can't be going worse.
a half-empty bottle of vodka lies on the fridge door, and you examine your chances and possibilities. there is always the option of going for liquor at 12 in the morning at the nearest supply, but honestly, you don't feel like doing it. so the bottle will suffice. not enough to get you drunk but enough to dull the chest pain that has been oppressing you since last night came to an end, and you find yourself collecting stars on the ceiling of your room while imagining him having fun with his friends, going out to a party, enjoying without you. maybe finding a girl and falling in love again, while you can't move on, pathetic, trapped, and sunk in the melancholy that memories of when he was with you bring to the surface. from when he loved you.
when it chimes 3 in the morning, you can't take it anymore. the bottle of vodka has run out even before its time, and your head feels light, so light that you feel like you can float. you change into used jeans and a sweatshirt before heading for the exit, but stop and think better of it, approaching the bathroom. the reflection is pitiful, fixing it is almost useless but you still try. feeling that no effort will give results, looking again in the mirror and looking the same or even worse. you give up very quickly, and by the time you want to rethink it again, you find yourself on the street.
a thousand and one thoughts swarm in your head. random images appear like shooting stars across your vision, are you crying? you do not know. the lethargy of the liquor does not let you think clearly. yes, you can blame it on that, when you find yourself in front of the mahogany door of his apartment. knuckles suspended in the air, debating. to go or to stay. the heaviness settles in the pit of your stomach and suddenly you are twenty again. a younger you, smiling, having friends, enjoying fleeting youth. finding love, falling in love, a guy with a blurry face smiles at you until his features harden, and you don't know why. suddenly the shell rises. and you feel like breaking his heart, but he's breaking yours. you don't know anything other than the unknown and dangerous feeling that consumes you, so you decide to end it before it finishes you. and you never look back.
but now you do. and there is no return from this point when your hands finally touch the wood. noises are heard from the other side, and you freeze. footsteps are heard in crescendo and a chill runs down your spine. the door opens, and suddenly all the words you know are gone.
donghyuck looks at you without revealing any emotion. shocked maybe? he doesn't say anything for an eternity, or a minute, no one knows. drinking in the presence of the other, assuring you that it is real. “hello.” your mouth feels dry, and swallowing is useless. “yn…” says your name, and you go back in the past when pronouncing your name caused warmth in your stomach. now the only thing that causes you is gagging. the guilt sits in your stomach, and it's unpleasant. “forgive me.” the prayer leaves your mouth before you can stop it, and a sob accompanies it. you see donghyuck suppresses a pitying frown before your vision blurs. you muffle the sound with the exterior of your hand, unable to meet his eyes, suddenly feeling his touch on your shoulders, slide down your back and draw you in. but not toward him. restlessness makes your mind have a lucid moment, suddenly observing his dark hair fall on his forehead, soaked, with small beads of water falling to the ground. you realize that he is entirely naked, except for the towel around his waist. “shit, i'm sorry.” there are no traces of the nostalgia to see him again, now replaced by the shame of having interrupted him while he was bathing. perhaps he expected it to be someone else, considering that he must have interrupted his bath to answer the door. “don't be,” he murmurs, modestly.
“not seriously. i must have interrupted you.”
“i was almost done.”
again, the silence begins to grow between your bodies, taking more and more space in the small room of their apartment, suffocating any opportunity to prevent it.
“did you expect…?”
“are you okay?” you talk at the same time. “of course,” you lie, and he nods. “how about you?” questions. “i'm doing fine,” he answers simply. you watch his fingers comb his wet hair out of sight, revealing that she looked at you first.
but you're not feeling well, are you? you haven't been well for a long time, but you've managed to avoid thinking about it because if you did, you'd say confessions that won't go anywhere. that they will be lost somewhere in his mind and that they would not make any change. talking won't improve anything.
so you're not okay. you haven't been since you didn't have him, but saying so would be selfish, and you care more that he is, because today is his birthday, and the thought of knowing that he's feeling horrible completely breaks you. “donghyuck…” the words burn in your throat, “don't say anything,” he begs, “it's okay,” he assures, but you shake his head. i didn't know you wanted me there, so i didn't go," you finished.
the confession hangs in the air, weighing, debating.
“it's okay,” he reassures, “you're here now, you don't have to apologize anymore.” and although forgiveness was supposed to give you a truce, it ends up making you feel worse. it eats you up inside, like a black hole that devours everything in its path. feeding on the dark places, until there is nothing left but an empty shell. donghyuck drags you to the surface as his icy hands hover over yours, and you look back in thanks. his eyes seem to say “you're welcome” when he looks at you.
and you can't help it.
you kiss him.
his cold hands begin to acclimate to your warmth as they run over your arms and back. fervent. unable to leave them alone. your fingers are buried in his wet hair, a sigh falling from his lips when you caress his nape. devouring the existence of the other, hungry tongues wanting to savor the other, the feeling of not having enough until you cannot melt your bodies...
donghyuck directs your steps blindly. his mouth still on yours. his soft lips being bitten and caressed by your tongue, the little sounds he lets loose dying in your throat. your back hits a hard surface, drawing you a surprised gasp. the reaction only causes the collision of your tongues when they meet, melting your insides and taking your breath away. you move away to catch your breath, even caressing the boy's hair, who wastes no time running his tongue around your neck. your hands travel to his bare, slightly damp shoulders, before sliding down her veiny arms, and back up.
his face hides in the crook of your neck, sucking and kissing your skin, releasing a thousand explosives into your senses, before his hands separate you from the wall and take you with him to his room. your shoes are lost somewhere along the way, your sweatshirt is stripped from your body by his hands, breaking the kiss only to remove it over your head, before attacking your mouth again.
your hands run over the smooth skin of his chest and back, letting yourself be carried away by him while you kiss him with the same fervor as he does. “let me…” your eyes open when you no longer feel movement, and your feet stop on the cold surface of the tiles. his eyes flicker between yours and your waist. your gaze moves down, where her body is hidden only by a towel wrapped around her waist. you nod, dry-mouthed, finally looking up at him. giving him the permission he shouldn't ask for. leaving chaste kisses on your mouth while his hands go towards your pants, and yours towards his, helping him to remove the garment, which falls heavily on the floor.
the kiss deepens as his hands wrap around your waist, circling his thumbs, working his way down to your butt, feeling the skin, squeezing.
your hands go to the cloth that covers his masculinity, stopping you momentarily, as donghyuck pushes you against him. you feel the bulge in your lower belly, pressing against the towel. donghyuck makes you press against him, letting out a strangled groan. you swear that your interior tightens. foreheads brushing as your hands finally undo the towel from her waist, and her hands slide your underwear down, both falling to the floor, taking a backseat. his hand goes up your back, until it finds the clasp of your bra, taking it off with an agile movement, while all his attention is on your mouth.
his hands run through your body carelessly, as if all his judgment had been removed along with the towel on the floor, leaving only the primitive and lustful desire inhibited by his morality. taking your chest in his hand while another does not allow you to move away from his body, resting on your butt. leaving all the control of the kiss in you, the way you want it to be, how long you want it to be, how deep and violent can be.
pushing his hip against you, stimulating his erection against your stomach. “shall we go back to the shower?” he questions between kisses his eyes remain closed, and something inside you stirs because you fear that he does not want to look at you. hiding from your gaze, he presses you against himself. “yeah.” his voice is hoarse and guilt-ridden. and yet knowing it, you can't just walk away and leave it. you can not. because you are selfish.
your lips attack his neck while he detaches himself from your body to open the shower and regulate the temperature. when he comes back to you, he pins you against the wall and kisses you, as if the episode from a while ago hadn't happened. you caress her temples and pull away. “are you okay?” you ask. his lips leave little kisses on your wrists. “of course.” his eyes finally look at you. there is nothing more in them than warmth.
“are you okay with me here?” you want to ask. will he say yes? will he be quiet? you want to know if he wants you with the same intensity that you want him. if the ghost of you still remains in him like his ghost in you, tormenting you every second you spend without being with him. is he okay here with you? you hope so from the way he kisses you and moans, that he thought of you at least once while he was with someone else.
and it's the only thing that matters. not the selfish being, or the most horrible person in the world. or feel like shit for knowing that the one who put you in this situation was yourself. that asking you if he wants you there with him is totally your fault, and that both of you feel miserable is caused by you. but it does not matter. while kissing you, your mind forgets everything. there is no room for the suffering that oppresses your chest, the guilt that eats you inside each time there are these encounters, the emptiness that lets you know that you are no longer his. without realizing it, you are crying. but donghyuck doesn't realize it; the shower hides the tears, and your sobs turn to moans as his leg settles between yours, moving it against your core.
you grind against him in a swing of the hips. your hands down his chest to his stomach, where his cock hits goosebumps. encircling your hand the length of it, you move up and down his member, stopping at the tip to touch it. donghyuck grits his teeth at the sensitivity, but doesn't ask you to stop. his hand goes to your hips to move more enthusiastically on his smooth thigh. the subtle movement makes you gasp, moving your hand in time with his movements. stopping without warning and replacing his leg with his fingers, nimble and careful, making you moan with each movement. stirring in sync with his fingers but not getting enough of him. “let me stretch you out a bit, mmm?” he whispers. his fingers send lightning bolts throughout your bloodstream. blood heating up, heart beating faster. your eyes flutter at the precise movements of his digits, knowing exactly where to touch, what place makes you moan, what place makes you close your eyes, what place makes you clench your legs because the sensation overwhelms you.
your hand works with pauses on his cock due to the effect he has on you, and you know how frustrating it must be feeling not to be able to concentrate, so you move his body away from you. “only you,” you say, catching your breath and beginning to long for his touch. you see him frown in disagreement and open his mouth to retort, but you stop him.
“i want to make you feel good.”
“okay.” his lips come back to yours, but this time, his hands remain on your hip. your fingers wrap around his penis, beginning to pound the length with great care. his neck is exposed as his head is pulled back, lips letting out guttural sounds as you fuck him with your hand. eyes devouring his expressions, his angular features contracting with pleasure, eyes narrowed by the incredible sensation of your hands working on his cock. your gaze moves to his cock. of a reddish tone and with pearls of precum in the cleft. and you find yourself fantasizing about running your tongue down the length, tasting it, getting it into your mouth. but you don't; it's too intimate. and it's not up to you to do it.
“what's going through your mind?” donghyuck wants to know. his eyes seek yours through the curtain of tears. your hands work faster and he seems to forget for a moment, letting out a moan that sounds like longing to you. “shit,” he says, finding your mouth and kissing it with wild excitement. “oh…o—oh fuck, nabi, don't stop.” your hand working fervently on his cock, with circular movements at the tip, occasionally brushing the slit with drops of pre-cum. donghyuck lets out another guttural moan before he cums into your hand. thick and hot semen, which bathes your hand and falls almost immediately on the tiles. watching him narrow his eyes when your hands linger longer on him, knowing exactly when to stop. donghyuck hisses at the sharp sensation coursing through his penis as your movements slow and stop.
you finish bathing and drying off as if the minutes were running out, as if the fire of desire could be extinguished now that they have come far.
his body is sprawled on the edge of the mattress, wide eyes watching every move you make as you climb onto him. kisses are left everywhere, stomach, arms, breasts, chest, neck, jaw, but never on your lips. kissing the skin of his temple, feeling him direct his member towards your pussy, already longing for him. slipping like silk from how wet you are. feeling it fill you inside, pleasantly. “o—oh,” you groan. the sensation overwhelms all your senses, making it impossible to contain the swing of your hips. donghyuck throws his head back, eyes closing and mouth parting to let out moans and gasps, feeling his penis being engulfed by the gummy walls of your tight pussy, hearing the sounds of your cunt sloshing every time their hips come together, every time you collide with him.
rhythmic and enveloping movements, moans intertwining in the hot air generated by your bodies on fire. consumed by desire drowned out by unspoken words. just letting yourself be carried away by the fiery feeling you feel for each other from day one.
donghyuck feels so good inside you that you can't help but speed up your thrusts. take it all sight blurring and darkening with the desire to see him demolish under your body. feel a tingling in the stomach knowing that it is you who has put him like that. a mess, a bunch of grunts and broken words. his hips meeting yours from time to time, unable to contain himself, wanting more of you, to feel full. hands gripping skin, pushing you against him when the sensation is overwhelming and clouding your senses. “shit, hyuck.” your face contracts when you feel the knot tightening your insides.
uncontrollable gasps gush out of your mouth, followed by his name. again and again. fascinated by the way you look, fucking him, moving like that on top of him, looking so masterful and heavenly, his gaze darkens with desire and becomes heavy. “o-oh, yn. you're going to kill me.” your hips relentlessly rocking on his cock, hands locked behind your back as he decides to take over, and thrust into you, tensing your body as much as you can to hold still as he fucks you, so good. dropping you at the last second as you finally release yourself on top of him, collapsing in spasms as his movements become more jerky and clumsy, finally coming a second time. pulling his cock out and spilling his seed on the skin of your ass, feeling his hand milk his cock into you.
nothing is heard except your heavy breathing and the gear of your thoughts as you ponder what has just happened.
he leaves for a few seconds for his clothes, still together on the bathroom floor, and returns with a cloth that you use to clean his load from your skin. dressing without exchanging words. saying anything else as you leave. he doesn't stop you. and something breaks inside you because you let him go for the second time.
you don't know how you get to your building, but it's already dawn. the vodka hasn't been enough to get you drunk but to leave an annoying sharp pain somewhere in your head. you rub your eyes from not having slept at all, looking in your pockets for the key to the apartment, but it's not necessary.
jisung looks at you with slight surprise to see you there in the corridor. “we just arrived,” he says. you have never been close enough to greet each other or ask how the other has been. simple conversations that provide the required information. “i was walking around.” he nods, and you don't know if he believed you because you hardly know him. you see him around campus with his friends, and sometimes in the library, but you don't come over to say hi; you ignore each other's existence most of the time, except when he comes by from time to time for emily, but nothing more. you look at each other and decide that it is time to say goodbye, bowing your heads so slightly that there is hardly any movement. you walk into the apartment once you see him disappear down the elevator, ready to brush your teeth and head off to college in twenty minutes, but stopping when you feel emily's presence in the living room.
she makes no more noise than when she blows her snot. she's wearing a jacket you haven't seen her wear before, so you assume it belongs to the guy who left a few minutes ago. her silhouette is hunched over and she does not look at you despite knowing that you are there. you make threats to withdraw because clearly, you don't know how to comfort anyone, but her voice stops you. “he didn't even look at me. not once."
“i am sorry to hear that.” her gaze drifts from the carpeted floor to look at you. bloodshot eyes from crying until she had run out of another tear. “love suck, doesn't it? you seem to know that” she says, hinting how you never bring boys to the apartment like her. finally getting up from the couch, and coming over to you. you think, for a second, that she's going to hug you, so you freeze there, waiting for it to happen, but it doesn't. “love's not supposed to hurt. we have to let it go, right?” and even though your past actions led you exclusively to the opposite end of her words, you nod and agree with her.
yes, you have to know how to let go.
εїз
you rub your eyes and stare disoriented at the numbers shining on the phone screen. “hello?” you don't know who can possibly be calling you at this hour, still lethargic from your interrupted sleep, you look at the clock that marks two in the morning. “eh! yn.” emily's voice comes over the cell phone. “were you sleeping?” she asks, and even though you don't want to show your irritation, it comes naturally. “yes, emily. others like to sleep at two in the morning sometimes.” but she only laughs, revealing that she's drunk.
“jisung's with you?” you wonder, preoccupied. “no, i lost him. i borrowed a phone. hey! but since you're awake,” she says over the music. “can you check if i left my phone in my bedroom?”
“fuck no!” you complain, exhaling. “i have to get up early tomorrow, ems. i'm sure you can live a little without your phone.” you wait for a response, but she already hangs up.
you go back to bed, ready to fall asleep again but unable to do so. tossing and turning in bed, thinking about emily, worried that something might happen to her. you couldn't live knowing that something had occurred to her because of you. cursing as you get up and grab any piece of clothing within reach, before leaving for the party where she is.
at the time you arrive, it's four in the morning. another day without having proper sleep, accumulating sleepless nights like a collection of your own. passing through people you don't know and that you are sure you need to remember from classes you attend. you find jisung smoking with his friends, approaching him when you don't see emily around. “where is she?” you ask, seeing the smoke he let out of his mouth before answering, and even though he doesn't say it, you know he thinks you're so hypocritical. “probably inside.” you give him a last look before heading inside the house.
your eyes scan all the faces, looking for emily, but you don't find her. instead, you come across the mirage of a tattoo adorning the back of a boy's neck through the sea of people. with his back to you, he seems to be chatting with someone. and you can't physically stand there any longer. forgetting about emily for a moment, debating whether it's worth it or not.
you turn on your heels, jolting by a body colliding with yours, which shakes you out of your conjectures. you come out of your inertia ready to mumble an apology and get the hell out of there before he sees you, but you are stopped by his hand when it lands on your waist without warning. you look, surprised, stupefied, and annoyed at the boy who swigs a bottle of whiskey. taking a prolonged sip of the liquor while rocking his body from side to side, and consequently, yours as well.
then he looks at you, dumbfounded as you snatch the bottle from him and reach for it. the fire of the liquor runs down your throat and fuels the fire in your stomach, furrowing your eyebrows at the tingle it leaves on your tongue. the boy's clearly drunk, looking at you with awe when you stare at him from below, using his spare hand to grab your chin and smash his lips with yours.
and it's the first time, the weight on your chest is relieved. your mind is silenced, and you're just there, kissing a guy while the music plays through the club speakers. everything clicks for a moment, and you finally understand that you can move on. that there is calm after the storm. but you've spent so much time not knowing it, you've gotten used to it.
his mouth tastes like alcohol and something sweet. and you drown yourself in it, quieting your demons. remembering that you are young, and there is so much to experience. hoping you could stop feeling so miserable when you set foot outside, at the thought of rebuilding your life. that you can find something else. that the world is so big… and your thoughts can be so small, they're almost relevant.
but you can't help but open your eyes. and look at him, across the room. with his lips on the girl. but his eyes on you. you unwillingly break the kiss. “fuck, you're fun to kiss, yn.”
you're about to pass on it and go home. this was a bad idea. you can't do it. but you stop yourself.
because your name on his lips reminds you that you exist.
“how do you know my name?” you ask, stunned. the boy smiles. “science,” he mentions, though it sounds more like a question. an amused smile appears on his face as if he finds it funny that you don't remember him, “we see classes together.” you try to remember his face, in the classroom you deliberately ignore since you're ultimately in your head. “and we hooked up last semester.”
“i'm sorry,” you say, but that only makes me smile more.
“i could have expected it,” he replies, “you're way out of my league.” his confession jolts you out of your lethargy like a punch straight to the stomach. he takes the bottle from your hand and takes a swig, watching your reaction to that information. “you're like… halley's comet.”
“you're hardly ever around, but when you do show up, you're breathtaking,” he admits, even now, knowing you didn't put any effort into your image. even now, being a quarter of what you were before. even now, working at 5%, sunk to shit. he finds you special.
he takes your silence as an answer. his hand now caresses your chin, and you see him move closer. resting his lips on yours, he begins to kiss you. but it doesn't last long, because you break it. “i have to go.”
you curse yourself so much that you lose count. unaware of your surrounding and finding yourself in a pit (that you dig yourself) so deep that you forget what you have come for, rubbing your head because it looks like it is going to burst.
you don't see him approaching. he doesn't say a word, neither do you, when he drags you to his car. bodies colliding against the passenger sit door as his face comes closer.
“you should know by now. i don't share.” eyes amusingly glaring at your lips, part open due to shocked events. his words burning on his lips, marking itself on you. watching him breathe raggedly, his body pressing against yours, showing how angry he is. and yet… hands gently resting on your waist, before your body is dragged with his into the front seat of his car. “wait, what are you doing?” you ask him when he slams the door behind him and goes to the driver seat.
“not doing this with you, donghyuck.”
“you don't get to ignore me all year and then appear at my dorm on my birthday.”
“i thought that's what you wanted.”
“don't be a hypocrite.”
you stare at him with a stunned look. “am i the hypocrite? you are as much to blame as i am.” suddenly letting out the pressure on your chest. finally releasing the explosion that for weeks, months, and years has been taking your sleep away. “you did this to yourself,” he eventually says, and you swear something broke inside.
“you walked away, not me.”
“because you always ruin everything.” his words cut you like knives, and he can even believe he said them out loud, keeping them with him until he couldn't hold them anymore.
“you get scared and shut down because that's all you know: to destroy yourself and others,” he accuses, voice escalating in intensity. “you don't concede for a second that you can have anything good for yourself,” he reveals, finally, that you're not the only one who has suffered. “so all you do right now is ruin us.”
“there is no us,” you lie. “why, because i'm not good enough?” but you don't answer, you couldn't. because you never renounce each other. but your silence is taken as something else, something that you don't clear out because you're both interrupted. your phone rings and both pair of eyes glance at the unknown number, but you know who's calling.
“don't answer.” donghyuck voice is only a whisper, but you can sense what he hides underneath: a promise. but you do exactly the opposite, because you need to know. now that you're sincere with one another, there's no going back. but you can only make it if you know she's safe.
“ems, where are you?”
εїз
bodies crashing and stumbling into each other like a hurricane taking everything in its path. hands everywhere, grasping, holding as if the other would disappear if you didn't show each other enough affection. if you didn't show each other how much you wanted each other, how long you had repressed the urge for your mouths to finally come together.
there is no beginning or end. start or finish of where one ends and the other begins, as you devour your essence, tongues and teeth, sucking, sucking, biting. moans and gasp as the other kiss you just like you wanted, where you touch each other just where you need it. pressing your back at the door, without having stopped kissing since you arrived. but you have to tell him. you must or other way you think you might combust. the confession slips out from your lips in a whisper.
“i'm sorry.”
“i don't want to hear it, yn.” he breathes, chest rising and falling as he breathe erratically. “i missed you, i always will,” you reply, sensing him shake his head. “shut up.”
an eternity in each other's mouths, brushing against each other's bodies, grinding your hips together. showing how much he wants you under his jeans. feeling you damped your underwear just by how he's holding you close to him, as you'd run if he held you a little less aggressively.
your body is removed from the wall and forced to intertwine your legs at his hips as he gracefully lifts you off the ground. his firm hands on your ass trace small circles on your skin while his mouth attacks yours in a kiss that can ignite you if he so desires. “donghyuck.” you are deposited on the floor of his room, donghyuck's lips still on you as he takes off your pants and shirt, leaving you in your underwear. he breaks the kiss to remove his jacket. your hands instinctively go to him, but he grabs your wrists and pulls them away. “please...”
“don't do this to me.” his hands grab your wrist as a way to ease himself. lips in a thin line as your eyes try to meet his gaze, but he shuns you. “you're fucking evil.” his grip tighten in your skin, but you endure it because deep inside you, you know you deserve his rage. when he sees you, a chill runs down your spine with his eyes darkening. “hyuck...”
he kisses you now more eagerly, stopping your words. lust merging into anger. touches more violently, all the repressed emotions finally emerging to the surface. he takes your bra with a quick move of his fingers, while the other hand buries inside your underwear. he hums in bliss to know you're already soaking wet. to know that he doesn't need to stretch you for him, seeing how ready you are to take him. fingers running through your folds before stimulating the swollen bulge of your satisfaction. circling your clit as he holds you close when your legs start to tremble. “lay back and spread your legs.” he stops and removes his fingers from you, and takes off the remaining clothing on you.
you hold up a moan and do as he told, not leaving unnoticed the moment when he puts his fingers in his mouth and tastes you on his tongue. laying on the bed while his eyes, consumed in their entirety by his pupils, watch you like a predator watches its prey. stroking his cock with the view of your glassy cunt. hovering you and pressing the tip at your entrance; you let out a wail.
a sweet ardor runs through you when your walls clenched around his penis, pushing it inside you as his eyes shut close. your legs shut together before his strong grip on one of them forces you to spread them again, holding it against the mattress. “you're constantly on my mind,” he states, rolling his hips just like he knows you love it. “a-and i hate it.” your back arch and your mouth slip out a groan.
he thrust you against the bed with energy. heavy breathing as he fucks you right, with the dose of rage and passion you both need it. hands holding you down while he smashes into you, cock hitting you without clemency as your vision blurs while you reveled from the way his dick stuffs you. legs trembling and cunt palpitating when he stops suddenly.
his cock twitched between your walls as shudders invade you and a choked sob fill the room, right before his hands grab both of your legs and flexed them under his forearms. a pant leaves your mouth when you feel his dick burying deeper as he comes closer to you. hovering you, so now his cold chain hits your face. a tingle runs through your core and stays in your stomach when he speaks. “i want to hurt you.” walls wrapping him and squeezing his cock. “i-i wanna hurt you... —just like you hurt me.” your arms surround his shoulders and pull him closer. a sublime message you're not willing to say. «do it», instead, your eyes filled with tears, even though you can't decide whether it's from his words or the raw desire that washes you.
the muffled sound of your damp cunt every time shoved his cock filled the room, already mixed with your loud and heavy breathing. necklace subtly moving over your nose and forehead with his rough thrust. long-drawn groans at every throb of your pussy, swamped and dissolving into ecstasy.
a fire pools low in your belly, panting and quivering under his weight due to his raw and merciless pounding. translating his hands under your back to arch it so he can plow you deeper, a lashing running through your nerves when it's too much, when he's too much. “stay still.” you roar and tense your body, feeling numb and drunk of his dick finding his way in and out of you.
face contracting and a shiver sweeps him. “f—fuck.” his hand go to his under-shaft, curling his fingers around it. feeling lightwave when his thrust slows its pace and grinning to know that he's so close to cum he needs to stop. “turn around.” he lets you go, pulling out his length, twitching in his grip. creamy precum mixed with your fluids on the tip.
you press your chest on the mattress and lift your butt, resting your weight on your flexed arms, spreading your legs for him. a shaky breath leaves your lips when you feel him push himself back into you. sliding his cock all the way in while his hands look for support on your waist, arching you even more. they're removed once he fixed your position and go to each side of your body, hips meeting with a smash sound. your butt lifting so you can meet his body in the middle. “o-oh, h-yuck.” you swear seeing stars, twinkling in your vision. eyes glued to the headboard that smacks against the wall with every movement of his hips.
donghyuck fucks you harder, til your mind shuts down and you can only let out incoherent sounds. wailing and hissing because it's too much to handle, because he's driving you to the edge and not letting you go. holding yourself back because you don't want it to end. you don't want him to part away from you and left you in the dark again.
you catch every single sound he makes. drinking it, saving it in your memory. lips pressed on your ear, hearing him whining as he slow down the pace. struggling to keep it up longer. his hand going to your clit and starting to rub the sensitive area. your hips unconsciously rock against his fingers, feeling your vision foggy.
“you're mine and no one else's” he says, watching you squirm under his weight. “you belong with me. to me.” your hand reach his and you interlace your fingers while he thrusts you eagerly. with the intensity of your confessions now on each other hearts.
“h-hyuck,” you moan his name, unleashing a shot of sensations through your bloodstream. the truth told. revealed. releasing that pressure on your chest and now replaced with his words, printed in your memory.
“always.”
“always.”
your muscle tenses when you feel a white noise fill your hearing. the sweet sharp burn in your area increase due to donghyuck hitting that sweet spot at every thrust. your mouth part open and your face contract with the pleasurable feeling that washes you over, dissolving you in waves and trembles that shake your whole body. your walls squeeze his cock with every throbing spasm that invades you, while you are left in nothingness, ruined and numb, in the ether. sensing his cock pulsing as he relentlessly pounds into you and suddenly stop before you feel something warm filling you up.
“s—shit.” he hisses, weighting what he just done. yet his cock is still bury in you, as the last drop of his load paint your walls. he had never nut inside you. always making sure to pull it out before he cums.
the sensation is new to you. back pressing his chest as you feel it starting to leak out of you. a little smile of joy invades you, which doesn't go unnoticed by donghuyck, who joins you. hips rolling and grinding on him, hearing the splashing sounds of your glistening pussy wrapping around his length.
the room is filled with silence, while you stand there, intertwined. until you must go to the bathroom. your reflection looks miserable but also satisfied. lightweight. suddenly the fear of what are you going to find behind the door invades you, while a hundred questions blossom within you.
will he ask you to stay?
will he let you go again?
are these ephemeral moments all that remains of you, as you hope to discover in the future that you have always been destined?
when you open the bathroom door, his eyes says it all.
εїз
your presence goes unnoticed while he is with his friends. “why a butterfly, tho?” one of them wants to know. his laughter infects the others, but he only manages to make the boy smile fleetingly. “mark, do you want to leave him alone?” says the girl, caressing his bare neck. “i think it's wonderful and romantic,” she says, “butterflies..., yes, i kinda like them.” but the boy doesn't glance at her. not once.
at the other side of the table, jisung looks at her, but she doesn't look back, instead, her eyes transfer to someone else.
emily sees you yet don't wave at you. she never invites you to join the conversation with his friends. she's kind to you because that's what she's supposed to be to her roommate. but she never talks to you, or offers to take you home, or invites you to parties. not really. not entirely.
so she stare at you before removing her eyes as if she hadn't seen you. joining the conversation once again, brushing donghyuck's hair as a attempt to get his attention. but she never received it.
you force yourself to look away and follow your course, entering the corridors of history at the library. being so self-absorbed and abstracted playing with the chain around your neck, that you hardly feel the touch that his hand makes when he passes by your side. he doesn't stop to look at you. and you don't go after him. instead, you stare at the monarch butterfly on his neck, and the sound of his voice calling you nabi softly, only for you to hear.
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"My father was born in 1905 in Bethlehem as an Ottoman citizen with Ottoman identification papers. As a teenager he witnessed the Ottomans being replaced by the British, and suddenly, almost overnight, he became a citizen of Mandate Palestine with a Palestinian passport issued by the British Mandate government. In 1949, when Bethlehem became part of Jordan, he became suddenly a citizen of the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan. And when he died in 1975, he died under Israeli occupation with an ID card issued by Israel. But he was the same person throughout those geo-political vicissitudes and had no choice but to adjust to changing political and imperial realities.
Throughout Palestinian history empires have occupied the land for a certain number of years but were then forced to leave. Most of the time an empire departed only to make space for another empire. The majority of the native people of the land seldom left. Throughout history and starting with the Assyrian Exile, only a small minority was deported, and only a small percentage decided to leave. The vast majority of the native people remained in the land of their forefathers (2 Kgs 25:11). They remained the Am Haaretz, the native 'People of the Land,' in spite of the diverse empires controlling that land. This is why in this book I choose the people of the land as the description for the native inhabitants throughout history, for it is they who are the enduring continuum.
Their identity, however, was forced to change and develop according to the new realities and empires in which they found themselves. They changed their language from Aramaic to Greek to Arabic, while their identity shifted from Canaanite, to Hittite, to Hivite, to Perizzite, to Girgashite, to Amorite, to Jebusite, to Philistine, Israelite, Judaic/Samaritan, to Hasmonaic, to Jewish, to Byzantine, to Arab, to Ottoman, and to Palestinian, to mention some. The name of the country also changed from Canaan to Philistia, to Israel, to Samaria and Juda, to Palestine. ... And yet they stayed, throughout the centuries, and remained the people of the land with a dynamic identity. In this sense Palestinians today stand in historic continuity with biblical Israel. The native people of the land are the Palestinians. The Palestinian people (Muslims, Christians, and Palestinian Jews) are a critical and dynamic continuum from Canaan to biblical times, from Greek, Roman, Arab, and Turkish eras up to the present day. They are the native peoples, who survived those empires and occupations, and they are also the remnant of those invading armies and settlers who decided to remain in the land to integrate rather than to return to their original homelands. The Palestinians are the accumulated outcome of this incredible dynamic history and these massive geo-political developments."
Mitri Raheb, Faith in the Face of Empire: The Bible Through Palestinian Eyes (2012)
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The Stalls of Barchester (Lawrence Gordon Clark, 1971)
A Warning to the Curious (Lawrence Gordon Clark, 1972)
Lost Hearts (Lawrence Gordon Clark, 1973)
The Treasure of Abbot Thomas (Lawrence Gordon Clark, 1974)
The Ash Tree (Lawrence Gordon Clark, 1975)
“For all five of these adaptations, Gordon Clark worked with cinematographer John McGlashan and sound recordist Dick Manton, who he credits with establishing the gloomy look that would be the hallmark of the series (as well as editor Roger Waugh who edited all the original series’ James adaptations save 1973’s ‘Lost Hearts’). Central to that aesthetic were the authentic East Anglian locations that have been the inspiration for many a terror tale, even aside from those of M.R. James.
‘James lived in East Anglia—the region that encompasses Norfolk and Suffolk—for most of his life,’ explains Helen Wheatley, citing this as one reason James set many of his stories there. ‘However, there is also a broader sense of the region as being rather out on a limb, a relative hinterland, which lends itself to ghost story telling,’ she continues. ‘In James’ stories, and their television adaptations, the geography and landscape of the region—expanses of flat land, the whispering grasses of the East Anglian coast line, sparsely populated agricultural land—has a particularly haunting quality.’
This landscape is key to the series’ hauntological appeal. Scholar Derek Johnston has an extensive catalogue of writing that examines nostalgia in relation to the Christmas ghost story—and the A Ghost Story for Christmas series in particular—and notes that the Victorian middle class idealization of rural life was subverted by James’ stories, which presented the country as peaceful on the surface but a place of dark, tumultuous secrets. He also points out that East Anglia is a land of invaders and colonizers, writing in his essay ‘Season, Landscape and Identity in the BBC Ghost Story for Christmas’ that ‘The connection to the local soil and landscape runs generations deep, but it has also been built upon the remains of earlier populations, with earlier connections to that landscape, overrun by the incomers...the landscape may encourage identification with the nation, but it also emphasises how the landscape is interpreted through the history of human action upon it.’” — Kier-La Janisse, from Yuletide Terror: Christmas Horror on Film and Television (2017).
#lawrence gordon clark#kier la janisse#yuletide terror: christmas horror on film and television#w*#caps#mr james christmas
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A LITTLE GUN HISTORY FIRST POSTED in 2015
In 1929, the Soviet Union established gun control. From 1929 to 1953, about 20 million dissidents, unable to defend themselves, were rounded up and exterminated.
In 1911, Turkey established gun control. From 1915 to 1917, 1.5 million Armenians, unable to defend themselves, were rounded up and exterminated.
Germany established gun control in 1938 and from 1939 to 1945, a total of 13 million Jews and others who were unable to defend themselves were rounded up and exterminated.
China established gun control in 1935. From 1948 to 1952, 20 million political dissidents, unable to defend themselves were rounded up and exterminated.
Guatemala established gun control in 1964. From 1964 to 1981, 100,000 Mayan Indians, unable to defend themselves, were rounded up and exterminated.
Uganda established gun control in 1970. From 1971 to 1979, 300,000 Christians, unable to defend themselves, were rounded up and exterminated.
Cambodia established gun control in 1956. From 1975 to 1977, one million educated people, unable to defend themselves, were rounded up and exterminated.
56 million defenseless people rounded up and exterminated in the 20th Century because of gun control:
You won't see this data on the US evening news, or hear politicians disseminating this information.
Guns in the hands of honest citizens save lives and property and, yes, gun-control laws adversely affect only the law-abiding citizens.
Take note my fellow Americans, before it's too late!
The next time someone talks in favor of gun control, please remind them of this history lesson.
With guns, we are "citizens". Without them, we are "subjects".
During WWII the Japanese decided not to invade America because they knew most Americans were ARMED!
If you value your freedom, please spread this antigun-control message to all of your friends.
SWITZERLAND ISSUES EVERY HOUSEHOLD A GUN!
SWITZERLAND'S GOVERNMENT TRAINS EVERY ADULT THEY ISSUE A RIFLE.
SWITZERLAND HAS THE LOWEST GUN RELATED CRIME RATE OF ANY CIVILIZED COUNTRY IN THE WORLD!!!
IT'S A NO BRAINER!
DON'T LET OUR GOVERNMENT WASTE MILLIONS OF OUR TAX DOLLARS IN AN EFFORT TO MAKE ALL LAW ABIDING CITIZENS AN EASY TARGET.
Spread the word everywhere you can that you are a firm believer in the 2nd Amendment!
It's time to speak loud before they try to silence and disarm us.
You're not imagining it, history shows that governments always manipulate tragedies to attempt to disarm the people.
~ Saerges Son ~
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I got this ask on main but thought I'd pick it up here, my comics history/fashion ramble blog. I'd been wondering this exact same thing recently, and Google initially wasn't much help—Rocketeer replica jackets describe themselves only as "Rocketeer jackets" and the one Lobster Johnson cosplay thread just suggested ordering one of those.
The most curious part is the double seam and horizonal row of buttons that mark out the entire front as possibly being an unbuttonable "bib", like a plastron front. (Please don't ask how late in the game I worked out that "plastron" is the right word for that.)
The closest genuine Golden Age example of a plastron jacket I found was the military tunic style uniform of Blackhawk, created in 1941.
(Pics from the '52 movie serial (right) really show how awkward it is to combine open lapels + plastron. On a double breasted coat, that chest panel IS the bottom lapel, folded shut.)
Here's the thing: This outfit mirrors that of the Nazi ace pilot he fights in the origin issue, von Tepp (middle). And compare further to the far right: real life WWI flying ace Manfred von Richthofen, AKA the Red Baron, in imperial German Uhlan (lance cavalry) uniform.
"The Germans had designed such great costumes, we decided to use them ourselves," co-creator Cuidera is quoted as saying in Steranko's History of Comics, which (more dubiously, in my opinion) compares the look to the Gestapo or SS. Breeches or jodhpurs weren't strictly a Nazi thing at the time, but they do add to the overall effect.
Compare two other military tunic themed costumes from 1940, on Captain Marvel and Bucky Barnes. These are asymmetrically buttoned, and switch to a more classic circus strongman look below the waist.
But somewhere around 1975, with the Invaders book, Bucky gets a buttoned bib! There's something infectious about it—the symmetry, maybe. (Even re: the characters we started with; Mignola didn't draw Lobster Johnson with buttons down the right side, but every artist after does. And Spider-Noir wore a sweater under his coat until Shattered Dimensions introduced the double-breasted vest.)
If it didn't reach his belt, Barnes' button-on front + shirt collar combo would resemble a bib-front western shirt, like the one that became the Rawhide Kid's signature look in '56. (Or Texas Twister's in '76.)
This shirt entered the old-West-obsessed public imagination in the 1940s/50s largely because John Wayne wore it in several cowboy movies. In reality it was rare among cowboys, more common with firefighters and civil war era militia.
Military tunics, Western shirts, alright, but does anything match the style and material and era, or are these jackets a total anachronism? I tried looking into 1930s leather flight jackets and was surprised when the closest-looking results were marked as Luftwaffe.
It took me a bit to work out why: USAF and RAF issued standard flight jackets with a center closure. The Luftwaffe instead let their pilots buy non-standardized ones. The 'weird' double-breasted black German flight jackets were in fact fairly normal (but repurposed) motorcycle racing jackets.
Far left is an English biker's jacket that dates back to the 1920s. Even without the bib, this may be as close as you'll get to an authentic Rocketeer. The jodhpurs were pretty common to complete the look. (What was an early motorcycle anyways, if not a weird metal horse?) The first biker jacket with the now iconic off-center diagonal zip was designed in America in 1928 and yet as far as I can tell, not a single actual pre-war pulp hero wore one.
The greatest weakness of this post is that I haven't been able to find any of these artists' notes on how, exactly, they arrived at similar versions of this iconic Pulp Front Panel Jacket. I'm sure I've missed some things. But as far as I can tell, this jacket is an odd bit of convergent stylistic evolution from the above influences that's picked up enough momentum to now be self-perpetuating.
The problem with pulp heroes is that for the most part, they just wore clothes. The appeal of this jacket is actually very similar to what the 1940s thought the appeal of the bib-front shirt in westerns was: It's alien enough to feel "old". It looks like something invented before zippers or synthetic fabrics. It looks formal and militant but also renegade, rebellious. It also looks a little mad-sciencey*. It's a costume, but you can nearly fool yourself into thinking the past was weird enough that you could find something this cool on the rack.
If I wanted to end on some grand point, I could try to argue that there's a thematic throughline between fascist fashion, John Wayne movies, and throwback pulp. A manufactured aesthetic valorizing the violence of a fictional golden age... but I think the noir stylings of the post-Rocketeer comics in this lineup mean that, at least on some level, they know the "good guys" didn't dress like this.
*If I had another couple weeks of time to burn, I'd try to trace the visual history of the Howie coat in popular culture and investigate its possible connections to this. Alas, I do actually have a life.
#thank you for reading. also don't read golden age blackhawks the racism is awful even by era standards.#comics history#costume taxonomy#<- forgot I had that tag.#not to be like ''in MY favorite comics...'' again but may I point out that Hellboy and Robo and Tom Strong just wear... clothes#like. yknow. A pulp series that had confidence in itself rather than trying to cosplay as eras it thinks were cooler might do-#[I am yanked offstage before I can restart that rant]#the rocketeer
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it’s a date...maybe
Word count: 1975
A/N: hi!!! so the talk show blurb got a bit of love and some of you wanted a part two so here it is. I hope you like it, please let me know if you do. it would mean so much to me. happy reading, amores!
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You were nervous.
Your time in London will be limited for now. There were interviews you had to do, the job of promoting was never short. Having a new film debuting soon and doing interviews with the cast of The White Lotus, your schedule was booked and busy that does not mean you didn’t have time for coffee.
After the surprise facetime call on Jimmy Fallon with Harry Styles, they stayed in communication. We sent a few texts back and forth until Harry confessed he felt he wasn’t the best at texting, so we resorted to talking on the phone. It felt juvenile, but you liked the intimacy it brought you. Harry’s voice was soothing, and you found yourself hanging onto his every word. When there were moments of silence, you’d ask him another question because you loved hearing him talk. Harry seemed to catch on after a bit.
“Not that I don’t like telling you about myself, but I want to hear from you,” he told her over facetime, having finished a story about the secret present they got his mum, and he, of course, spoiled minutes before she could open the gift.
You look away bashfully from the screen, “I like your voice,” you confess. “I find it soothing, could listen to you all day.”
Harry giggles, “that’s a relief, means I’m on the right career path.”
You chuckle. He was so smooth; it all seemed to come easy to Harry. When Harry asked you a question, your mind went blank because he still made you nervous. You’re not sure if you had that effect on him. It didn’t seem so.
Talking on the phone was less intimidating than meeting in person. Harry had proposed a date to meet for coffee in a shop near his house. Dinner was what he had initially proposed, but it seemed your schedules were booked in the evenings. So, Harry proposed coffee and promised it wasn’t one of those chain coffee shops and that there would be good coffee and pastries.
He hadn’t called it a date, but why did it feel like one. He simply wanted to meet you, that is all. You were mutual fans of each other and would be getting coffee, that simple. Yet, your hands could not stop sweating. Having lived in London for a few years, you were thankful you listened to your mom when she said to get your license. It made getting around from place to place more accessible and allowed you not to rely on anyone.
Walking into the coffee shop, you walked in and instantly relaxed. Only two people were inside the shop, not counting the employees; one was Harry. He was sitting at a corner table with a view of the garden of flowers the shop had out front. He was quick to stand up when he realized you had walked in.
“Y/N, hi.” He greeted you and raised his hand for you to shake while you opened your arms for a hug. You both froze for a second, and he laughed when he saw the panic on your face.
“I’m sorry, that was so rude of me.” You run a hand down your face, embarrassed, hoping the ground would open up and swallow you. “My mom’s a hugger, and it seems I am too.”
“I could go for a hug,” Harry answered generously.
You allowed yourself to meet his eye and saw he was telling the truth. He opens his arms for you to walk into, and after double-checking, you wrap your arms around his waist while his hands settle on your back. It’s a warm embrace, and you quickly find yourself sinking into him. You aren’t sure how long the hug lasts, but you break it when you feel you’ve invaded his space for too long.
“It’s nice to officially meet you, Harry.” You tell him, taking a seat across from him.
Harry grins, and you melt in your seat when you get a flash of his dimple. He had a perfect smile, and it made you wonder what his lips could possibly taste like. You pushed away those thoughts because here you were, meeting Harry for the first time, and were thinking of kissing him.
“You as well, Y/N. It has been lovely getting to know you,” he shares.
You nod in agreement, “it’s all thanks to you for saying yes to surprise me.”
Harry scratched his eyebrow, and it’s then you noticed a red tint take over his face. He was blushing. “To be honest, I did it hoping to meet you.”
You bite back a smile. Harry has you feeling like a teenage girl wanting to squeal at his every word. “Well, it seems you succeeded.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask if you wanted a drink.”
“Think introductions were more important.”
He taps his fingers against the table, his rings glimmering through the bit of sunshine peeking in. “Do you trust me to choose a drink for you?”
“Hmm…” you ponder it for a second. “Yeah, I trust you.”
Harry gets up, promising he’ll be a few minutes. You take the time to get a look at him. He’s dressed casually. In laid-back ripped jeans, a white top, and a pale yellow cardigan. His large green jacket hanging off the back of his chair. You see him chat with the barista, sharing a shy grin, waving goodbye, and leaving a tip in the half-full tip jar.
“Madam, this is for you,” he places a cup in front of you and one for him. Then places two pastries on the table, a cranberry score and a brownie. “Both treats are vegan. Hope that’s okay.”
You thank Harry as he settles back down across from you. You hide a smile as you see Harry observing you, taking a sip of the coffee he got for you. You hum in appreciation. It’s perfect, exactly how you take it. He seemed to remember what you liked when you mentioned having coffee with a friend, it was one of your earliest conversations.
“It’s perfect. Thank you, Harry. How much do I owe you?”
Harry waves you off, “my treat.”
You raise your coffee as a cheers to Harry. “Thank you.”
You don’t let the fact that he paid for coffee go to your head. You’ve treated your friends to coffee and never considered it a date. It’s fine you’ll enjoy coffee with Harry, and then both go your separate ways.
Harry offers you the first bite of the brownie, and you let out a quiet moan at the taste filling your mouth. You feel your face flush, knowing that Harry heard you, his cheeks now red as he takes a piece of the scone. Before you can apologize, Harry asks how your stay in London has been and where you’re planning to go next.
Conversation with him flows effortlessly. It is as if you were reuniting with an old friend and not meeting for the first time. Harry told you how close he is to his mother and sister and how he doesn’t go home as much as he wishes but makes sure to call them once a day. He shared about his growing car collection. You share about having an older brother, and Harry laughs, saying you both can relate to being the younger sibling. You go on to tell him about the first time you got a tattoo, drunk with your best friend but don’t dare tell him the placement, just that the morning after was something you laughed at for the longest time.
Being with Harry is a nice reminder that you can be the biggest fan of someone and sometimes forget to see them as a person or expect something from them. Harry, when he’s on stage, he’s this charismatic, sexy rockstar that has you dying for a moment with them, but that’s Harry Styles. The Harry sitting in front of you is shy, kind, and beautiful. He gives you his undivided attention, always staring into your eyes. It’s the safest place you could be. You’re thankful he reached out to give you a chance to get to know him.
You don’t know much he knows about you or if he’s read tabloids on you. The fact that you’re constantly seen going out with people from men to women but never confirm anything because most times it’s you with a friend or a family member, but the tabloids don’t care. They sell the story they want, not the truth. The fact is that you don’t play into tabloids. You live your authentic life because it’s tiring hiding from cameras all the time. You rather keep being yourself every day because you’re already someone else when you’re in front of a camera acting.
“You’re really funny, Harry,” you tell him after sobering up from the joke he just told.
Harry’s grin widens, “wish you could tell my sister that.”
“Call her up, tell her right now,” you joke.
He giggles, shaking his head. His phone rings signs that he just received a text message, and it’s the first time he glances at his phone and catches a look at the time. He sighs. It’s clear the bubble the two of you were in has popped, and you now have to go back into the world.
“I had the loveliest time with you, Y/N. Don’t think I’ve spent two hours in a coffee shop since my time in Japan.” He shares as you both get up and put your coats on. The workers had stopped earlier and cleared your table.
“Oh, Japan,” you raise an eyebrow in question. “You’ll have to tell me about that sometime.”
Harry blushes, but you’re not sure why he only nods, promising he will. You walk in front of him, Harry right behind you. His hand hovers over the small of your back, and you find it sweet that he’s considerate enough to help but respect boundaries. You give the workers a quick goodbye, and Harry follows you to your car.
He stands in front of you with his hands tucked in his pocket as you both wait for one of you to begin the goodbye.
“I had a nice time with you as well, Harry.” You remembered you didn’t repeat the sentiment inside, too intrigued by Japan.
“It was a nice first date, I think,” his face is quick to flush red, but his eyes remain locked on yours.
He was smooth.
Thank goodness you’re an actress because you’re able to hide the shock of him calling your time together a date. You take a step closer to Harry and give him a sweet smile, “it was really nice,” you promise him.
“I hope we can do a second date before you leave at the end of the week.”
You think about it for a second, not wanting to seem eager, but know you fail when Harry catches the smile that bloomed on your face. “I’d like that.”
“We could do dinner?” He suggests.
“Are you cooking?”
Harry laughs; he runs his hand down your arm until he reaches your fingers he gives you a light squeeze. “If that’s what you’d like.”
“I could bring dessert,” you offer. “Oh, and wine.”
“Can’t forget the wine.”
Harry leaned in, giving you a kiss on your cheek. You felt warm inside, god he was smooth. “I’ll call you tonight.” He promises.
You hum in acknowledgment, still lost in the haze of his lingering kiss.
“Drive safe, Y/N darling.”
“Have a nice walk home, Harry.”
They walk away from each other with large smiles on their faces. They’re so lost in their heads they fail to notice the paparazzi snapping photos of them from across the street.
It seemed they’d have something else to navigate together.
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feel free to send me a message of what you loved, what was your favorite part and if you want to see more of them 💜
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles fluff#harry styles imagine#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles blurb#harry story#harry blurb#harry love#harry x reader#harry imagine#harry fluff#harry one shot#pleasing#harry styles x y/n#harry x you#harry styles fic rec
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Brad Simpson on Twitter said:
Historian of US foreign policy here. One of the core functions of US diplomacy towards client states engaging in mass murder is denial of death tolls. I cannot think of a single example of simple acknowledgment of client state atrocities since 1945. A few examples:
When Indonesia invaded East Timor in 1975, with US military and diplomatic backing, its armed forces killed 50-100k civilians in the first 12 months (roughly 15% of the population). US officials flatly denied the scope and scale of killing: (Source)
In Dec. 1981 a US backed El Salvadoran special forces unit massacred more than 800 civilians amidst the Salvadoran civil war. The Reagan Administration, led by Elliot Abrams, initially just denied the massacre or blamed FMLN guerrillas. [Link]
We can find dozens of similar examples over the last 40 years. More recently the Trump (and now Biden Admin) denied the scope and scale of US backed Saudi atrocities and killings in Yemen, where Saudi Arabia has killed more than 100,000 civilians: [Link]
The point here is simple. The US government, under Democratic and Republican Administrations, *will always deny atrocities* carried out by client states and allies and use its diplomatic and media influence to this end. We should expect the Biden Admin to lie in this way.
It’s worth noting that no US government since has initially acknowledged an Israeli massacre or atrocity. Its reflexive response is to back Israeli denials. If anyone can think of one, please post. I cannot think of a single one since the 1982 Israeli invasion of Lebanon.
(posted Oct. 25)
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Ross MacDonald Imagine
Summary: In which you and your sweet husband Ross find out you're having a baby and tell the rest of the band.
Warnings: A few swear words, that's it.
Author's Note: A result of me not being able to finish my George piece, getting frustrated at my Matty piece and not finishing that too. This is just sweet fucking fluff and now I want a cute domestic family life with my sweet husband Ross and I'm going to cry over how that isn't my current life.
Before you read this. I've never been pregnant so there is no in depth writing about the intricacies of being pregnant. Mentions of food once. I googled if pregnant women could eat it, they can. Apart from that... Enjoy dilf Ross!
I don't know why I'm nervous to post this but enjoy!
Word Count: 4.1K Words
You met Ross MacDonald when you were eleven years old and starting Wilmslow high school before being the bassist in the Brit Award winning The 1975 was even a blip on his radar. You wouldn’t have called yourselves friends per say as you ran in different friend groups during your time at school but you knew he was friends with your neighbour Matty, so once they had decided to form a band, you saw him around a little more. Not that you were complaining as he was one half of the calm alongside Adam to the chaos that was Matthew and their newly acquired drummer George.
You liked him. He was sweet, well as sweet as a teenage boy could be and he always made you laugh whenever you saw him. Growing closer to his group of friends as you all started to become the age of house parties and underage drinking. You'd even made out with Adam during a drinking game once when you were sixteen, not that Matty ever let you forget. He loves to tease the three of youof that moment including Ross; that his missus had kissed Hann before him. Alight flush always dancing across Hann’s cheeks, usually as he shakes his head at the constant teasing you endure from Matty. Even when you’re in your sixties, you two were never going to live that down!
Then you went to university in Manchester; not far from home but far (and busy) enough that the only person you saw was Matty on the occasions you were home due to him being next door. Upon graduating; you moved to London with your newly appointed graduate job at the creative agency you had secured, a move that you swore you’d never do. You were a northern soul through and through but you stayed down there for five years before you moved back to the North.
By this time; the band had already released a string of EPs and were gearing up to release their debut album in the time you had started your own career. Chasing the dreams you always heard them talk about when you were kids and you felt a warmth of pride in your chest when you thought about the annoying kid next door who would make a racket in his garage with his mates becoming the successful band they always dreamed of becoming. You were so proud even if it had been years since you had seen them all together.
You wouldn’t get the chance to see them again properly until they came home in the autumn of 2015 before the release of their sophomore album.
You bumped into an old friend from high school in big Tesco not long after you had moved back to Cheshire and they invited you to a small get together they were holding that weekend. Just drinks, nothing crazy like the old days but it would be nice to catch up with everyone but the wink Josh sent your way as you were saying goodbye caused you you to think casual drinks would be the last thing that was going to happen.
When you had arrived at the party, the house was full of people you hadn’t seen in years. So definitely not casual drinks! You had just managed to push your way through to the kitchen when some one was yanking you backwards at full speed and throwing themselves at you at full force. A head of curls tickling the side of your face and a familiar aftershave he always wore invading your senses, you knew it was Matthew before you even saw his face. You manage to squeeze him back tightly before he pulled away from you grinning.
“Sweetheart! Ohhh how I’ve missed you!” He wailed dramatically.
“You don’t have time to miss me Mr Rockstar!” You had smirked at him; pulling him with you as you searched for a corkscrew for your wine.
“Of course I have!” He furrowed his eyebrows. “I was always fond of my pretty neighbour you know!” It was his turn to smirk as he leant against he counter, watching as you poured yourself a generous glass of wine.
“Yeah, whatever you say Healy!” You laughed; rolling your eyes at him teasingly.
“Hey! There’s something I want to show you!” Matty smiled brightly; taking your hand and pulling you through all your other old classmates until he came to an abrupt halt in another busy room. “Look who I’ve found!”
Matty stepped aside and that’s when you saw him properly for the first time since you were a teenager. Stood in the corner of the room, his conversation with George stopping when his eyes landed on you. The two of them beaming brightly before ascending on you for reacquaintance.
It was like time stood still and ohhh had time been good to Ross MacDonald. Standing at six foot four, dark hair styled to perfection and an impressive beard sat upon his handsome features. You couldn’t help but drink him in, he was simply divine not that you would ever tell him that. There was no way he would want you plus he probably had a girlfriend anyway, not a chance he didn’t have women lining up for him when he was as handsome as he was.
Turns out he thought the exact same when his eyes landed on you for the first time in years.
He let George hug you first; the bassist drinking in your features. You hadn’t changed a bit, your youthful looks still evident in the glow you emitted and probably more beautiful than he remembered. Finally reaching over to wrap his arms around you, Ross braved it and pressed a kiss to your cheek with a soft “You look beautiful darling.” Before standing up to full height next to George as you quickly fell into easy conversation.
You spent the next hour listening to all their tales of travelling the world, getting to play Glastonbury and how much they loved their fans and how they couldn’t believe they had fans all over the world. You could believe it. You’d never tell them but you secretly loved listening to them make all that noise as they were figuring out who they were during your youth. You couldn’t help but feel that warmth spread through you as you absorbed everything they were saying. Your noisy boys from next door had done all of this in the past two years. It was insane!
Within that hour Hann had appeared out of no where; very quietly in typical Adam fashion, greeted you with a warm hug and took Matty’s teasing like a champ before slinking off into the crowd with a promise of catching up properly when it was less noisy. George and Matty both quickly disappeared to smoke a joint at the back of Josh’s garden also in typical Matty and George fashion and then there were two.
After refilling your wine and grabbing another beer for himself, the pair of you slinked back to the corner you found him in. Where you stayed for the majority of the night; stood close with his hand on the small of your back as you leaned in close so you could hear one another. You were completely enamoured by your childhood friend; who had grown into this incredibly handsome, sweet and talented man who also seemed to not be able to draw his eyes away from you.
You exchanged numbers that night with promises of keeping in touch and in all honesty you weren’t expecting much to happen. The band weren’t home for very long and then they were going back to their very busy schedule; a tour to go on, an album to be released and you didn’t know when you’d see any of them next. You were expecting a text every few weeks, months if you were lucky from Ross or from any of them if you were being realistic. They weren’t going to have time for their old school friend.
Ross called you the morning after.
He called the very next morning and asked if you’d go for lunch with him.
You’ve been with him ever since.
You’ve loved him every day since.
You and Ross had been together just under six years and married for just under two when you found out. But it didn’t make it any less scary to the fact that you were going to bring another human into this world. The band were the biggest they’ve ever been, even with them being stuck at home due to a global pandemic but you were knew he was about to jet off again once the new album they were about to go and write was released. How were you going to look after a baby when the father of your child was on the other side of the world and you were left to figure it out as a single mother?
Sitting on the edge of the bathtub in your ensuite, you nervously played with your wedding rings as you waited for the timer to go off. Your husband downstairs, unaware that your lives might be about to change forever. You had been feeling a little under the weather the past week or so and had been nauseous the past couple of days, you didn’t even think to take a pregnancy test until your best friend had mentioned it, just to rule the possibility out.
The shrill beeping of the timer on your phone rang through your bathroom and had you snapping your head in the direction of where the test sat neatly next to your phone. You quickly turned it off. Taking a deep breath, you shakily reached for the test in front of you. Flipping it over in your hands before finally feeling brave; you turned it over, the breath you were unaware you had been holding making your whole body shudder as you let it go.
The words ‘8 weeks +’ glaring back at you.
A sob ripped through your chest, your vision immediately blurred thanks to the tears that were now rolling down your face. You and Ross were going to have a baby. You were going to have a child with your sweet husband who was down stairs cooking you chicken noodle soup because he thought you’d caught a stomach bug. The image of him downstairs innocently making you lunch, a tea towel slung over his shoulder and humming to himself had you sobbing even more. God you loved him so much.
After another five minutes of staring at the positive test, you managed to pull yourself together enough to make your way downstairs and see your husband. As imagined, you were greeted with his back to you, hunched over the stove with a tea towel flung over his shoulder as predicted and his ever growing hair falling in front of his eyes as he tested the soup.
“Baby?” You spoke softly.
Ross glanced quickly over his shoulder at the sound of your voice, a soft smile on his face as he took in your appearance. Joggers and a hoodie you had stolen from him many moons ago, before you were married, that you had claimed as your own and never returned to him. They looked better on you anyway.
“Baby. I’m not sick.”
“You’re feeling better?” He stood up taller; switching the hob off, reaching for you as you shook your head before nervously holding out the test.
Ross’s eyes flitted towards the test in your hand and back to your face and back again before taking it from you slowly. You watched his Adam’s apple bob as he eyed the ‘8 weeks +’ that was staring him straight in the face. God, did he even want kids right now? Your anxiety was starting to bubble away in your chest, an impending panic attack on the horizon the longer he didn’t say anything but in hindsight it was probably only ten seconds before his large frame came crashing into you, pulling you tightly into his chest.
Soft “I love you. I love you. I love you”s were chanted against the shell of your ear before he took your face in his hands and kissing you so deeply you felt your knees buckle underneath you; the only reason you were still standing being Ross was physically holding you up.
“We’re going to have a baby.” Ross’s voice soft as he held your face in his hands, looking at you like you hung the moon and the stars. Your teary eyes looked up at him, nodding before you were kissing him just like you did after your first date. With everything in you.
This was your person. Your man. Your lobster. He was it for you and you had magically created life with him. You didn’t realise you could love him anymore until you found out you were going to bring the most perfect little human into the world and you knew they would be perfect because they were half of your darling Ross.
Immediately booking an appointment with the midwife as soon as you could, you both just as quickly jumped into planning mode. Ordering books online, thinking of how you could reconfigure your spare bedroom into a nursery, colour palettes for said nursery, making lists of everything that were good and bad for the baby. You and your husband couldn’t think of anything else apart from the baby you had just discovered was in your tummy.
At your appointment; Ross held your hand tightly, repeatedly pressing kisses to your knuckles whilst the doctors ran tests and confirmed that you were further along than you both expected and that you’d be actually entering your second trimester in just under two weeks. Your eyes found your husbands instantly when they told you this information, his eyes already on yours and a knowing smirk making its way on to both of your faces when you realised.
Your little New Year’s baby.
Drunk on love and all the alcohol Matty had provided at his house to ring in the new year with you and his other nearest and dearest, you remember fucking in Matty’s bathroom way before midnight. Not for any particular reason other than you were insatiable around your husband, that and he looked so fucking good in the shirt he was wearing you couldn’t wait until you got home and then he fucked you into the early hours of the New Year once you got home and again when you woke up, reminding you just how much he loved you.
You weren’t exactly trying for a baby but you weren’t exactly safe all the time. But you had known Ross half of your life at this point and you had been with him for six. You trusted him with your life. If you were going to start a family with anyone on the planet, you wouldn’t want it to be with anyone else but the man who was holding your hand and holding back tears as he listened to the doctor. Now the reality of it had settled into your home, you discussed how you were going to tell the rest of the boys. Settling on the dinner party the Hann’s had organised for next week to celebrate Matty’s upcoming birthday as the base for said pregnancy reveal. You just had to figure out how you were going to do it now.
When the day finally arrived to see your friends; you couldn’t contain the cocktail of emotions that ran through you the entire day as you milled about the house, the excitement that you get to share the news with your best friends. The anxiety in the car on the way over to Adam and Carly’s; Ross’ hand laying across your thigh as you drove, how would the others react? Would they be happy for you? The nerves as Ross squeezed your hand reassuringly as you both waited to be greeted by the Hann’s; would the band hate you because you would now be his number one priority?
If you asked Ross, you had always been his first priority but the nerves evaporated the moment the door swung open and you were greeted by Adam and Carly who were beaming at the sight of you.
Stepping into their home; you exchanged greetings and allowed the guitarist to pull you into a sweet hug and press a kiss to your cheek before pulling back to look at your properly. He studied you for a moment but didn’t do much but flit his eyes towards Ross who had just finished saying hello and hugging his own wife before turning back to you and smiling.
“It’s lovely to see you darling. You’re glowing!”
You felt a soft blush creep across your cheeks at the compliment before allowing your husband to pull you into the living room where the troublesome twosome were giggling over something on George’s phone when they spotted you. Both of them whipping their heads up at the sight of you both, Matty immediately beamed at you before he jumped over George’s feet to get to you.
“Pretty girl! It’s been so long! How are you darling?! That husband of yours treating you right?” He smirked; pulling you into his arms.
“Yeah! He does alright!” You chuckled; returning his affection before the six of you made your way into the dining room ready for whatever amazing food the Hann’s had cooked up for you.
Your husband pulled your chair out for you just like he always did; he is and always had been the perfect gentleman, kissing his cheek in appreciation you tucked yourself in as he took his place next to you. George next to you on the end, Matty opposite you, leaving the Hann’s in between the lead singer and the bassist when they returned from the kitchen.
Politely declining the wine Matty was offering; which didn’t go unnoticed quietly by the singer. You were always his partner in crime when it came to devouring a bottle(s) of wine when you were together. Claiming that you were driving and you could feel a migraine on the horizon, Matty nodded sympathetically knowing more than anyone that he hated having to socialise when he had an headache and luckily he let it go.
You let out the breath you didn’t know you had been holding, rubbing your sweaty palm against the fabric of your dress, your heart beat calming as soon as Ross’ hand slipped into your own and bringing it to rest in his lap just as Adam and Carly started bringing out dinner plates. Thanking Adam as he placed yours in front of you; a happy sigh left you as the aroma filled your nose, immediately grinning up at the guitarist when you clocked he had made one of your favourite things. Truffle risotto.
As you all prepared to tuck into your food; a round of cheers echoed around the dining room as you wished Matty a happy birthday before digging in to your dinner. A moan of satisfaction arising from next to you; George groaning as he waved his spoon about for dramatic effect.
“Fuck! You might have even out cooked Honey and she’s basically Gordon fucking Ramsey!” George exclaimed; before turning to you. “This is good shit! Sorry Honey!”
You just shrugged. “Meh I’ll let you off Daniels but only cause this is fucking divine! This music thing ever goes tits up for you, you’ll come be my personal chef right Ads?!” Sending everyone into a fit of giggles as Adam blushed at your compliment.
As the night moved on to desserts and more wine (not for yourself of course) and a birthday cake for Matty. You couldn’t help the bright smile on your face as a blush of embarrassment flushed across Matty’s cheeks as you all sang Happy Birthday to him horrendously badly. The way he hid beneath his hands as you cheered loudly sent a rush of endorphins through you.
Then Adam and Carly stood up.
Your eyebrows furrowed; wondering they were stood there in what seemed to be a nervous manner. Their behaviour so unlike the usual calm and peaceful energy that they bring to the group.
“Ehhh…” Adam coughed. “We’ve got something to tell you all.”
There was a beat before Carly spoke.
“We’re having a baby!”
You head snapped towards your husband. Ross doing the same and finding your eyes immediately. Eyes swimming with emotion; yours threatening to spill as your heart rate picked up as you sat speechless, as the noise of Matty and George congratulating the couple surrounded you. Standing quickly; you manoeuvred yourself past your husband to hug your friends tightly. Whispering your congratulations to Carly before turning to grab Hann and pull him into the biggest embrace you could muster before rushing to Ross’ side again.
Your best friends were having a baby.
Your little bubba was going to get their own best friend.
Turning to your husband. You both knew.
The time was now.
“Right. Present time!” You announced.
“We said no presents pretty girl!” Matty groaned.
Rolling your eyes, you reached down the side of your chair to grab the gift bag, handing it over the table to you best friend. Hoping what was inside would override his annoyance of you ‘ignoring his stupid no gift rule’ knowing full well that it would especially knowing you were going to ask him a special question once the baby was born. Also when have you ever listened to Matty in your life!
“Open the card first!” You told him; almost giddy with nerves.
Ross intertwined his fingers with your own whilst Matty rolled his eyes, muttering something along the lines of “Yeah, alright bossy boots!” As he tore open the envelope. Your heart race increasing ten fold, you bit your lip knowing that in two seconds your friends were about to know your little secret.
“Read it out loud mate. Spent ages writing the perfect message for ya!” Ross chirped up, a smirk etched across his handsome face.
“Okay?” Matty quipped, pulling a face at his mate before opening the card.
“Happy Birthday Uncle Matty…” Matty’s head whipped up; his eyes meeting your own, which were already brimming with tears. Nodding in confirmation. Matty’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he choked on his own words. “I can’t wait to meet you. Lots of love. Baby MacDonald.”
Little noises of shock erupted around the dinner table; the biggest gasp coming from Carly who had matching tears streaming down her face when your eyes found hers. Immediately being pulled from your silent telepathic connection with her; you found yourself in George’s long arms, a kiss pressed firmly to the crown of your head, passing on his congratulations before you were yanked out of his grip and coming face to face Matthew.
Your curly haired best friend looked at you softly, his big brown eyes brimmed with tears as he took you by the shoulders. “You’re having a baby?” He whispered.
“I am.”
“You’re having a baby with Ross?!” Matty choked out a laugh.
“I am.” You giggled; taking his hands in your own.
“I’m going to be an Uncle?”
“You’re going to be the best Uncle!” You beamed.
Matty threw his arms around your neck, the sob that was brewing in his chest now out in full force as he cried into your neck as he profusely congratulated you amongst all the ‘thank yous’ for the best birthday gift he’s ever gotten before he spun in the direction of the Hann’s who were wrapped up in each other watching your interaction unfold as George hugged your husband.
Matty stepped towards Ross before and hugging him profusely before turning to Adam and Carly. Making your way back towards your husband and stepping under Ross’ arm, you watched as Matty cried in Adam’s arms. You felt an overwhelming sense of warmth as you listened to George and Ross talk about the baby... sorry babies and how excited he was that your little family were getting to new members. How excited he was to get a new bestie when Matty called out the need for celebration and called for the boys to have a drink.
Adam hugged you on his way to the kitchen. Soft whispers of “Congratulations. You’re kid is going to be the luckiest with you two as parents. You’re going to be the best mam darling!” He kissed your cheek sweetly before being dragged away by Matty to do whatever the hell he was planning. Calls of “Wetting the babies’ heads!” as he bounced around the kitchen.
Making your way over to Carly; you wrapped her up in your arms, the two of you just holding each other for a tender moment before falling into quiet conversation. Smiles that never left either of your faces. You were both going to have babies with your sweet, talented husbands and any sense of doubt or fear you had seemed to shrink away. Your worrying mind settling knowing that you had Carly by your side as you watched the four boys cheers in the kitchen.
Your heart thumping in your chest as you watched Adam and Ross hug each other tightly, speaking closely with one another before they both cast their eyes in your direction, their eyes lighting up and their smiles bright at the sight of their girls. Yeah. You were going to be just fine.
#ross macdonald fic#ross macdonald imagine#ross macdonald fanfiction#ross macdonald x reader#ross macdonald#the 1975#the 1975 imagine#the 1975 fic#matty healy imagine#george daniel#george daniel imagine#adam hann#adam hann imagine
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First musical emotion?
TF: I grew up in an environment full of music, with a very open-minded mother who listened to a lot of pop and rock music and, above all, an older brother who was 13 years older than me. That's how much I was immersed in teenage culture as a child. I was 3 years old in 1984 when the glam metal wave invaded the airwaves and TV screens. These bands, like Kiss, WASP or Mötley Crüe, very strong visually for a child, attracted me irresistibly. And let's not forget Twisted Sister. I Wanna Rock is the track that remains the basis, the trigger for everything for me. A song that, at 3, 13, 23 or 43 years old, still has the same effect on me as soon as I hear it: to jump in the air like a madman.
First record bought?
If not Kiss, probably a Rolling Stones album. It didn't make much of an impression on me because my brother used to buy so many of them, so my money was mostly spent on Star Wars stuff. There are tons of bands I love, but I think the Stones are my favourite. Because they embody everything I love about rock, even though they weren't as sophisticated as the Beatles or Pink Floyd. Between 1967 and 1972, in their darkest period, nobody did it better than them: they had the look, the attitude, the style and, on top of that, the songs! Let It Bleed is incredible, with songs like Midnight Rambler and Live With Me. As much as I admire technical singers, virtuosos of harmony, Jagger remains unique. I've never tried to imitate him, but as a performer he is the absolute model.
First concert of note?
My brother used to take me to see local punk bands at a very early age, but I remember B.B. King most of all, when I was about 5 or 6, with my mother. It was a jazz festival, outside in the courtyard of a castle, a very cool atmosphere. As soon as B.B. King started playing, there was electricity in the air. Everyone got up and started dancing, I was blown away. And as I was the only one of my age, I could move around freely, so much so that I found myself in the backstage, in front of B.B. King himself! He invited me into his dressing room: "Do you play the guitar?" - Yes! - so don't stop!" And I took his advice. Even though I sing on stage, the guitar is still my favourite instrument, the one I play and master the most.
The band that best managed to avoid the pitfall of the image taking precedence over the music?
Kiss, unfortunately, was far from being up to the task musically. Alice Cooper, after two minor first albums, went on to make four incredible albums with the original Alice Cooper Group. Above all, he made a phenomenal comeback with Welcome to My Nightmare in 1975. After that, the show took over... The band that managed to stay straight and dignified, without compromising the artistic quality of their work, is undoubtedly Iron Maiden. All of their 80's production is impeccable, and if they had a slump in the 90's, they came back even stronger with the return of Bruce Dickinson, and have been going strong for twenty years! Their work ethic is exemplary. With Ghost, we take up Phantom of the Opera, one of my favourite tracks from their early period, and one of the few where I felt we could add a little something to it.
Best punk song in the world?
There are so many, because I was also brought up on the sounds of the Pistols, the Ramones, the Dead Kennedys... But as a kid, I never got tired of listening to The Great Rock'n'Roll Swindle again, especially the sequence where Sid Vicious sings My Way. His version is one of my favourite songs of all time. What could be more awesome than to see a guy slaughtering this standard while doing the same, shooting the shit, with the audience that came to see him! It was like the ultimate middle finger, and it made me happy, and it showed me the way.
The band that remains the grail for you?
Queen, because the show side, the big show, is the ultimate for me. In the early 70s, my favourite musical period, there were no big shows yet, like the Stones started doing afterwards. Queen is the same. Of course, their best albums are from the 70s, but the peak of their career for me is the Wembley concert in 1986. Magic wasn't a great record, but the show was breathtaking, dantesque, with a repertoire as vast as it was delirious. If Ghost could ever come close to the 1986 Queen, I would be delighted.
The greatest Swedish band?
ABBA, of course. No one will ever be able to stand in their way. The Beatles are the monarchs of English rock, ABBA the monarchs of Swedish pop. Björn and Benny are national heroes. I found myself at a huge, formal party when Benny suddenly sat down at the piano and started Thank You For the Music. There was silence in a second. This guy is a monument. You can't imagine what ABBA has done, not only for pop music, but also for Sweden and the Swedes. This band proved that you can move mountains.
Which Ghost song are you most proud of?
Cirice, probably. I often write my songs by singing into my phone a melody that is in my head. We were about to finish the album Meliora. And the co-producer tells me that a really heavy and powerful track is missing. I tell him I have this heavy, heavy, macabre sounding tune with a long intro and a crushing riff. He suggests I tweak it while he goes for a run. When he came back, I had written a chorus, lyrical, catchy. It wasn't the leaden track he was hoping for. But it won us a Grammy!
The most evil band?
Certainly not Mercyful Fate, as one might imagine. They, like most Norwegian death metal bands, more or less satanic, are the most charming guys I've ever met. They seem more like nice teachers than evil creatures. The scariest band is probably Von, a mythical American black metal band from Hawaii. These guys were really scary, with their terrifying size, they looked really dangerous. But I think the evil is mostly on the side of those who pretend to defend the good. For me, the most evil and unattractive musician is Ted Nugent. He's pro-life, pro-hunting, and claims he's only fighting for freedom. But the world he defends is about as free and tolerant as Vladimir Putin's. I refuse to listen to him.
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