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ginsengkitten · 7 months

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༺ Beautiful Dangerous༻

A slashxreader fanfiction

༺☆༻

Chapter One:

Tower Records

word count: approx.: 2900

Trailer/Moodboard here :)

☆ Authors Notes ☆

ty for reading. This is mostly a world building intro but I hope y’all like it :) - also I will be including photos and music that inspires or I felt matches each chapter, just for fun. This story takes place in some sort of fictional timeframe of 1984-86 ish when GNR had just started developing/finalizing their OG line up. I know not all the pics and timelines necessarily add up but this literally isn’t real so whatever!

Track list:

You really got me - The Kinks

Green Onions - Booker T. & the M.G.s

Foxey Lady - Jimi Hendrix

Your parents had shipped you out to your cousins home in the Hollywood Hills every summer since you were 10. The sprawling green hills sprinkled with Tuscan topped mansions upheld to excite you. Simply because there was so much more to be discovered outside of the ritz. This summer was going to be perhaps the best one yet, because now that you were turning 18, Uncle Rob would finally allow you to go down into the city for the first time.

Uncle Rob and Aunt Shena were the most uptight, stick up the ass, pair of individuals to bethrall the hills. You would think with the unceasing access to every pill, herb, and juice in Hollywood from Robs fancy job would have eased them up over the years; their long time neighbor, Dave, was one of the most sought out coke suppliers in the area - or at least that's what your cousin Daisy has told you- and Daisy liked to dramatize occasionally.... Daisy also says that her parents think too much ibuprofen could spell a trip to the confessional at church. This statement however was proven to be true because of the time Aunt Shena almost refused to give you a 50 mg Tylenol the time you had started your period in their guest bedroom.

Needless to say, it was in agreement with your own parents that you'd not be permitted to go down to the city until you were 18. "The city is where the devil preys on gods most vulnerable and precious spirits" Aunt Shena would recite this at least ten times throughout each summer visit, sure to remind you of the evil that lurked in the streets below. Most summer weeks were spent at the house, but it sure beat Indiana summers back home. Mondays were family nights at home, Tuesdays were beach days, Wednesdays were usually home days too but occasionally sailing on the family boat was allotted. You didn't have a boat back home in Indiana. Daddy's money was steady but not BOAT money steady. Plus it was Indiana- where would the sailing even take place? Lake Michigan?

Thursdays, the cinema would have discount movie matinees. If the film had been pre approved through the other moms in Aunt Shenas crochet circle, then she would take you and Daisy to go see it as a treat. Occasionally, Daisy would ask to use the restroom and you both would sneak into another screen room to peek at the other movies you weren't allowed to see, up until you accidentally snuck into a showing of 'The Evil Dead'. Both you and Daisy had nightmares for weeks and her parents couldn't figure out why, and no shot in hell would either of you admit what happened.

Daisy was fun and secretive like that. You appreciated her ability to lie straight to her parents face. Daisy liked to adventure a little bit more than what her parents would allow. Naturally she became versed in the art of bullshitting her parents.

Daisy was almost like a stranger to her parents. It was sad in a way but mostly just impressive. Daisy would steal cigarettes from her dad and stash them in her pencil case and sell them to the other girls in her church group. She also snuck out regularly, mostly to the local park to meet up with boys from school. She was brave. Real brave. She was cool. Real fucking cool. In fact, she was so cool and so brave, that she got the mastermind plan to steal her fathers Pontiac Firebird while he was away on business and Aunt Shena was knocked unconscious from her qualludes. (But god forbid ibuprofen right?).

"I don't know why I hadn't done this sooner!" Daisy bounced in the drivers seat like a mental patient. The engine cried out aggressively and the whole vehicle roared awake. There’s no way the entire street didn’t hear that. "And you're SURE your mother isn't going to find out? What about your daddy?" You pegged for final assurance from Daisy before becoming an accessory to theft. "Daddy won't ever know. You know why? Cuz' you remember Jeff from my church? He showed me how to roll back the odometer on a car in exchange for...well for never-mind but you don't gotta sweat about a thing Y/N. Now cut the square talk we gotta get to Tower Records before it closes!".

That's another thing Daisy kept secret. Her music. Daisy had a whole stack of vinyl records along with a record player, stashed under her bed. She would purchase raunchy records like Tina Turner and Cheap Trick, and slide them in the back of the more inconspicuous records like Chuck Girard and Bob Dylan. One of Daisy's boyfriends last summer had gifted her an Aerosmith record. Daisy played it for you once and that's how you first learned what rock music was. Some kind of bug bit you then. You itched to hear more, but between the uber cult of Daisy's parents and your own sheltered family back in indiana, who were perpetually trapped in the era of disco music, rock music was hard to come by. Rock music was foreign to you but felt familiar. You'd never felt a craving for sound before hearing it. So when Daisy devised to steal her dads car to go visit Tower Records in the city, you shoved all notion of "evils that lurk below" and the two of you ripped down to the sunset strip.

It wasn't that you weren't adventurous too. You could be if you wanted to. You were just too busy to be bothered with mischief like Daisy. While you believed yourself to be an open minded individual, it was clear Aunt Shenas repeated affirmations of danger sat in the back of your mind, welling up further and further to the forefront while the lights of the city glittered closer and closer into view.

"Wow wow wow Y/N...look at it all right? You seein this?" Daisy's eyes glazed over as the neon lights poured over the Pontiac. It was like nothing you had ever seen before. Or her. Daisy had only made it down to the city a handful of times but never at night. Each building had its own neon get up signage. Loads of people strolled the night street. It was busy! Your heart pounded in your chest a little bit. Fear and excitement all in one. You couldn't take your eyes off the passing sceneries. You tried to take it all in. Burger joints you had seen a million commercials for bustled with crews of hot rods parked in the parking lots, engines proudly displayed. Beautiful women leaning into the windows of old rusty cars, hung out on the darker corners in big groups for some reason. Was everyone down here revolting against wearing clothes?

"Tower Records baby!" Daisy sang as she pulled into the parking lot. Huh. It wasn't really a tower like the name had suggested. Rather a dingy stand alone strip mall off the corner of the strip. The disappointing reality shocked you back to your more cautious senses. If anyone finds out we're here we're totally busted.

You stepped out of the car and a wall of hollywoods finest scents burned your nose. The air down here wasn't like the air in the hills. Air can't be so different like that can it? "God I hope they have the new Cyndi Lauper release." Daisy said, pushing into the store door with her back.

The door chirped out a small out of tune "ding!" To notify the staff of the new and completely out of element customers entering. Two scrawny flower fresh girls in inconspicuous uniform-like attire, looking plain and straight as an arrow. The saying "bull in a China shop" but as if curiously reversed "China in a bull shop". Daisy somewhat fit the bill better but you-you did not look hip enough to be in a record store, or the state of California. Even if it was a dingy strip mall. Which made you all the more nervous.

A few other customers sleuthed the aisles, clearly regulars. You tried to stay out of everyone's way while you tried to keep track of Daisy darting into the vinyl labyrinth. You scanned the sea of music. Tracing your fingers along the spines of sleeves. So much rock music! You glanced around to see Daisy already chatting up one of the grungy male employees. Your eyes caught a gorgeous vibrant yellow sleeve and you plucked it out. 'Are you experienced' by Jimi Hendrix.

You'd heard of him you think. Maybe on the news somewhere? He seems like a big rocker name.

You made your way over to the front corner of the store by the check out where they had open record players where customers could play records and listen to new samples. You held the album in your hands and stared at its dazzling colors. Almost spellbound until;

"Foxey Lady."

The sudden voice snapped you out of your trance and you looked around. Suddenly catching the cashier at the empty register. Did HE say that? To ME? You hesitated to question if he spoke to you. He seemed like the type to cause trouble. Was this a cat call? Is this what cat calling is? One time mother had been cat called in front of a sears and daddy found the man who did it and really gave him a reaming. She warned you about dirty and dangerous men in the streets who call women obscenities for fun. What jerk cat calls a young woman shopping at their own store?

"Excuse me…?" You questioned.

"The record." He pointed to your hands gripping the yellow vinyl.

"Foxey lady. It's the best song on that album." He connected. Your eyes glance back down at the track list and sure enough 'Foxey Lady' was spelled out. Your face suddenly blooms pink in embarrassment as you look back up to him. That's not what you were expecting from this guy.

He leaned his back against the wall behind the counter. It was impossible to tell if he was looking at you because his eyes were protected from a curtain of thick, pretty dark curls and sunglasses….indoors….at night. His arms crossed coolly. He had an aura of mischief about him. He was almost like a ghost. Dressed in all black leather. You'd never seen someone dressed in only black clothes before. Maybe he was a rocker type too.

"Oh..uh….I'll need to give it a listen then." You replied politely and cordially with a nervous smile, averting his face to hide your obvious embarrassment. You became slightly flustered. He didn't drop his attention towards you. You start to fiddle with the record, somehow losing your sense of coordination because you were being watched. Suddenly the record isn't lining up correctly. The lid almost clamps on your hand but something catches it and spares your fingers. You look up again and he's now in front of you, acting like some sort of hero. An intense mixture of tobacco, rubbing alcohol and an almost sweet musk surrounds you. You now see that he is in fact looking at you. You stare at him like a deer in headlights. Stunned, embarrassed and confused at how he managed to sneak his way over to you so quickly. "Here, I'll play it for you." His lips curl up slightly into an almost sickeningly lovely smirk. He places his hand upon yours and kindly removes it out of the way. You step aside and allow him to continue, still stunned and nervous.

Not only had your heart already been on high alert from the firebird thievery, a guy was now in your direct personal space. A potentially dangerous guy. Well no- he wasn't cat calling you after all right? And he just helped you and? He is sort of nicer than you expected. He just seems so...cool?

All up in your personal space. It wasn't like you were a prude! You'd kissed a boy before! Even held hands too. Granted the kiss was on the cheek. But this guy just kind of....took over. His presence was so laid back and yet demanded the attention of the room. It was hard not to want to stare back at him. You wanted to better analyze this predator/prey situation here. If he's so dangerous, why is he being so kind? It took one glance at him up close and you were starting to call bullshit on Aunt Shena's precautions altogether. You'd been in the city for almost an hour and remained entirely unscathed.

Your hand still felt electric from his touch. His eyes only briefly detaching from you to put the record on.

A funky rock ensemble flowed out of the record. The same type of musical pleasure you had heard from the Aerosmith record, revisited your body. A rougher, harder groove than what's on the radio. It was melodic and fierce. The guy redirected himself to you once more. Watching you for your reaction to the song. You nervously nod your head to the beat, meeting his gaze. Once you connect sights, your stomach jumps in a swirl. Butterflies soar in circles inside you. This oddly intimate interaction but you couldn't seem to pull away. Almost spellbound yet again but for an entirely different feeling.

He began mouthing the lyrics, still staring back at you over a sea of tension thick air.

'You know you're a cute little heartbreaker'

Your face is rushing hot. It was almost like he was intentionally singing these words to you.

'And you know you're a sweet little love maker'

He smirked at this one. You turned now what you must have assumed was red with embarrassment. You break your gaze and look down at your shoes and then glance around the shop to locate Daisy. The shop was mainly now empty as the night had grown in. Daisy could still be found giggling away with another boy in the far end of the store. Your heart fluttered rapidly. You suddenly feel the air in front of you grow warmer. Looking back he had stepped closer to you and space between you had shrunk. He continues.

'I wanna take you home-

I won't do you no harm'

He held a smug look on his face as his lips mouthed these totally obscene lyrics to you. Like he knew it was not something you'd ever heard before. Your naïve shock seemed to entertain him.

'You got to be all mine, all mine'

Ooh Foxey Lady.'

"You dig it?" He asked still holding a smirk. "Definitely" You admit all too quickly. He give a slight breathy chuckle. Your sure answer when you had seemed so unsure about everything else til then was cute to him. A gal who was on board for rock n roll was nothing but perfection to him. But you didn't look the part, and that amused him. Your light floral scent drifted sweetly around him, he was unable to ignore you as soon as you had walked in and he had watched your every move. A nervous animal. Timid and clearly not someone he had seen in before. The girls that normally perused Tower Records were hot but they were rough around the edges. You- you were something sweet…something different altogether he thought. You were like a breath of fresh air to him. What's that saying...opposites attract?

"You like it so much you can have it." He said, his voice a lower octave.

"Oh well I was thinking of buying something el-" you started to politely object.

"No. " he laughs at your oblivion. "Just take it. It's yours." He pushes it into your hands. You're a little in shock once more just at the thought of stealing? Twice in one night? You really like the record and you would love to own it...but. You look around nervously.

"Here Foxey, All you." He firmly asserts it into your grasp, lets go and begins to walk back behind his counter.

"Y-you could get into trouble for this you know." You point out with concern for this kind stranger. He waves you off with his hand. "we're closing miss, you'll have to get." busying himself in false cashiering practices he had probably never paid attention to until now. Daisy meets you mid store. She hardly notices the record in your hands or the insane cashier who just let you steal from his store. "I've just met the cutest boy, Y/N! And he’s in his own band! I'll tell you on the way back. “ She giggled. “Let's get sodas maybe too if some where's open." Daisy ushered you to the door, blind in her own personal thrills to notice you looking back over your shoulder to meet the gaze of the cashier once more, who to your delight had removed his sunglasses, already staring back at you, watching you leave. He gave you another sly smile and you returned one of your own, forming some sort of mutual pact of this secret.

Why did he think you would keep this a secret? Why did he trust you like that? You were going to after all, but how did he know?

Doesn’t he care about getting in to trouble?

#slash x reader #slash smut #slash fanfiction #slash gnr #slash #gnr x reader #gnr smut #gnr #axl rose #duff mckagan #izzy stradlin

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ginsengkittensecondary · 7 months

Text

I HAVE MOVED TO MY MAIN. PLEASE FOLLOW GINSENGKITTEN FOR UPDATES. STORY WILL CONTINUE THERE. <3

༺ Beautiful Dangerous༻

A slashxreader fanfiction

༺☆༻

Chapter One:

Tower Records

word count: approx.: 2900

☆ Authors Notes ☆

ty for reading. This is mostly a world building intro but I hope y’all like it :) - also I will be including photos and music that inspires or I felt matches each chapter, just for fun. This story takes place in some sort of fictional timeframe of 1984-85 ish when GNR had just started developing/finalizing their OG line up. I know not all the pics and timelines necessarily add up but this literally isn’t real so whatever!

Track list:

You really got me - The Kinks

Green Onions - Booker T. & the M.G.s

Foxey Lady - Jimi Hendrix

You'd heard of him you think. Maybe on the news somewhere? He seems like a big rocker name.

"Foxey Lady."

"Excuse me…?" You questioned.

"The record." He pointed to your hands gripping the yellow vinyl.

Your hand still felt electric from his touch. His eyes only briefly detaching from you to put the record on.

He began mouthing the lyrics, still staring back at you over a sea of tension thick air.

'You know you're a cute little heartbreaker'

Your face is rushing hot. It was almost like he was intentionally singing these words to you.

'And you know you're a sweet little love maker'

'I wanna take you home-

I won't do you no harm'

He held a smug look on his face as his lips mouthed these totally obscene lyrics to you. Like he knew it was not something you'd ever heard before. Your naïve shock seemed to entertain him.

'You got to be all mine, all mine'

Ooh Foxey Lady.'

"You like it so much you can have it." He said, his voice a lower octave.

"Oh well I was thinking of buying something el-" you started to politely object.

"Here Foxey, All you." He firmly asserts it into your grasp, lets go and begins to walk back behind his counter.

Why did he think you would keep this a secret? Why did he trust you like that? You were going to after all, but how did he know?

Doesn’t he care about getting in to trouble?

I HAVE MOVED TO MY MAIN. PLEASE FOLLOW GINSENGKITTEN FOR UPDATES. STORY WILL CONTINUE THERE. <3

#saul hudson #slash #slash gnr #gnr #saul hudson x reader #slash x reader #gnr smut #slash smut #gnr x reader

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bau-baby · 4 years

Note

Hey😊Firstly, I just wanted to say that I loved the first part of ‘The Ultimate Loss’ so much!💞I’m so excited for the next part to come out (I really needed a new Hotch x reader series to read lol) Secondly, I noticed you’re request are open and I was wondering if you could do a Hotch x reader where the reader is Jack’s babysitter and her and Aaron eventually get together? Thank you so much🥰💕

home.

word count: 1048

warnings: big age gap (around 20-ish years),

A/N: I’m so glad you enjoyed ‘the ultimate loss’!!

It was another day when you saw the familiar contact show up on your phone, an impending call flashing at you. You click the answer button, already fumbling to get some clothes packed as you hear Aaron start talking.

“Sorry for the short notice, Y/N. Can you watch Jack for the next few days? I understand if you can’t-”

“Aaron, it’s fine. I’m already on my way over, don’t worry,” You grab your keys from the dish beside your door and open the door to your apartment, leaving swiftly.

You had been Jack’s babysitter for just under a year now, and you quickly made it into the heart of the Hotchner home. You became a rock in Jack’s life, just behind Aaron and his aunt Jess.

You were making your way through grad school, taking odd jobs here and there. But, one fateful babysitting job would earn you your steadiest income as well as a wonderful friend with the best son. It was definitely a match of the century.

As you made your way to the familiar apartment building, you smiled to yourself. You took the key that Aaron recently gave to you, which was his way of demonstrating his overall trust he has with you with not only his son, but his home.

You opened the door to find to see Aaron and Jack on the other side. Jack wriggles himself off the couch, the biggest, toothiest smile gracing his face as he pummels into your waiting arms.

“Hey, buddy! Ready to hang out with me again?” You ask, hoisting him up onto your hip. That pulls a giggle from him as he nods his little head. You place him back on the ground, and he runs off to play in his room.

“He really enjoys having you. So do I,” Aaron says, and you see his lips quirk up and his eyes shine with something you’ve only seen when he looks at his son or the pictures of Haley sprinkled throughout the house. You choose to ignore it as well as the pull in your chest.

“Well he’s the sweetest kid, and I always love taking care of him. And I’d hope that you’d like me, you did give me a key to your apartment.” You try to play off the confusion you have towards what Aaron said, what it could mean.

You swear you see his expression fall entirely, his head tipping down slightly. You ignore that too.

-----

As the months pass by, you and Aaron both have instances of words that go ignored. You both choose to keep your heads down, merely citing the lack of professionality that would come of anything happening between you two.

He’s much older

She’s much younger

It won’t work.

So, both of you continue business as usual. Or at least, you try to.

“Do you love my dad?” Jack asks one day while you play LEGO’s with him. You sputter at his words, wondering what this kid saw.

“Uh, well, why do you ask, buddy?” You ask him, trying to mask your apprehension towards his answer.

“’Cause my dad always talks about you the way he talks about my mom or Uncle Rossi or Miss Emily or Miss JJ or Uncle Spencer or Uncle Derek or Miss Penelope,” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You change the subject, your realization hitting you full force in the moment.

You’re in love with Aaron Hotchner.

-----

That same realization takes a lot longer for it to hit Aaron. He’s a damn good profiler, but acknowledging and distinguishing between different feelings wasn’t always his strong suit.

Who’s he kidding? It was never his strong suit.

A picture of you and Jack sits on his desk, next to one of him and Jack. He smiles at it often, many a memory connected to the photo.

Dave raps his knuckles against the door and walks in anyway, to see Aaron smiling fondly down at the picture of you.

“You should really do something about that,” Dave says nonchalantly, a little smirk on his face.

Aaron’s eyebrows lift up, a question riddled within them.

“What do you mean?” His confusion makes Dave just shake his head.

“You’ll figure it out Aaron, you always do,”

-----

Aaron realizes when he comes home early from a case, finding you napping with Jack on the couch.

He doesn’t realize it as quick as he would’ve liked, the pull in his chest confusing him. He smiles softly and leaves you two to sleep.

The realization finally dawns on him as he walks down to his room, the air of familiarity while having you here jolting him to the thought.

He’s in love with you.

You wake a little while later, taking Jack to his room and putting him to bed. You rub the sleep from your eyes as you walk out of his room, coming face to face with Aaron.

You jump, scared by his sudden presence.

“Sorry to scare you,” His small laugh and smile tell you exactly how sorry he is.

You smile too, shaking your head, “Sure you are.”

“I have some coffee brewing if you’d like any,” He tells you, already turning to the kitchen.

You follow him, grabbing some mugs from the cabinet once in the kitchen.

“You know me better than you let on, Hotchner,”

“You’re a grad student working through midterms. You aren’t as mysterious as you let on,” He counters, a mischievous glint in his eye.

You look at him, the domesticity weaving it’s way through the moment like a warmth. You straighten yourself as you angle your body towards him, while he dips his head towards yours, and your lips meet.

You turn towards him, framing his jaw with your hands as your thumbs swipe back and forth over his cheekbones. His hands come and rest lightly on your hips.

You break apart, and you immediately keep your eyes trained on the collar of his shirt, afraid he’ll see just how much you’ve truly waited for this.

He takes your chin in his hand, bringing your eyes to level with his. The next kiss is just as sweet as the first, the warmth radiating through the apartment as you realize your truly home now.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader fluff #aaron hotchner #the domesticity #soft hotch

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omg-im-such-a-masochist · 4 years

Text

WHO?

Prompt: “Can you do a mob!Roman Reigns x Pregnant Reader where they are in a meeting and someone disrespects her?” Requested by the lovely @purpledragon04 (I’m also tagging my girl @ziasaph ‘cuz she wants all Roman related stories...and I can relate babe! Hahaha)

Word count: Long-ish

Pairing: Mob!Roman Reigns x Pregnant Reader

Warnings: Mob themed related subjects(drugs/gun),cursing,explicit violence,mentions of murder,harassment.

Notes: I’ve always wanted to write something Mob!Roman related but I’ve never had any good ideas,until the amazing @purpledragon04 request this. I’ve had some free time today so I dedicated to write this.So there you have it, I hope you like it babe.🥰 Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings,english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla),check out my other stories if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊) and if you’re comfortable with it,please let me know what you think? Some feedback is always welcomed and appreciated ❤️You can check out my other stories typing ‘masochist writes’ on the search bar on my page and my newest story as a fixed post.Okay,now let’s get to the fun part,shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉

I woke up as soon as the smell of fresh toast and scrambled eggs filled the bedroom, I opened my eyes and saw my beautiful man holding a tray fool of food,shirtless and barefooted with his hair down,only in a pair of black sweatpants that hanged dangerously low on his hips.

“Good morning baby girl” He softly smiles

“Good morning Ro”

He placed the tray of food on top of the bed on his empty side and approached me kneeling on one knee,placing one big hand on my round belly,pecking my lips,looking at my bump and asking in a soft voice

“And how are we feeling today?” While he rubbed and gave light pecks all around my belly.

“So far so good!” I answered as I ran my fingers through his thick,silky,dark hair.

“Good” he pecks my lips “ ‘cuz I’ve brought us some food”

He got up and walked to his side of our king size bed,placed the tray next to me so he could sit on the bed.

Ever since we’ve found out I was pregnant Roman did this same morning ritual every day without a fail! He would wake up before me and cook himself our breakfast. And to be honest I don’t know how he could do it,for 6 months straight now,every single day. It mesmerized me how much dedication he had with my and the baby’s well being.

“What did I do to deserve you?To deserve this everyday?” I honestly asked while I pointed to the tray

He shyly smiled and I could swear he blushed before answering “Baby girl,you’re making a big deal out of nothing really,it’s a simple gesture that I like to do,because I love you and our little bundle of joy” He rubbed my bump “I just like to take care of you both that’s all...now let’s eat before the food gets cold”

I smiled and took a good look on the tray,there was scrambled eggs,plain toast and toast with jam,fruit salad,water,coffee and juice. I eagerly reached for the coffee when...

“Nu uh! You’re not drinking that missy!” He took the coffee out of my sight “I’ve made you some peach juice and there’s water.”

I rolled my eyes and let out an annoyed sigh before saying “The doctor said that I had do control the amount of caffeine I drink and not to totally quit it,you know?”

“First things first,don’t roll you eyes at me missy. Secondly yours and the baby’s health comes in first place,so that means no caffeine for you”

“But I-“

“There’s no arguing about it! Now drink your juice and eat your breakfast!”

“Whatever you say,dad” I scoffed

He briefly chuckled and said “Don’t you worry baby girl, later tonight, I’m sure the same words will come out of your mouth with a different tone to it” he deviously smirked at me.

I was finishing opening the last package with some of the baby’s items I’ve bought online, to find the one thing I was looking for. A romper with some beautiful and delicate flower patterns on it, with the saying ‘ I may be small,but I’m a one big wish come true’, the same words Roman said to the baby when we’ve found out I was 4 weeks pregnant.

I smiled and made my way to his office, I was so excited to show him what I’ve found that I bursted through the door saying

“Hey Ro,look what I’ve foun-“ I stopped talking as soon as I saw he wasn’t alone “I’m so sorry! I didn’t knew you had a meeting,that was so reckless of me to burst in like that,sorry.”

“It’s ok baby, it’s a last minute meeting, I didn’t even had time to let you know, it’s ok tho, I know you didn’t mean to” He smiled “Besides,we’re pretty much done here.” He stood up from his chair,made his way towards me at the door and whispered “I’m just gonna go grab something really quick,so I can give to David,then I’m all yours ok?”

“Sure,Ro” I answered and he pecked my lips

“I’ll be right back baby” And he quickly went down the stairs.

Personally, I don’t like David, as matter of fact I fucking hate him! He is one of the guys who takes shifts with Ben selling Roman’s product on the streets. And he’s a total pervert.

Every time he sees me he flirts (borderline harass) me, making disgusting comments about me,my body,my clothes..and since I got pregnant it became worst, I once caught him saying that he loved the fact that I’m pregnant now,because it would make my boobs look bigger and I would look so good that way. To say that he’s disgusting and filthy is an understatement, he’s the worst scum bag I’ve ever seen! I never said anything to Roman because I know David is one of his top guys and I didn’t wanted to ruin his business,but I swear that many,many times I wish I had told him.

David stood up and made his way dangerously towards me

“Well, well...what do we have here?Two beautiful girls” He reach his arm to touch my bump and a ferocious mother instinct took over me. I could take care of myself but I’ll be damned if he touches my baby!

“Touch her and I’ll kill you myself” I snarled.

It may sound dumb, since she wasn’t even born yet, to think that he could actually touch her. But he knew that to me touching a woman’s pregnant bump was as intimate as touching her baby. And he would never,ever touch my baby girl!

“Calm down mama” he chuckled “I mean no harm! I gotta say tho Y/N, you look as beautiful as ever” he measured me from head to toe with an aroused look upon his eyes and I had to hold myself from throwing up.

“You know I would give anything for that baby to be mine and not his right?” He approached me carefully

“Stay away from me”

“Calm down tigress!” He lightly laughed

“Don’t you dare to touch me or her! You make me sick!”

“I just wanna give my girls a hug,that’s all”

Pure fear surrounded me and I turned away to run,but he was faster pulling me towards him, wrapping his arms around my belly making my ass rest on his erection.

“See,how I get whenever I see you tigress?” He started to caress my baby bump and hot tears poured down my eyes making my sight completely blurred. I felt someone quickly yank him from me and I cleaned my eyes to see Roman on top of him restlessly throw punch after punch on his face.

“Have you lost your fucking mind motherfucker? You must have a death wish boy!” Roman said while he continued to punch him with such a ferocious rage that I was pretty sure his face was getting unrecognizable.

He started to choke in his own blood, so Roman stopped his actions, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pulled the 9mm gun he always kept on his pants back waist. He put the gun nozzle on his cheek close to his lips and David started to cry babbling something along the lines of please and sorry. Roman just ignored saying

“Who the fuck you think you are boy? You live from my money, live in one of my houses, sell my drugs and still you think you can come to my house and mess with my pregnant woman” Roman dragged the nozzle from his cheek to his closed lips “And unborn daughter, under my roof and it will all be ok? Open your mouth” David begin to cry even harder “I said open. your. fucking. mouth boy!” He screamed and David slowly opened his mouth.

Roman places the nozzle inside of David’s mouth and continues to say scaringly calm

“What’s the matter Davie? I thought you liked to touch and talk obscenities to pregnant women. Go on now,continue what you were saying to my wife” David paralyzed “C’mon Dave, don’t be shy! You clearly have no respect for women, specially for my woman, or myself for that matter. So go for it, I’m all ears now!” The light beige rug beneath David started to slowly become a darker beige tone, was he?..

“Oh Davie, you filthy motherfucker, you’re pissing on my fucking rug???! Unbelievable! You know I’ll have to discount this from your paycheck right?” Roman was now laughing uncontrollably, he looked at me with amusement on his eyes

“Do you see this Y/N? David is scared...poor thing!” He continued to chuckle “Are you afraid to die Dave?”

“Yes, sir” David barely mumble

“Don’t you worry Davie boy, I’m not gonna kill you...I’ll just make you an example for any dumb motherfucker who thinks he can disrespect my wife or daughter..” Roman smiled

It has been 2 weeks now,since the incident with David. Roman has never once spoken about him since Ben took him out of our house.

I was in the baby’s nursery, organizing some of her clothing in the little lavender and white wardrobe we just bought for her, when Roman came through the door.

“Whatcha doing baby girl?”

“Trying to organize the chaos” I laughed,there were clothes and toys all over the nursery.

He placed one hand on my bump and whispered “And what’s my other baby girl doing,huh?” He kneeled down and nuzzled his nose on my belly, placing his bearded cheek on it right after.

“Oh definitely sleeping!” I chuckled

“I wonder where did she got it from?” He tried to hold back a laugh

“Uh” I gasped, pretending to be offended “Roman, are you trying to imply that I’m the lazy one?”

“No baby! I would never say such thing!” He smiled while pressing his chin to my bump so he could look at me with an amused look on his face.

“Yeah right you wouldn’t!” I laughed while I stroked his bearded cheek. He stood up and sweetly kissed my lips before going to the little wardrobe.

“Oh,this is cute” He said while holding a yellow dress with big black polka dots in it.

I couldn’t stop the thought that lingered on my mind for 2 weeks now, and before I could process what I was saying the words left my mouth.

“Ro, can I ask you something?”

“Sure, baby girl. Whatcha wanna know?” He answered still amused by the baby’s dresses

“What happened with David?”

I could see that his whole body tensed, before relaxing again. He took a small hanger out of the wardrobe, hanged the little yellow dress on it and put it back on the baby’s wardrobe before turning to face me,while calmly answering

“Who?”

I love Roman,although he’s a big guy and all of that I was never afraid of him, but I’ve never seen such a cruel, cold look on his face...and to be honest it was kinda scary.

“David...” I whispered

“I don’t know what you’re talking about baby” He gave me the coldest smile I’ve ever seen in my life.

“Roman...you’re kinda scaring me,love” My voice came out quite shaky

“Y/N, baby girl..” He came to me and cupped my face on his hands “Look at me baby” I did as he asked

“Y/N, I sincerely tell you that I don’t know who this David is or what happened to him. I’ve never met any David baby girl... You look a little flushed, why don’t we go downstairs to the kitchen and I’ll make you a sandwich huh? I need to keep my girls healthy” He leaned one hand down to my belly and the other one stroked my hair.

“What do you say baby?”

“Yeah Ro,that sounds nice”

“Good” He sincerely smiled at me and the warmth was back to his eyes “C’mon” he intertwined our fingers as we went down the stairs to the kitchen “I have to take care of my girls” He said while he looked at me with a smile.

That’s when I realized that whatever happened with David I would never know, and to be honest with you, I don’t even think I wanna know anymore...

#roman reigns one shot #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns #wwe imagine #wwe one shot #wwe fanfiction #masochist writes #request

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ins0mnia-an0nym0us-au · 4 years

Text

let’s talk about TUA fandom

y’all are hypocritical - let’s just get it out there.

before you start typing out some angry comments or coming in my ask-box lemme explain my reasoning here.

LUTHER HARGREEVES

Luther is one of the most hated characters in this fandom for some unknown reason to me. He is just another victim in all of this and as much as all of you want to blame everything on his actions, he simply acted in what he thought were the best interests of everyone. Luther showed his trauma in the same way the rest did.

In my opinion, Luther is one of the most underrated characters in The Umbrella Academy because all of you are too busy with your thirsting after Diego or uWu-ing over Klaus to notice him.

So here is Luther’s trauma broken down for all of you.

Luther was doomed from the moment he was chosen to be Number One, it’s that simple. From the very moment Reginald chose him, he had no chance, because he had the expectation of being the best put on his shoulders by a man who was never going to see any of them as anything less than worthless.

But Luther was determined to live up to his name, to be what his father wanted him to be – to be Number One.

Because for Luther he was sure everything that Reginald was doing was out of love. But I think Luther deep down knew that their father didn’t love them, but he needed to believe it was out of love, he couldn’t stand the thought of it being anything but love, because if it wasn’t love then it wasn’t worth it. He needed it to be worth it.

We got a glimpse of that in season one when he found all the packages he sent to Reginald. He never had any friends, he never left the house, he gave up his entire life for his father and the mission he believed in. Because he needed to believe it was worth it and when he found out it wasn’t – well, he had thrown his entire life away for what? It wasn’t because their father loved them or believed in them. So what was it?

Just to prove to all of you that Luther is more like his siblings than you all want to admit, here are some comparisons -

LUTHER: needed the moon to have a reason behind it, so much so that his obsession put others in danger. He also couldn’t face it when it turned out his mission was for nothing - so he regressed to his old behavior of thinking his father was right.

DIEGO: needed to be the hero, even though I’m almost positive Diego isn’t a complete idiot and knows that dramatically changing history would be bad - aka saving JFK could make the timeline explode, he needed to save him. So much so he was willing to put all of his siblings in jeopardy.

LUTHER: was told from the beginning he was the leader and that being Number One meant that he had to be the best. Because of this he had an inflated sense of importance. It just meant he had a higher distance to fall when he finally realized that it all meant nothing. He also doesn’t take their opinions or plans seriously because he’s Number One and his plans are superior.

FIVE: is a cocky little shit, who is insistent he is the smartest person around and he might be. But he views everyone around him as lesser, that includes his siblings. He has spent his entire time in the apocalypse trying to get back to save his siblings but still treats them like garbage. He also never lets his siblings in on anything that’s happening, he never sits them down and explains anything, and when they try to contribute with a plan or a theory he looks at them like they are stupid.

LUTHER: was sent to the moon, alone, with no one to talk to. Before that he had no friends his age, his only companions were Grace, his father, and Pogo. He’s been alone for a long time.

VANYA: has been alone for a lot longer than Luther - but trauma is not a competition and they both have dealt with it differently. I just wanted to point out these two similarities between the two characters.

LUTHER: is desperate for love and affection from his father. Everything he has done has been to get Reginalds approval and love but none of it has ever worked. He got small glimpses of things, like his dad’s favorite spot under a tree, so maybe he got a bit closer than the others but it was not real love.

ALLISON: is desperate for love and affection in general - hence her stardom. She needs attention, she feeds on it. It isn’t until she has Claire that I think she truly understands that everything until then has been fake. The unconditional love of a child made her realize that all of that fake love and affection is no match for real love.

LUTHER: has probably felt like a monster since before his transformation - having super-strength means having to be very careful with your own body. But after the transformation must’ve been so much worse.

BEN: literally has a monster inside of him and has always felt like a monster. The difference is he has openly spoken about feeling like a monster.

LUTHER: has always been in control of himself. He is the exact opposite of Klaus in how he uses control to deal with trauma. Luther needs control in order to deal with trauma.

KLAUS: has no control and he does not want it. To deal with trauma Klaus loses control by using drugs and alcohol but he also uses it to control his powers.

So now that I’ve gotten through the siblings a bit, let’s talk about another topic that has a bit of hypocrisy behind it -

ALLISON X LUTHER

For some reason this ship is very despised in the fandom, I don’t know if it’s because of the fact that one part of it is Luther but a lot of the reasons I see are just - ‘ew, they’re siblings’.

Yet, most of the ships in TUA fandom are of the siblings being paired together.

Five x Vanya [fics on ao3 - 372]

Diego x Klaus [fics on ao3 - 687]

Ben x Klaus [fics on ao3 - 311]

The only other ships that top these are -

Dave x Klaus [fics on ao3 - 1409]

Diego x Patch [fics on ao3 - 434]

And let’s be really honest for a second here - them being in any romantic relationship with each other, is not weird. None of them are biologically related to one another. They were just raised in the same household as one another and told to treat each other as siblings. If they had never been adopted by Reginald Hargreeves and met randomly on the side of the road, this discussion would be moot.

I find the Five x Vanya ship much more disturbing if I’m being honest, simply because most of the fics ship a fully grown Vanya, in the body of a 31-ish year old, with Five - who while mentally is like in his 60s or whatever, is back in his 13 year old body. If Vanya did ever get with Five before his body turned 18, it would be statutory rape.

Let’s also just for a second list some other fandom pairings that are pretty popular that people ship that have the same ‘we grew up as siblings but we aren’t biologically related’ trope.

Thor x Loki [fics on ao3 - 10894]

Eren x Mikasa [fics on ao3 - 1221]

John Marston x Arthur Morgan [fics on ao3 - 651]

Max x Alec [fics on ao3 - 357]

Iris x Barry [fics on ao3 - 3689]

It’s incredibly strange to me how unpopular Allison x Luther is - especially since it’s actually canon in the comics. Granted, some things from the comics of course should change or be adapted, but the chemistry between Tom Hopper and Emmy Raver-Lampman is just spectacular, especially during the dance scene in The Day That Wasn't.

I absolutely loved that scene (still mad it’s nowhere on youtube). I felt like we got to see Luther both as how Allison sees him and for a moment he was out of his head with Allison, relaxed and just himself.

If you just don’t ship it, just say you don’t ship it.

FINAL THOUGHTS

Alright. I think my duty as a member of the Luther-Protection squad is finished. If you can’t see your hypocrisy after this post, I really don’t know what to tell you. If you would like to have a calm discussion about why you think I’m wrong or right, I’m willing to talk about it. However, anyone who comes at me just spewing vitriol or that I’m so stupid will not be taken seriously, if you can’t have a calm discussion about things then I won’t take you seriously.

I do want to say though - I understand having favorite characters, I’m a sucker for characters that are only held back from destroying the world by a hug (Vanya). But I’m also someone who loves to look at the entire picture and appreciate the depth of each character in a series, even the ones I hate. In fact - some of my favorite characters were ones I hated and the actors/actresses soon became my favorite because it takes a lot of talent to make people hate you.

So for a moment, really think if you hate Luther Hargreeves or if you dislike his actions and if it’s his actions, who you really should hate is Reginald Hargreeves because all Luther has ever done has been a reaction to trauma - exactly like the rest of his siblings.

#the umbrella academy fandom #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy season 2 #tua2 #tua #spoilers #i'm calling y'all out #luther hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #ben hargreeves #diego hargreeves #allison hargreeves #five hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #trauma #reginald hargreeves #luther x allison #dumbasses being dumbasses #they are all stupid

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lovelyfandomthings · 4 years

Text

Umbrella Academy S2 E6 spoiler review

Overall: I actually really enjoyed this episode, nothing super major happened other than the meeting with Mr. Hargreeves despite that I thought it was a fun episode and even though it was the longest episode it felt like it went by the fastest to me. I thought Lila having second thoughts was quite interesting and i’m really excited to see the decisions she makes later. I was also really sad about Elliots torture and death, he was so sweet and innocent he didn’t deserve to die especially like that.

Luther: Luther finally stood up to his dad!! good on him to be honest i hope he keeps going on that. Nothing much really happened for him other then that but i can definitely say i like him way more.

Diego: Oh diego... he fell apart so quickly he really is so fragile. I hope he can find security in himself soon because i think he iS important and he needs to ignore what his dad tells him. “Team Zero” scene was so cute and him forgiving Vanya in his own way was very sweet.

Allison: seeing Allison finally tell the truth to Ray was great to see and i’m glad he was so accepting. It was also good to see a better explanation on why she doesn’t use her power for everything. At the “family meeting” she was pretty funny and I feel like she’s the most collected around their father.

Klaus: well, he tried his best to tell his cult and it didn’t work so you know, brownie points for trying i suppose. His scene with Dave was heart breaking although hopefully Dave telling him he will go even if he’s going to die will give Klaus some better closure.

Five: Five has such a weird relationship with his dad because in reality he has no idea how bad he became later. He genuinely seems to think his dad is a good person. I guess that does make sense though as he hasn’t talked to him since Five was 12-ish and and that age we see our parents as flawless. I’m very excited to see his fight scene with the board and it’s crazy how much his family must mean to him in order for him to literally risk everything to save them.

Ben: Woah, his possession was so cool!!! Although how the heck do his siblings not know he’s there it’s sO obvious. His crush on Jill is so sweet and how much he cares about her is so sad since you know he’s a ghost. I hope everyone figures out he’s around soon because he is definitely the most sane.

Vanya: She’s just so sweet and innocent. Seeing her father must’ve been crazy and she handled it so well as well as showing off her new control over her powers. Her and Sissy planning to run away together is so cute although I am very scared for what the heck Carl is about to do.

#umbrella acedmy #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy season 2 #tua #tua 2 #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #five hargreeves #ben hargreeves #vanya hargreeves

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randomvarious · 4 years

Video

youtube

Dave Angel - “Artech” Experimenta 1994 Techno / Acid Techno

Dave Angel played a big part in the first wave of UK techno and was one of the scene’s early pioneers, but what sets him apart from the majority of his peers is that he’s still around, pushing out tracks to this very day. Growing up in a musically diverse household in which his dad was a jazz musician and his sister is rapper Monie Love, Angel immersed himself in England’s acid house scene. He became a DJ on pirate radio in the late 80s and spun alongside now drum and bass legends Fabio and Grooverider.

Angel’s first release, an acid-fueled remix of the Eurythmics’ “Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)” was an instant hit, reaching #23 on the UK singles chart in 1990. It was a breaks track but with a dark Detroit techno type of vibe. And as the characteristics of techno became more fully fleshed out throughout the early 90s, Angel would become a definitive leader of the UK’s scene.

Which brings us to 1994, the year Dave Angel released a bomb techno track called “Artech”. I don’t know the story behind this song, but I think I can take a really good guess at it. See, 1994 was a year in which Angel found himself deep in the throes of producing aquatic techno and house tracks; that is to say, tunes with a palpable, unmistakable aquatic feel. The results of those efforts can be found on a mind-boggling 12-inch of his called Seas Of Tranquility EP, released on Rotation Records. However, not included on that 12-inch was “Artech”. Though Angel produced “Artech” for Rotation, the song would instead appear on a compilation and 12-inch sampler called Experimenta, released by a short-lived techno label in Essex called A13. I’m willing to bet that Angel originally produced “Artech” for the Seas Of Tranquility EP, but couldn’t find the room to fit it on there, so it was licensed to A13 instead.

Each song on the Seas Of Tranquility EP has similar ingredients: an uptempo backbeat, a much calmer layer of synths above it, Roland 303 acid, jingling hi-hats, hand percussion, and some chiptune-ish, or at the very least, chiptune-ish adjacent melodies. And “Artech” is no different. Plus, of course, it’s got an aquatic sound. In fact, the sound is so aquatic that it makes me think of a certain video game: Wave Race 64.

At the time of its release, Wave Race 64 was considered one of the greatest racing games ever developed. It was an early game for the console and it was part of Nintendo 64′s launch library. But even back then, the soundtrack was rated as being absolute dogshit. It seemed like a total afterthought and didn’t match the game’s highly commendable aspects like its revolutionary graphics and gameplay. It sounded like it was composed for Super Nintendo, maybe even NES.

But that pan flute-y, twinkling lead melody on “Artech” sounds like it was absolutely made for a videogame and it also sounds aquatic. There’s also a layer of swaying synths underneath that evoke a real feeling of waviness. And those two things, when put together, have me envisioning the sun-speckled, clear blue sea start screen sequence of Wave Race 64.

But like I said, the soundtrack for the game is awful. So, here’s what you do: You sync up “Artech” and the Wave Race 64 start screen sequence, like you would Dark Side of the Moon and The Wizard of Oz, and you mute Wave Race 64.

youtube

Tell me that that shit doesn’t match up fucking perfectly. What a missed opportunity for both Nintendo and Dave Angel to not collaborate, man. Could’ve just supplied them with all of the Seas Of Tranquility EP and this song.

One other thing: there was also kinda sorta a music video for “Artech,” which is rare for underground dance music from that time period. Dave Angel included the song on his own mix in 1995, X-Mix 4 - Beyond The Heavens, for Studio !K7, and the thing about those X-Mix releases is that a bunch of them also came with a VHS. Those videotapes would shrink down the mix a little bit, but they’d have about an hour’s worth of streaming computer graphics to complement the music. And it appears that MTV Europe would air those videos sometimes.

Here’s “Artech” from the X-Mix 4 video, which someone recorded off of MTV Adria’s (MTV in the Balkans, this one specifically the Serbian or Kosovar version) Chill Out Zone, and posted to YouTube. Wild and weird, trippy, psychedelic fun that is very much of its time. The graphic artists even rendered a home desktop computer in the video.

youtube

A tremendous mid-90s aquatic techno jam from UK wizard Dave Angel.

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chut-je-dors · 5 years

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5TL ask masterpost

Hi!!! Since there are SO many. SO SO many asks about 5TL in my inbox right now, I thought of (instead of working on a crucial uni deadline I have coming up) putting them all here and writing one long-arse post (so that people’s dashes won’t be..... overwhelmed with asks. Also less tagging). So here we go - Hopefully you get your answers here! Consider it as a fic........... it’s that long. Starting from the oldest!

Anonymous said: 5 thomas lane is definitely, without a doubt, my favourite ever fic. Its bloody brilliant!! I just wanted to ask, we know dave got people being rude about john and paul, and then the incident in the supermarket, but do vera and chuck ever get any shit at school about their dads? Or do other parents ever have a go at paul and john? Love the fic, honestly its my favourite thing. Its absolutely wonderful 💞💞💞

Thank you!! That is always such a lovely thing to hear! <3

Vera and Chuck have been thankfully mostly protected from any kind of homophobia. Chuck’s friends are too young to really care about it, they just go ‘ok’ when Chuck tells that he has two dads instead of one, and as for Vera only her close friends know. It’s not that she would’ve been treating it as a secret, but usually children at that age don’t really talk about their parents openly in class. At least I wouldn’t have been able to tell if some of my classmates had two mums, since you’d spend time in small groups instead of one bigger one, and then interact with the other people in the class only for school work. So since only her good friends know (and they don’t care) she hasn’t had to face any prejudice either.

As for Paul and John, at school events they receive a stink eye at most, since the other parents can’t possibly put up a scene in front of the kids and the teachers etc. Most of them don’t care, but there are always some who will kinda, steer their kid the other way. Paul and John fortunately are aces at dealing with the hurt feelings it causes, and Vera and Chuck are yet to notice that kind of behaviour. Dave is a little bit more perseptive, but then again he’s the oldest and unfortunately remembers some of the early encounters the family had when the world’s - and Liverpool’s - view on gay people wasn’t yet as open as it is now.

Anonymous said: 5tl question!! When j and p DO fight, who apologises first? Who sulks more? (Love this bloody fic)

Both are awful stubborn mules!! It’s terrible. But at the same time they go over the fight in their head and feel sorry about it, and then eventually one of them decides not to be an idiot anymore. But I feel that overall Paul would be less inclined to apologise first if he feels he’s right, and John will come trudging over ‘cos he can’t stand it when they fight for a long time. Then again, if John absolutely feels he’s correct, he’ll hold onto his opinion with tooth and nail, and Will Sulk. John in general sulks more I think, but half of it is tongue in cheek, since they so rarely have actual fights (more like, small-ish disputes)

Anonymous said: Okay I have a 5tl question: when it comes to the kids, which parent is each the most similar to personality-wise? Like for me, I’ve always thought Dave is like a mini Paul whereas Vera just SCREAMS John to me, what’s your opinion on this? Is this something you considered when writing the kids? <333

Oh god this is such a difficult question,, after a 20-minute discussion with @thefrogchorus, (since this was such a difficult question and I needed her blessed input to sort out my thoughts) we came to the conclusion that they’re kind of a mix of both John and Paul without any definitive traits coming from their parents (Chuck is a mini-John, but that’s also because of y’kno, being his actual biological son). They’re very much their own people in my head, but especially their manners come from John and Paul, whether it be how to win an argument, or how to deal with sadness, etc.

I actually feel like Vera takes after Paul, in a way that when she puts her foot down, she’ll go through fucking stone if needs be, and Paul is very similar to that. Their sense of humour comes from both Paul and John, but I feel like they appreciate the sort of “silliness” John seems to cultivate a bit more.

Anonymous said: Can you tell us more about George and Ringo from 5TL? How did they end up together and what kinda dynamic does their relationship have? :)

George and Ringo met when Paul inherited the cottage from his grandparents back in 1998. George would come along to help rebuilding the cottage which was in a complete shambles. For the first two years Paul, John and George would sleep in a guest room at the farm since the cottage was inhabitable. In the mornings the four of them, since they quickly started getting along with Ringo, skipped over the field that separates the farm and the cottage and they’d work on the cottage all day long.

As was said in chp. 5, “The four of them got along swimmingly right from the first moment, and the very nice lad’s good-natured, calm farm-boy attitude completed the group in a strangely perfect way.“ “George started helping at the cottage very often, as well.”

So George and Ringo really got to know each other and fell in love during that time. There’s gonna be a chapter eventually that goes over these events, so I’m not going to delve too deep into it now, and some details might change over time, so that’s what you’re gonna have to do with for now :)

As for the dynamic between the two... George embodies this wonderful dry wit that matches perfectly with Ringo’s more good-natured and gentle teasing. Their relationship is easy and fun, very very soft and warm. It’s really quite relaxed, considering both of them do lot of repetitive work that takes a lot of time, and they’re like that together as well, patient and calm.

Anonymous said: Have any of the 5tl kids been lost/ran away at any point and given John and Paul a fright?

I think, in grocery shop, at most. They’ve always been quite adept at keeping the kids under their watchful eye, and the kids haven’t had any urges to run away (because while Dave has teenage angst, he has no urges to like, y’know, leave the family he loves?). Of course even when you lose your kid into a grocery shop it’s a bit of a scare, at least for the Mother Hens Paul And John, (in the early years, not so much anymore since their skin is so tough), but everything’s always worked out fine in the end.

Anonymous said: I have a questionnn: has 5tl John had issues with his weight/ insecurity in the same way that actual John did? Idk I just love getting insights into this universe

I don’t think so, not to the same extent. Probably when he was a teenager he would’ve worried a little over his figure (like all teenagers do) but in this universe he’s always stayed in a relatively good shape, body mass wise (he still can’t lift heavy things but, hey. he’s a scrawny artist cut him some slack) and as such he doesn’t have any insecurities over it. I think, if he ever grows a little bit of belly when he’s older, it’ll be received with good humour and loving taps from Paul :) <3

Anonymous said: is paul always the big spoon in 5tl or do they switch? (WHY do i only think of these questions when im going to sleep jrbhrnsfjsj) 🐔🐔🐔🐔🐔🐔🐔🐔🐔🐔🐔🐔

Bless this question honestly aaahhhh <3333, Paul indeed is NOT always the big spoon, they switch, and BOTH love being the little spoon cos it makes them feels so nice. When they first started dating John might’ve taken the role of the big spoon a little more since Paul was still SMALL (bbbless,,,) but they evened it out. Sappy beings,, <33

Anonymous said: How did Martha join the 5TL family?

In the most traditional way possible: First kids wanted a dog, then Paul wanted a dog, and John grudgingly said “okay, I guess” and then suddenly there was fur everywhere and he had to go outside for long walks everyday no matter the weather and he had to keep a puppy from eating every possible furniture while Paul was at work. Poor John. (But he secretly loves Martha so it’s okay. He gets a little weak in the knees when Paul babbles to her.)

Anonymous said: How old were 5Thomas L. J+P when they started talking about kids/ did poor oleJohn hit the roof and freak out when Paul first suggested it since we know he’s not a fan of kids (except his own ofc)!

I think the discussion took place quite early in the relationship. Paul has always known he’d want kids, and as for John, and I quote the very first sentence of the whole fic,

“Having children had never been a requirement for John to live happily ever after. He would, however, be completely fine with one or two if his future partner wanted them, and he would love the kids with all his heart (if they weren’t absolutely terrible).“

So John has never hated the thought of kids, but for him the thought of them was more along the lines of “yeah I’ll be fine even if I never had them but if some where to come I wouldn’t object to it at all” so when Paul brought the subject up (like “hey how do you feel about kids? I mean ‘cos I kinda love them and I definitely wanna be a dad someday, but ofc not if it meant breaking up with you, ‘cos I’ll much more prefer a life with you ‘cos you’re like the only person I’ve ever loved and wanted to have sex with xoxo :) in fact let’s have sex right now”) John would’ve been like “yeah, cool, if it’s any possible any day i’m game even though i‘ll probably suck at being a dad because DADDY ISSUES” (the key to john’s character in any universe,,)

Remember that when John proposed Paul literally answered with “yeah i’ll marry you ONLY IF I GET TO BE THE POP”, so at that point Paul’s desires were very well known for John, and John knew what he was getting into. And as we know, John adores his kids :) So they’ve pretty much always had the agreement that one day there will be kids if it’s just possible. Only when it became the reality that they CAN adopt Dave, John started becoming nervous with the possibility of fucking up terribly, and even then he wanted to have a kid SO bad, as you can read from Chapter 12: the Bath Scene (which gives me the FEELS). That scene and chapter explain John’s stance on this pretty well! :)

Anonymous said: How tall are the 5tl kids? Just wondering <3 I love this fic

Hahah, thank you! Out of all the asks I’ve got over this fic, this is maybe one of the strangest ones - but it’s not a bad thing! Hahah I love how it got me thinking.

The average 15 year old boy in the UK would be around 5″7, but since Dave is originally from France he’s a little shorter, I’d say 5″4. Vera is 4″6, and Chuck is 3″8 :)

Anonymous said: I can imagine John getting absolutely TURNT around Rasputin by Boney M in the 5TL verse for some reason and it makes me laugh a lot

You are absolutely RIGHT this is the absolute TRUTH and it’s CANON NOW I SAID IT. John loves Boney M if only because they hit him right to where it itches. He loves singing along to Daddy Cool and Paul kinda hates it because Paul likes the Ramones and Nirvana and Rock’n Roll, baby, and then there’s John waving this disco propaganda at his head, but they work around it.

(Occasionally Paul might be caught humming Ma Baker) (Mma-mma-mma-mma-mmmaah)

Anonymous said: Do you have any more 5tl headcannons? The wait is killing me lol

Hahaha so many of them are actual spoilers but have a small list of ones that I can share with you! (Also... this whole post kinda is based on my headcanons so.... ) :D

Dave creates memes about his sucker family and sends them over in the family whatsapp group

(Credit @sunbeatle <3)

This also includes the Pepe. John loves the Pepe. He sends Paul Pepe memes all day long. Paul wants to know who this lizard is.

Chuck loves Pepe. He draws Paul a Pepe drawing. John puts it on the wall above their bed.

“John please stop. i'm not having sex in front of the lizard”

John blindfolds Paul so that Paul doesn't have to look at Pepe

“John I am going to divorce you over that lizard.”

Dave: "oh my god pop. it's a fucking frog." Paul: "wHAt part of that LIZARD looks like a FROG to you????"

Plot twist: Paul actually loves Pepe and knows it's a frog but he loves seeing how amused John gets over Paul's loathing; Anything For The Husband

(Pepe idea: Credit for Maria and Daisy. made us all howl with laughter)

John uses a ton emojis, always the wrong and the weird ones. He is VERY aware of it. Chaotic Evil.

Paul used to have the same kind of sunglasses as Kurt Cobain in the 90′s. He actually used them. They looked like this:

Terrible.

Paul sometimes writes poems, mostly humorous ones with a tongue-in-cheek about his life; it’s a nice creative outlet. He also might write poems specifically directed at the kids, so a children’s story but in poem form, and then he reads them to Chuck (or has John read them dramatically, which really fun for all of them)

There you go people! Hopefully this satisfied your bottomless thirst for more 5TL for some time! Don’t be afraid to hit me with new asks and your own headcanons, I love discussing this fic! Cheerio! <3

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dafukdidiwatch · 6 years

Text

Part 80 End

This seems like a good place to stop at.

So...wow, found the Adult’s origin story-ish. John is literally the cause of their own existence. He copied the adults, he made the babies. How the babies were delivered by meteor I don’t know, but this is probably what Rose’s Mom was studying, trying to get her own genetic machine to work or understand how the alien one worked.

I also figured out how the babies work. It is based on the Hair style.

Rose = R-Mom + D-Bro

Dave = D-Bro + R-Mom

Jade = J-Nanna + J-Gramps

John = J-Gramps + J-Nanna

So what this is saying is that Dave’s Bro is really his dad and the Sun/Moon groups are in fact siblings

And let us not forget about the rabbit!

Because now I have a theory.

Dave gave John the rabbit from the movie. After Time Travel, Rose got the rabbit. It became torn, so she patched it up to give to John again. Time Travel happens and now Jade has the Rabbit, and she probably was going to give the rabbit back to John for his birthday.

Again.

Jade’s present to John was the rabbit.

All the kids gave John the same rabbit for his birthday.

#homestuck #act4 #hs80 #dafukblog #hs80 end

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ashbarncs-blog · 5 years

Text

[ dave franco, thirty one, male, he/him ] ━ hey, I just saw [ asher “ash” barnes ] walking down the streets of crownsville. they’ve lived in town for [ most of his life ], and you can catch them around town working as a [ professional boxer ]. I hear they’re known to be [ courageous & friendly ] and [ sarcastic & impatient ]. if asked, they would say their aesthetic would be [ bright smiles , bruises and scars on his body, ripped jeans, motorcycles].

Hello lovies! My name is Anna, I’m 21 and from the cst zone. I haven’t rped for quite a while now so I apologize if my writing sucks. Anyway I bring my moronic child Ash. Below the cut you’ll find some info about him and some connections suggestions. That being said, feel free to give this a like or hmu if you’d like to plot!♥

tw; bad parenting, mental illness, death .

Originally from Dallas. Texas.

Is the first and only son of James and Vanessa Brosnan.

His father left not long after after Ash turned one year old.

After being left by her boyfriend/husband Vanessa realized she couldn’t raise a kid by herself so that’s when she contacted her parents.

Thinking that their daughter asked fro their help because she wanted to keep continuing her studies and go to college they agreed to help her out. Ash would move in with them but Vanessa had to visit him every weekend.

So Ash was pretty much raised by his grandparents whom he called mom and dad.

Few years later his grandad was diagnosed with Alzheimer and at the age of 9 tragedy struck. His grandma died of a heart attack.

At the news Vanessa sent her father to a nursing home and decided to raise Ash by herself now that he was older. At the end she couldn’t do it.

She tried, but she was used to another type of lifestyle. The only thing she ever worried about was herself, she was used to her freedom and doing whatever she liked and going wherever she wanted to. Few months later, Ash was put in foster care.

For four years he went from one family to another, never staying too long because there was always something wrong with him. And they weren’t wrong. The death of his grandma, and the fact that his parents apparently didn’t really want him, broke him. It made him feel that no one would ever do.

So he went from being this friendly warm child to a distant, cold one. He didn’t interact with his foster brothers, he pushed everyone away and after being moved to different houses and group homes he realized that he had to toughen up if he wanted to survive.

He became a problem child, he was skipping school, getting suspended and in fights. He had no respect whatsoever to his teachers. He simply stopped caring if he got in trouble or got yelled at.

But that all changed when he turned 14, his social worker found him a new foster home in another state. It took him a while to let his walls down and trust his new family, but at the end everything worked out for Ash and a year later he got adopted.

A few months later after he arrived to Crownsville, he decided to practice boxing. At first it was a way to channel all the anger and frustration he had bottle dup for so long but as time passed he noticed that it was something he liked to do.

Soon Asher had an amateur record of 50-4 and won the national Golden Gloves championship three years in a row (2004, 2005, 2006).

He won his first professional fight in 2006 when he knocked out his opponent on round 2. He quickly was praised from all corners of the boxing world was touted as a pugilistic prodigy.

Normally he lives in LA but visits Crownsville everytime he has a few free days.

Personality wise he’s very friendly and a goofball but can also be quite sarcastic sometimes. He’s a weird combination of Chandler Bing and Marshall Eriksen.

Most of the time he’s very Chandler-ish like making stupid coments and jokes and being sarcastic but when he’s around the people he cares about he turns into Marshall. He becomes this huge soft and sensitive man with quirky habits.

Also he may not be very much book smart but he makes up for it in the streets. Being in the foster system and all what he went though helped him to become street smart.

He might be friendly and approachable but he doesn’t let his walls down just with anyone, he doesn’t go around trusting everyone with his personal stuff. He’s very picky when it comes to choose whom to trust.

Connections:

I know it’s something everyone says at their intros but I’ll say it anyway: I want all of them! I definitely will take all the plots but if you need some ideas some suggestions are:

Best friends ( because everyone needs their bestie around ) –––– pretty self explanatory, his ride or die, the Ted to his Marshall, the Joey to his Chandler. (1/2)

Highschool sweetheart / first love –––– could’ve ended on good or bad terms.

Exes (dramaaa) –––– It also could’ve ended on good or bad terms, but to be honest it would be fun to have one that ended on bad terms cause just imagine all the angst.

A fan –––– he’s a famous boxer now so maybe someone who knows about boxing and is a huge fan would be interesting

One sided crush –––– he could be crushing on your character or the other way around, but it would be fun cause Ash sucks at flirting

Wingman / wingwoman

Frenemies

Childhood friends –––– someone he was friends with when he lived in Dallas

Someone he met in one of his boxing matches –––– Maybe Asher could’ve met them when he visited their city for a box fight, who knows

Trainer / Gym buddy –––– it could be his coach or it could be someone who he hangs at the gym with and exercise together. Like maybe this person helps him when he needs somenoe to train with when he’s in Crownsville.

One night stand –––– I’m thinking it could be the whole “i slept with you the other day and i didnt know we had a mutual friend and now we’re sitting across each other for brunch and it’s awkward because i ran out when you were asleep” situation

#crownsvilleintro

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shakingalltheway · 6 years

Text

And another one...

Nardwuar: Who are you? Dave: I’m Dave and Graham.

N: From who? D: From whom?

N: From the rock & roll band Blur. Graham: No, from the pop group Blur.

N: (in English accent) from Bri-tain. G: From England. D: Ensemble.

N: From England. G: From, um, Britain.

N: Now we have Graham & Dave here, right? D: Right. G: Yeah.

N: Now who are we missing…uhh…. D: Damon & Alex.

N: Damon & Alex, yes. Now what about the groupings, like how are you guys known. Are you guys the quiet ones, have we got the quiet ones? D/G: (no response)

N: ‘Cause I would think a logical grouping might be Dave and Damian and Alex and Graham. G: There’s no Damian in this group.

N: Oh, I’m sorry. I just like saying 'Damian’, you know. Dave and Damon. D: So is that a question?

N: Umm, I’m just saying about like grouping, like you two are stuck here together doing the interview. isn’t like Alex the one who always gets drunk and always smokes? G: He’s the one, yeah. D: He does do a bit of drinking and smoking, yeah. Does that help with interviews then?

N: Well, i’m just curious, how does Damon…Just beginning a bit with Damon here for one second…How does Damon get his hair like that? Does he use gel? Is there a special thing? It’s beautiful, his hair. I was talking to him earlier actually and he told me I don’t stand a chance for doing that. D: Doing what?

N: Getting hair like Damon. I have no chance to be like him. G: You need to have it cut, don’t you?

N: Now Damon also really came down hard on my shoes. my shoes. Now what are you guys wearing here? Are you endorsed by somebody? Can you lift it up so we can see? G: Vans (mumble mumble)

N: You got given Vans? G: All in the wrong sizes and the wrong types.

N: 'Cause that band NOFX they’re sponsored by Doc Martens. G: Wow. D: That’s pretty impressive.

N: That’d be pretty good. Now what do you think of my shoes right here? These ones. G: They’re a bit dirty. D: But you’re going for that kind of wacky interviewer look, aren’t you, with the funny hat and the weird shoes that don’t really go with what you’re wearing, so…

N: No, I mean basically what i’m trying to get to is Damon really came down hard on my shoes right here because you know everybody thinks ‘Oh, Blur are mods.’ You guys are not mods, are you? G: No.

N: 'Cause like I always think of mods like '65 Who, R&B, all that stuff. Mods wouldn’t wear converse. You’re not mods, are you? G: No, We’re not mods. D: What’s this? (pointing to crest on Nardwuar’s jacket)

N: That’s the insignia from the royal Vancouver yacht club incorporated in 1905 in Vancouver. D: Are you actually a member of this?

N: Yes I am, I became a member when I was very young for fifty dollars, but I was very young. You’re not mods are you? I just want to get this out of the way. You’re not mods. Because I read this thing, they had this huge thing in melody maker – Blur, hello, how ya doin’? – Blur are mods. And I was like alright mods! Gonna be like the Squires. Remember those bands? Even like Headcoats, you know that type of cool deerstalker hat… G: (sounding slightly perturbed) Headcoats are not mod!

N: Well you know what I mean, that mod style. Like you’re not mod. You’re not mod. Like blur are not mod. You guys have effects pedals. What are all those effects pedals you have, Graham? G: They’re mod pedals.

N: Yeah, modulation pedals, but I mean… G: you press one of them and a parka suddenly appears

N: Wait a second there graham, when Townshend hit “I can’t explain” notes, like in '66, he wasn’t usin’ too many pedals. you ain’t mod. You go to big recording studios. You have keyboards and stuff. You’re not mod. Even your look isn’t mod. Those clothes aren’t mod! You’re not mod! G: Who gives a fuck?

N: No, I’m just curious, will you agree with me… It’ll really help me get through this. D: Yeah.

N: But Damon’s dad did manufacture some kind of soft machine stuff…That’s kind of mod though, getting down with the soft machine. D: They were totally progressive hippies.

N: His dad was like artistic designer for the soft machine. G: He was involved, s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s, yeah.

N: That’s very kind of who-ish…b-b-b-b-b-b-b, ain’t seen nuthin’ yet, very stuttering, that’s very good. G: Ain’t seen nuthin’ yet?

N: Yeah, it’s bto, you know, b-b-b-b-b-b-baby, you ain’t seen nuthin’ yet, it’s kind of like a cop because Randy Dachman, the guy who wrote that song, I think his half brother had stuttering problems. hello! how ya doin’? D: What happened to your leg? (referring to Nardwuar’s cane)

N: W-w-w-well I kinda pulled a legament. D: Legament?

N: Yes I pulled a legament. I pulled a ligament in my leg. This is Dave. Dave, how ya doin’? Now Dave you’re really into style and substance. Now what about the Kinks? You guys like the Kinks, right? Come on, the Kinks, please. D: I did for a while. They don’t really have many records out these days.

N: 'Cause you are in Blur. Now I realize that Blur might know some stuff about the British music scene that other people do not. Now is it true that Mick Avory, you know Mick Avory, Mick Avory, one of the guys in the Kinks, tried to kill Dave Davies? They hated each other. D: Yeah. They were always pouring beer over each other and stuff.

N: Do you know if that’s true or not. Did Mick Avory try to kill Dave Davies? G: Dave Davies, you know everyone gets in a bad mood sometimes, especially brothers.

N: Jesus was a black man, jesus was batman, no batman was… D: Your arse.

N: Yeah exactly! like I asked that same thing to Damon and he said batman was Bruce Wayne. I do not understand, Blur, please Graham & Dave of blur, please, I do not understand the Ryder guy. That guy is ugly. Shaun Ryder. I mean i’m gross too, but he’s ugly. D/G: (silence)

N: He’s ugly isn’t he, Shaun Ryder? D: I don’t know. (pause) What do you mean?

N: He’s just an ugly guy and I was reading in this paper that Kermit, you know good old Kermit – Dave, are you still there? – Kermit broke his ankle, who cares… D: Kermit the frog?

N: yeah, I know Kermit from the Ryders broke his little ankle…now you my friend, you, Graham, you mod effects pedal guy, you got hit by a car. Now there was photographers nicely on hand. How come? Was it staged? Can you show me any scars now, 'cause some people believe it might’ve been staged. You know Kermit breaks his ankle, I can’t get over that, but you’re kind of on that thing where you apparently got hit by a car, I mean, it’s tragic getting hit by a car, but i’m saying in the sense that it was all documented. What’s the deal on that? G: I was leaving some Dolce cabana party so there was a lot of photographers there trying to see if there was famous people coming in or out and there were so many that I couldn’t see the road properly and I got hit by a car and they all took pictures and went back to…

N: Have you ever been stimulated by shampoo, at all, Dave? D: Stimulated, by voisine.

N: Yeah, shampoo, voiz? D: That’s really Damon’s bag.

N: I thought he was celibate since he met Justine. D: Doubt that very much.

N: Because according to this woman (holds up picture from British tabloid of English lass Damon lost his virginity to) right here…Who is this woman? G: I think they sleep together.

N: Well this was his old lover Jane, Jane, and she said she kept a relationship with him two years into Justine’s relationship. What do you remember about Jane here? You grew up with Damon, right? G: mmm

N: What do you remember about Jane? G: Nothing really. She was just a girl. She lives about 4 doors away from my parents.

N: She said that Damon did not have a cockney accent and he also collected fossils. (Dave & Graham grab Nardwuar’s question card)

N: Those are the questions! you can’t rip that card! This is Damon’s lost long love. D: Ask us the question.

N: Whatever happened to the Dolly Mixture? The band the Dolly Mixture, Graham of Blur? G: Don’t know.

N: Dave of Blur… D: It was the Dolly Mixtures, wasn’t it?

N: Yeah, like whatever happened to them, like captain sensible had something to do with them. D: I don’t know. Captain sensible lives in Hullsford (???) now, in Essex.

N: Do you think he still has a career? D: I’m sure he still does something.

N: Where are Bro? Bros. Where are those guys? G: Ha ha ha Bro. Bros.

N: Yeah, Where are them? D: Where are them?

N: Yeah, legament. Where are them. You’re very good. You’re the only one to graduate from school, right Dave? D: You don’t graduate from school in England, you just leave.

N: Where are Bros? D: I think one of them’s having an unfruitful solo career, and the guy they sacked, with the dark hair, was writing for this woman.

N: One of the bands I don’t understand that’s frequently featured a few years ago was the Frank and the Walters. Now you look kind of like one of those guys, Dave. Whatever happened to them? D: Frank and Walters, they’re still going, I think. Didn’t they have a novelty hit, or something…a northern novelty hit.

N: the Frank and the Walters…Now you guys go wow, like the Frank and the Walters, who cares, but Blur and the Frank and the Walters could become one. Like you could end up in that big retirement villa too, as I alluded to Damon earlier. Does that scare you, being put away in the retirement villa with the Frank and the Walters, Dave? D: You’re too wacky for words. I can’t bring myself to tell you how wacky you are. G: Anything for a quiet life.

N: Do you like hats? D: Yeah.

N: What do you think about the Stone Roses since they kicked that guy out who doesn’t have the hat? Are they finished? Sorry, they kicked the guy out with the hat. Was he the drummer, Dave? D: He was actually, yeah.

N: What happened to him? Like he had a hat and they kicked him out. D: I think he lost his “i”. They all have names that end in “i”. So they had to get somebody else in with an “I”.

N: That’s kind of sad that he lost an “I”. Are the Stone Roses finished, are they finished? D: Reni, that’s it. G: No, they’re not finished at all.

N: Oh come on, they’re long gone. They waited too long. It’s over. G: I read a review of their gig, not long ago they did a concert, and it was supposed to be like seeing god.

N: But come on, do you like Mr. Bean at all? What is good about Mr. Bean is that it’s way better than Stone Roses. Mr. Bean, the tv thing, is way better than the Stone Roses. G: The thing about Mr. Bean is it’s not very loud.

N: What do you mean. Mr. Bean, It’s all improvised. G: It’s silent, isn’t it.

N: Are you implying something? G: You get noise but no laughter.

N: But the Stone Roses are finished. I like Mr. Bean. Are you mad at me. Are you mad at me? Hey! Are you mad at me because I like Mr. Bean… G: I’m just an angry young man.

N: Are you mad at me because I like Mr. Bean better than the Roses? D: No, I’d probably agree with you. I’m not very fond of either, really.

N: Have you ever eaten out of Linda Mccartney’s cookbook at all? D: I read that, I read that question.

N: Then you’re well prepared to answer it. Have you, Dave of the band Blur, not mods or anything, eaten out of the Mccartney thing. You’ve thought about this a bit. D: She makes fine pies. G: I like her products.

N: Did you get to meet her when they did that big album all together, did she bring any food or catering there? D: No. We weren’t really involved in that. We just gave 'em an instrumental and said stick it on.

N: Was George Harrison around at all at that time? G: Not that I remember.

N: Are you allowed to meet George Harrison? D: Do I want to meet George Harrison? He’s not a big hero of mine. G: I like Georgie. Met George Martin.

N: Now are you a mod Graham that’s into the guitar mod or ska mod? G: Skod.

N: You’re a ska mod? G: A skod.

N: You like the ska/mod. G: No, I’m not.

N: I don’t want scones or high tea at the empress hotel. You like the Tamla, you like the Motown, you’re down with John Entwistle. G: Kent records.

N: You like Joe Meek, who committed suicide and killed his landlady as well. I was still curious, thought, about George Harrison, and w-w-w-w-what I’m curious about George Harrison is, Do you think that the Beatles anthology – again we’re speaking here to Graham and Dave from Blur – Do you think the Beatles anthology was an excuse for George Harrison to earn some extra money? Like to put him through retirement. 'Cause remember they did the Rolling Stones tour, the Steel Wheels tour, that was apparently to get Ronnie Wood’s son off heroin. That’s the only reason they did the steel wheels tour. Now what about your visions of the Harrison/Beatles anthology thing. Do you think that Harrison did it at all? D: Did what?

N: Do you think he needed the bucks. Did Harrison need the bucks. D: Maybe. What’s wrong with that you know.

N: Have you ever partied with the gang from coronation street at all? D: Do you get many viewers?

N: Well actually the last show and the last radio station we did things for was cancelled so probably nobody will see this. It’s for our own home use, so feel free to expose yourself. What do you think about coronation street, because coronation street is highly rated over here along with Mr. Bean and I was curious, have you ever… G: What about East enders? I like East enders. We’ve had a few drinks with the East enders, haven’t we? D: Don’t like these gritty northern types though.

N: What do you mean? I don’t understand 'northern’? I don’t understand. northern is… D: Everything happens in these places…

N: Northern’s working class, isn’t it? You don’t like the working class?!? D: Northern is the north and southern is the south.

N: Oh, thanks. D: You were confused there. G: You’re very very very very very very very very umm sort of wacky. D: Naive. It doesn’t mean if you’re from the north you’re working class. A lot of the east end of london, lots of london is considered working class. It’s not just a north/south divide, you know.

N: Did alex want to shag Barbara Ellen? G: I don’t think so.

N: You just met her recently, didn’t you? G: Met her once years ago.

N: One other thing too i’d like to confirm here, winding up with Graham and Dave from the band Blur – anything you’d like to say out there, you know shouts out to people in radioland. D: Turn off.

N: What’s on your mind now, what are you thinking? G: Drop in, turn off.

N: That’s pretty american. That’s uh, very leary. Can you give another soundbite, perhaps a Marshall Mcluhan one? G: You’re leering at me.

N: i’m not leering at you, I’m looking at the wall. I’ve never seen that painting before. G: Superb painting. I don’t even have to look.

N: You don’t have to look at it…What’s good about that painting? G: It matches the decor.

N: Now who would you guys like to date – winding up here, the last question, finally, speaking to Graham and Dave of Blur – Who would you like to date…Fergie, Di, Wallace Simpson, or lady Penelope? G: Wallace Simpson? D: As in Edward & Mrs. Simpson. G: None of those people.

N: Well, come on, of those people. Again, who would you like to get with? D: get with?

N: What’s wrong with them? G: Nothing’s wrong with them, they’re just not my cup of tea.

N: Well thank you very much for your time, Graham and Dave, how are ya doin’? D: Okay. G: Is that the end of the interview?

N: It’s all over. I’ve run out of questions. I’m finished with the questions, I’m sorry. Why should people care about Blur? Why should people care about Blur? G: Because we’re honest, down to goodness people. We really are human beings.

N: Alright, well keep on rockin’ in the free world and doot doola doot doot- G: You’ve got the right haircut for that old hippie nonsense, don’t you…

N: doot doola doot doot G: doot doo.

- Nardwuar vs Blur, 1996 (Part 2)

part 1 is here

#blur #Interviews

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hub-pub-bub · 5 years

Link

Author Jennifer Weiner has built a built a career writing the kind of female-friendly, relationship-oriented fiction that typically gets dismissed as "chick lit," with bestsellers like "Good In Bed," "In Her Shoes" and "Little Earthquakes." She's also spent nearly a decade challenging the elitism and sexism of book publishing and criticism. Her new novel, "Mrs. Everybody" is a culmination of Weiner's work as both a storyteller and a truth-teller, a sweeping multigenerational family saga against a backdrop of 70 years of women's history. Weiner joined us recently for an episode of "Salon Talks" to discuss family, Franzenfreude, and why guys should read "women's" literature.

This book is so amazing. It is big. It is sweeping. It is ambitious AF. And it's interesting because your last two were a children's book and a memoir. This is a very different kind of book for you too. What made you try this?

After the 2016 election a lot of fiction people and novelists — especially those of us whose fiction tends to be on the more fun and entertaining side — were doing a gut check and saying, "All right, what am I called to do at this moment in time?" I wanted to write a big dystopian thriller about a future where abortion was illegal and where birth control was illegal. I wanted to write "Red Clocks," if you've read Leni Zumas' book, "Red Clocks." It's a dystopian [novel where] women can't have fertility treatments. Women can't get birth control. Women can't have abortions.

I tried and I tried and I tried and I tried and I just could not make it work. I am not Margaret Atwood, as much as I would love to be Margaret Atwood. Then I'm sitting here thinking, "What am I going to do now?" I always wanted to write a historical novel. Susan Isaacs is one of my all time favorite writers and one of her favorite books of mine is "Almost Paradise," which does the same kind of thing as "Mrs. Everything." It takes on generations. You go back and you see people's grandparents and people's parents and how they were formed in the crucible of expectations and limits.

I wanted to do that. Then there was a voice inside that said, "Is that book big enough? It's just another sister story." I had to tell that voice to shut up because I had to really argue with myself and remind myself that the personal is political and that women's stories can be big stories, even though we are not taught to think of them that way. I just had to get over my fear of doing all the research, which was no joke. I finally gathered up my courage and went to the library and here we are.

I'm so glad you brought that up because traditionally stories about war are stories, and stories about men things are stories, but stories about family are ...

Domestic. Women's fiction. Chick-lit.

If it's a story about women, then it's not interesting to everyone.

You have to package it so carefully. In my reading last night, this topic came up and I was talking about Meg Wolitzer's books and how carefully those covers are designed to make sure that there's not a woman, there's not a beach, there's not a flower, there's no Eiffel Tower with a beautifully dressed woman photographed from behind in the mist. The subtexts of those covers is, "Men, you can read this and be OK."

You will not be embarrassed on an airplane.

You will not get your period. It will all be fine. There are women in the book, but don't worry, don't worry. We've made it safe for you. I hope that men read "Mrs. Everything," I really, really do, but as you can see there are women on the cover.

It's abstract enough.

The men can think they're just shapes. Just shapes. Just circles and swoopies and shapes.

My 16-year-old, the grumpy one who hates me, came to my reading the other night and she's like, "Ugh, it was a room full of middle-aged white ladies." I said, "OK. A, what do you think I am?" I said. "B, what do you think you are going to be?" Then I was like, "Lucy, who do you think reads any book?" Women are enormous consumers of fiction. Women are the readers. We read books by women, we read books by men.

We read all the books. Nobody has to do any special arranging to signal to us that Dave Eggers is OK or John Cheever is OK. We read men in school and we were taught that that was Literature, with a capital L. We read books by men. Men did not grow up reading books by women in school and believing that that was literature. I think that for a lot of men it's like, "Oh, it's all romance," or, "It's all fluff," or, "It's not for me." I think that's really unfortunate. I think men are missing great stories.

They absolutely are because it's just about the human condition and about family and about relationships and about the dynamics. This is also about a 70-year period in American history. It's not a bad thing to know about what went down in this period. I want to talk to you about that because you are a former journalist. Reading this, I could feel you doing the work, Jennifer. Even when I got to 2003 and someone has a Blackberry and someone is on the Zone Diet.

Some of it I could remember. I had my Blackberry a lot longer than most people. I just gave it up. I didn't want to use an iPhone because the typing was hard. The typing still is. I have really huge thumbs.

But there are pieces I could remember, obviously the pieces that I lived through. I remember the '90s pretty well. I remember the '80s-ish. I barely remember the '70s when I was a kid. The '60s, the '50s, that was where I really had to dive into the magazines and the newspapers and the classified ads, which were always the most interesting part of the newspaper. I wanted to get the details right. I wanted to really make you feel like you were there, like you could feel that shag carpet under your feet, or you could taste the New Coke in the '80s, or whatever it was.

The Jell-O.

Jell-O comes up a lot in this book.

It's those kinds of little details that make it very real. Just even the little moments of, this is what the experience of being an African-American veteran of the Vietnam War would be like. Things that, again, guess what, men? There are men in this book.

There are men in this book. Perhaps we should have put one on the cover.

This is a book about history. It's also really personal. There is a very crucial element in this book that is drawn from your family.

The story of my family is that my parents both grew up in Detroit in middle-class Jewish families. They both went to the University of Michigan. They met and they got married. My dad became a doctor and they moved to Connecticut and they had four kids and they lived in the suburbs. My dad left in the '80s, just decided he was done being a father and being a husband and left. My mom was a single mom for ten years with teenagers and young adults and all of us trying to get our lives started. Then in her mid-50s, fell in love with a woman. We were all shocked. None of us had seen this coming.

I remember being on a conference call with my siblings and being like, "Did you know? Did you know? Did you have any idea?"

Her first girlfriend was this much younger woman who was closer to my age than my mom's, which added this whole other layer of awkward weirdness to it. Then they broke up and then my mom met Claire, who's been her partner for the last 16 years. My mother would tell me when I was growing up, I would complain about things, and she would say, "It's all material." When I grew up and used that material in fiction and had characters like complaining about their gay mom, she was OK with that.

As I got older and as my daughters got older and as I started to think about what her life must have really been like and what it must be like when there's a part of you that you can't share, that there's this secret you're always keeping, there's something you know about yourself that you can't be open to the world about and how that shapes your life. I wanted to write about that because I'm interested in women's stories and women's secrets and the way we are in public versus the way we are in private, the way we are with men versus the way we are with friends, or family, or sisters. I wanted to do a more thorough and respectful telling of my mom's stories. That's where Mrs. Everything, that's was where it was born.

We can talk about the secrets that women carry. We talk about where we are now at this moment in history, which is not great.

#BelieveHer.

#NotGreat, also. These characters, through multiple generations, go through molestation, rape, illegal abortion. Being closeted. Having an interracial romance. Going on a sugar daddy site. Being sexually harassed and abused in the workplace.

Being judged for not wanting kids.

Being shamed for your size, for having the audacity to put on weight. All of these things that women do go through and do suffer through in quiet. In times past, there was no back and forth. There was no conversation. This book is a conversation about that.

I promise there's funny stuff too!

There are two sisters in "Mrs. Everything." There's Jo and Bethie. Jo, as in "Little Women," she's the rebel, she's the tomboy. She wants to be a writer. She wants to live in a city. She wants to have a big life, as in "Little Women," ends up married to a guy who sniffs at her writerly ambitions and ends up as a mother for awhile. My Jo, I was able to give a different ending to. Then there's Bethie who's the good girl. Bethie in "Little Women" is the sister who dies. I'm sorry if I just spoiled "Little Women" for anyone who hasn't read it yet.

But you've had like 200 years.

Yeah, so come on. Catch up. Bethie, she's the pretty, suffers-in-noble-silence sister. Then when she dies it's this moment of heartbreak for this family. She's like, "Don't weep for me." I wanted to take a good girl and I wanted to talk about what the world does to good girls. Here's my Bethie who is shiny as a new penny and she's bright and she loves to perform and she loves to be the center of attention. She's Queen Esther in the Purim play. Then there's this uncle.

What happens with Bethie and the uncle, I am discovering, has happened with a lot of women. I did one video chat with a group of readers about this book a couple weeks ago. I was like, "And then this terrible thing happens to Bethie." Right down the screen scrolled, "That happened to me. That happened to my sister. That happened to my best friend. That happened to my partner." Just boom, boom, boom, boom, boom. I was just like, "God, I so wanted to believe that I was making this up." Of course I know what happens, but boy, it happens a lot.

Everything, every single thing that we've just talked about, affects everybody.

Affects everybody.

Every single person in the world is or knows someone who's been sexually abused, who has been sexually assaulted, who has had an abortion.

With Bethie's story, I wanted to show the importance of language because she doesn't have the words, really, to even tell anybody what's going on. She can't say, "He's molesting me." She doesn't know that word. Or abusing me, even. All she can come up with was like, "He's hugging me too long." Her mother, who is a widow now, who's supporting this family, who's out in the workplace, who is enjoying her life in the workplace and probably feeling guilty and conflicted about that, is like, "What do you mean he's hugging you too long?" Bethie ends up confiding in her sister. Jo is the one who sort of takes care of business on her behalf.

As I was writing the book and as I was putting Bethie through one thing after another, I had to be careful that it wasn't too much. But I wanted readers to think about the importance of naming things. How once you've got a term for something or a word for something or a language for something, that's when you can start to solve it. That's when you can start to fix it. As we move forward and we think about the gains we've made and perhaps the ground we're losing, I wanted people to think about the importance of naming things and speaking out loudly and telling our stories bravely and knowing that our stories matter in the world.

It's the Mr. Rogers quote, "What is mentionable is manageable." It's that simple. Speaking of telling our stories, you know we want to get into this. The past nine years, you have been in a very bold, brave — to the point of being really savaged for this — talking about the sexism in the literary world, in the way that women's stories are written about, in the way that women's literature is talked about, in the way that women in general as a group, or demographic, are talked about. When you started having this conversation you were pilloried for it. Now here we are.

Here we are.

Can we just say, you were right? You were right about a lot. In this book, you take on in a pretty explicit way some of that hypocrisy. What does it feel like now to look around and see that there has been this reckoning?

There has been this reckoning. Again, this goes back to naming a problem and being able to point at something and say, "Yes, this is real." When I started talking about it and Jodi Picoult started talking about it and saying, "Women's books are not reviewed as often," and we were told we were lying. We were told we were jealous. We were told we were just making it all up. We were told we were hysterical. We were told that our books are crap and that's why no one reviews them. Then someone started counting.

The organization VIDA every year does its count and they discovered that lo and behold, there was a true discrepancy. They started calling editors and then reporters started calling editors and saying, "Hey, New Republic, you reviewed seventeen books by men and one book by a women. What do you have to say for yourself?" Or, "Hey, Paris Review, you published 75% of your short stories by men last year. What's up with that?"

Also, discovering the rot that was actually going on behind the scenes at some of these publications.

Some of the biggest offenders have been "Me Too-ed," as we say in my house, and are no longer at the head of these organizations. I think that there's been a shift. There are women at the helm of some of these publications, which makes an enormous difference. A lot of editors have tried to do the right thing, have said, "Yes, we know there's a problem here. We are trying to address it."

Even the editors who haven't said that, they get called on the carpet. If they say, "We review the best books and if the best books are by men, we will continue to review books that are just by men," people say, "Well, let's talk about your criteria. What is best to you? How are you defining it? Who's defining it? Who's on your staff? Let's take a look at that masthead." I've seen real progress. For me personally, to see this book called ambitious and to see people call it a great American novel and to see people say, "This book has something to say and it speaks to readers," that's just tremendously gratifying and rewarding. I don't want to do a big victory dance or anything because it's not fixed yet, it's not all better yet. Are we moving forward? Yes, I think we are.

I love this book because it is at a moment when there is so much despair and hopelessness. This is a book that looks at that, but it also ultimately joyful and hopeful and funny. And sexy.

Sexy, yes. Super entertaining because that's my job, at the end of the day. I don't want to write polemics. I don't want people feeling like they've just spent 400 pages watching me stand on a soapbox and yell at them about reproductive rights, even though I want to do that sometimes. Yeah, there's some pretty sexy sex scenes. Honest to God, I gave the book to my mom. She was at my house for Passover, so I give her the advance reader's copy. I'm sitting there watching her read it. I'm thinking, "Oh God, please leave. Please leave. Please just go. Just get in the car before you get to the sex scene because I don't want to sit here and watch you read about two teenage girls and a vibrator. I just do not."

MARY ELIZABETH WILLIAMS

Mary Elizabeth Williams is a staff writer for Salon and the author of "A Series of Catastrophes & Miracles."

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kansascityhappenings · 7 years

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Emmys 2017: The big moments that have people talking

Watch Video

Sunday was all about the 69th Primetime Emmy Awards and we have a rundown here on all the action.

Stephen Colbert hosted with a mix of politics and humor.

Related: Emmys cast President Trump in key supporting role

Here’s what you may have missed:

10:00 p.m.

Hulu’s dystopian drama “The Handmaid’s Tale” wins the Emmy for outstanding drama series. Adapted from Margaret Atwood’s 1985 thriller, Hulu’s victory with the “Handmaid’s Tale” is a huge win for the streaming service.

Showrunner Bruce Miller closed the show with a thank you and a call to action.

“Go home, get to work, we have a lot of things to fight for,” Miller said.

9:55 p.m.

LOS ANGELES, CA – SEPTEMBER 17: Actress Elisabeth Moss attends Hulu’s 2017 Emmy After Party on September 17, 2017 in Los Angeles, California. (Photo by Vivien Killilea/Getty Images for Hulu)

No shocker that Elisabeth Moss has won the lead actress Emmy for her performance in the dystopian drama “The Handmaid’s Tale.”

She thanked her mom and had to be censored for a part of her tribute, which we can only assume included some swears.

Moss didn’t get far before Oprah Winfrey announced that her series had won for best drama.

9:52 p.m.

Sterling K. Brown won for outstanding lead actor in a drama for “This Is Us.”

He paid homage to “Homicide” actor Andre Braugher and his cast.

“You are the best white TV family that a brother ever had,” Brown said.

Folks were not pleased that Brown was not allowed to finish his acceptance speech, and some pointed out that it seemed he had not be given as much time as other winners before being played off the stage.

But fret not as the actor finished his speech backstage.

9: 45 p.m.

LOS ANGELES, CA – SEPTEMBER 17: Nicole Kidman attends HBO’s Post Emmy Awards Reception at The Plaza at the Pacific Design Center on September 17, 2017 in Los Angeles, California. (Photo by Matt Winkelmeyer/Getty Images)

Proof that you are never too big a star to get hit with nerves, the legendary actress Cicely Tyson had to pause a few times before presenting “Big Little Lies” with the Emmy for outstanding limited series because she was nervous she said.

“It’s been an incredible year for women in television,” said “Big Little Lies” star and producer Reese Witherspoon. “Can I just say bring women to the front of their own stories and make them the heroes of their own stories. Thank you for that opportunity and for audiences to wrap their arms around us.”

Kidman said the project came about because of the frustration that as women “We weren’t being offered great roles.”

“So, now, more great roles for women please,” she said.

9:30 p.m.

Riz Ahmed has got to feel good having beat out Robert De Niro to nab the outstanding actor in a limited series Emmy for “The Night Of.”

Nicole Kidman won her very first Emmy and graciously shared it with her “Big Little Lies” costar, Reese Witherspoon, who was also nominated for outstanding actress in a limited series.

Kidman’s husband Keith Urban got teary eyed when she thanked him and their two little girls.

The actress also thanked the Television Academy for recognizing her in a role that dealt with domestic violence.

“By you acknowledging me with this award, it shines a light on it even more,” she said.

9:22 p.m.

Julia Louis-Dreyfus didn’t have time to sit down before “Veep” won for best comedy series.

“Atlanta,” “Black-ish” and “the Trump White House” got shout outs as inspiration to the team behind “Veep.”

“This show works because we had sort of a no jerkoffs policy on the show and other than Julia, we really stuck to it,” joked showrunner David Mandel.

9:18 p.m.

“Veep” star Julia Louis-Dreyfus wins an unprecedented sixth consecutive Emmy Award for her performance as fictional politician Selina Meyer. No other performer has been honored with more Emmys for a single role.

The star joked they had a “Veep” storyline prepped about impeachment, but worried somebody else would get to it first.

9:15 p.m.

It’s Donald Glover’s night!

He wins for lead actor in a comedy series.

“I want to thank Trump for making black people number one on the most oppressed list,” Glover joked. “He’s the reason I’m probably up here.”

Colbert and Jimmy Kimmel do a fun joke about Oliver beating them.

The cocktails they are sipping are named after his show, they said.

“It’s so high quality that apparently they can only make one a week,” Colbert said.

9 p.m.

Don Roy King takes home the Emmy for directing a variety series for “Saturday Night Live.”

He also wins the award for best dad for getting his kid on the air by shouting out to the director of the Emmys to make sure to cut to her.

The Emmy for outstanding variety talk series goes to “Last Week Tonight with John Oliver” for the second consecutive year.

In keeping with his adoration of Oprah, Oliver thanked her seat filler since Mama O apparently dipped out for a minute.

8:50 p.m.

Can we all just agree that Viola Davis classes up everything she touches?

She introduced singer Christopher Jackson who sang the Stevie Wonder hit “As” as the montage ran to pay tribute to those in Hollywood who we lost this year.

8:45 p.m.

Awwww, Reed Morano won for directing a drama series for “The Handmaid’s Tale.” She’s one of the youngest in the biz doing what she does.

8:35 p.m.

“Master of None” star Lena Waithe became the first black woman to win the Emmy for outstanding writing for a comedy series along with co-star and the show’s creator, Aziz Ansari.

She was honored with Ansari for the episode “Thanksgiving,” which poignantly featured a young lesbian navigating her family relationships after coming out.

Waithe is also the first black woman to be nominated in the category.

“The things that make us different, they are our super powers,” she said paying homage to the LGBTQI community.

And NBC’s “The Voice” won the Emmy for outstanding reality competition show.

8:30 p.m.

The skit with RuPaul as the Emmy statue was everything.

Accepting the Emmy for writing for his variety show “Last Week Tonight With John Oliver,” Oliver paid tribute to Oprah — just because.

“I’d like to thank Oprah because she’s sitting right there and it seems inappropriate not to,” he said.

Ann Dowd got us choked up with her win for outstanding supporting actress in a drama series for “The Handmaid’s Tale” — mostly because she was so emotional.

Pretty much everyone is getting played off by the music tonight, so we didn’t have much time to be moved.

8 p.m.

“I suppose I should say at long last Mr. President, here is your Emmy,” is how Alec Baldwin opened his acceptance speech for outstanding supporting actor in a comedy series for his work impersonating President Trump on “Saturday Night Live.”

He brought tons of funny to “SNL” this season.

Speaking of funny, we vote for Rachel Bloom to introduce the accountants on all the awards shows. The “Crazy Ex-Girlfriend” star’s song and dance schtick was pretty cute.

Jane Fonda, Lily Tomlin, and Dolly Parton received a standing ovation.

The deserved it for how amazing they looked.

The “9 to 5” stars joked about being unwilling to be controlled by a “sexist, egotistical, lying, hypocritical, bigot” in that film — and now.

We have no idea who they were referencing (we kid, we kid).

7:30 p.m.

It seemed like the universe was all over it when Dave Chappelle joked about the diversity at the Emmys by saying, “I counted 11 of us here on the monitor” and then presented (along with Melissa McCarthy) the Emmy for outstanding director on a comedy series to Donald Glover for his show “Atlanta.”

“I want to thank the great algorithm that put us all here,”Glover said in his acceptance speech.

“Atlanta” has been hailed as one of the shows to usher in a golden age for black TV shows.

People on social media buzzed over Glover becoming the first African American to win the award.

Related: The golden age of black television

7 p.m.

Stephen Colbert promised a hot Emmys night, and he kicked it off politically-tinged song concerning current events. But not to worry, Colbert sang, “everything is better on TV.”

He was joined by talent from shows — including “This Is Us” and “The Handmaid’s Tail” — to express that while things are rough right now in the world, there’s always the escapism of television.

He even got a surprise assist from Chance the Rapper.

Colbert’s opening monologue included jokes about who the winners should thank (“Mainly ‘Game of Thrones’ for not being eligible this year”) to the fascination with the impeding death of Milo Ventimiglia’s character on “This Is Us” (“I’m just saying, your fans want to see you dead.”)

Viewers who looked forward to Colbert roasting President Donald Trump were not disappointed.

“Hello, sir, thank you for joining us,” he said. “Looking forward to the tweets.”

The late night host then reminded us that Trump has never gotten over not winning an Emmy for “The Apprentice.”

“Unlike the presidency, Emmys go to the winner of the popular vote,” Colbert joked.

LOS ANGELES, CA – SEPTEMBER 17: . (Photo by Kevin Winter/Getty Images)

The audience lost it when former White House press secretary Sean Spicer appeared.

“This will be the largest audience to witness an Emmys period, both in person and around the world,” Spicer joked from a podium.

from FOX 4 Kansas City WDAF-TV | News, Weather, Sports http://fox4kc.com/2017/09/18/emmys-2017-the-big-moments-that-have-people-talking/

from Kansas City Happenings https://kansascityhappenings.wordpress.com/2017/09/18/emmys-2017-the-big-moments-that-have-people-talking/

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ulfwolf · 8 years

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Albums

Albums. They were more than mere possessions. They were a projection of being. So much more than a name or an apartment.

They were who I was. They were an extension of me.

They were how I, in my own estimation, was seen and judged by others. They were how I impressed friends, the way I established my identity with girls I dated and invited to my apartment to listen to them. It was the way I established myself with the guys. As a cool one. As one to know, as one with the great albums.

Yet, they were more than that. They were what came to reflect my emotional depth, my searching psyche, my love for the beautiful. They were what I woke up to in the morning and what I went to sleep with at night. They were my entertainment as well as my guide. They were a path to follow, a garden to grow.

To me, they meant more than food, more than water, ranking up there with air as far as life goes. Possibly—and I’m not exaggerating—my record collection meant more to me than life itself.

I clearly remember my first record player and album. The album was West Side Story, the original cast sound track with Natalie Wood and whoever else there was (although she didn’t sing her part as I recall). I got the album at the same time I got that first record player, if record player is the right word for such a monstrosity. An eighty pound reject from someone’s (much happier for the loss of it) living room, ugly, huge and heavy. But, it was a record player, with radio, and it played.

It arrived late one afternoon in the early fall. Although the sky was overcast you could tell that the sun had just reached the horizon, and that evening was not far away. My dad pulled up through the pea gravel in our old Volvo PV wagon, and in the back, testing its fetters, fighting to get loose, this monster of a record player. My father opened the back of the car and there, eyeing me with obvious scorn, it was. Just like real-life rejects or the little-liked in the world, it held an inflated opinion of itself and it seemed to debate whether I was worthy of its exalted presence. I stared back, slightly, but not overly, intimidated. I am very, very worthy. I know that, and it’s up to you to find that out. It held its horses.

My room, which I shared with my sister, was on the second floor and the fight through narrow doorways and up narrow stairs was completely in keeping with the arrogance of the record player. Finally, though, it was installed under the western window. My monster. Mine. And with it West Side Story, also mine. My sound, my songs.

It was an almost religious experience to place the needle on that first track and hear the sound rush out and fill the room. I felt in control, I held the key to fantastic power, I could listen to it whenever I wanted, I could bathe in this music at will. It really was a personal treasure that soon grew to take on larger proportions.

I soon got a second album. It was a United Nations release featuring among others Ella Fitzgerald’s “All of Me” which just sent me. I remember playing these albums over and over, for the sheer pleasure of listening and becoming filled with the magic. But I also remember forming the first tenuous bonds with the power of possessing such magic. I owned these albums, they were mine, and by extension, so was the music they contained.

But they were more than simply mine, these albums, these tracks: they grew part of my being. A portion of me somehow seemed to seep out and into the tracks I liked, making them, as well, me in the process. And playing some of my favorite tracks for some friend or other, I felt as if I gave them a piece of me, and I felt as if, indeed, I was due some of the admiration they would express for the artist.

This feeling was embryonic at the time, but looking back I recognize it even from this distance.

Next fall we moved to another house (a brand new one, built by my father), the monstrosity in tow. I must admit I had grown to like it though. Although it had yet to make up its mind about me, it did play, even if today (so many years later) I would never allow a single one of my albums to be subjected to that five-pound tone arm (well, a pound, say). This player belonged to another era altogether. You could select 33 1/3, 45 or 78 rpm, you could stack 10 albums on top of each other, and it never even suspected that stereophonic sound had in fact been invented. All you could get out of the single speaker hiding behind the ornate grille (made from discarded curtain material no doubt) was its very own opinion of that particular piece of music, take it or leave it. But it did play, and with volume.

In this new house, I had my own room. Although the house was fairly large my room was minuscule, a large cupboard with heating and a window. Four pieces of furniture: a bed, a desk, a chair and the monster. Then came Christmas and with it the album to turn my life around—the true forefather of all future record collections, The Beatles’ “With The Beatles.” On the Odeon label (this did take place in Sweden mind you).

For some time thereafter the entire universe consisted of me, the monster, and “With The Beatles.” And we spent a lot of time together, several times a day tracking the whole album from “It won’t be long” through to “Money”. This was now the album of my life, it was the only thing in my life, soul sustenance that it was. I played it to distraction, and eventually started yearning for more. The problem was, however, I just could not afford more albums; in Sweden, they were 5 dollars an album even then—a huge sum almost 45 years ago, especially if you had no income—and my album collection remained, primarily, “With the Beatles,” “West Side Story,” and the UN Album.

But it seems I could afford singles, and they started, if not exactly to roll, at least to trickle in. More Beatles, “From Me To You,” “Twist And Shout.”

The Zombies, “She’s Not There.” The Hollies, “Just One Look” and “Here I Go Again.” “I Believe” by the Bachelors (that’s a great one for you, how I loved that song). By now the collection, incipient though it was, began to take on its own life, an emerging presence which I readily adopted as a potentially valuable ally.

As I had sensed from the very beginning: there was survival value in this stuff: I would choose and play a record for someone and that would make a difference in how they then thought of or viewed me. It was a sure way to show and communicate who I was (for the music I knew about, liked, and played said much about me) and a way to impress. All I had to do was to discover the best sounding and potentially most popular records (which discovery had to be made before the man—or boy or girl—in the street made the same discovery), somehow obtain these finds, share them with others, and behold: it reflected well on me and it grew my “hip” reputation.

I had found my mission.

One such discovery—marginally before it became a hit—was “You Really Got Me” by the Kinks. I remember it as if it was yesterday, ushering my soon-to-be girlfriend into the record store to see if they in fact did have it. And, low and behold, they did.

In those days, you could sample records before you bought them (I sampled a lot). Just ask the sales clerk, then pick up a set of earphones, actually, two single earphones, one in each hand, and “sample” away. We sampled “You Really Got Me,” her and I, several times, and for me it was ever after our signature song. And as we listened the record said what I wanted to say. Not by implying or explicitly meaning what the lyrics said, but by meaning and imparting the great impression that the record as a record, as a song, regardless of its lyrics, conveyed to her.

And it was me communicating through the record (responsible, as I was, for her now hearing it) this great, great feeling of a wonderful song, and she listen and smiled and laughed and confirmed that the great feeling did indeed come from me, my gift to her.

In that record store that day, I shared my discovery, and by extension I shared myself, with her, and we became, if not lovers (we were, or at least I was, too young), at least steady-ish dates.

I was becoming the music I discovered.

Some singles went on the road with me. I would bring my new-found treasures with me to parties—if you could call them that—and I’d be the DJ of the one or two singles I brought. Power, here was power. Unimagined, hitherto un-conceived power.

But what parties. We were puppies barely catching the scent of puberty, while completely lost in whatever it was life was supposedly about, stumbling about and tripping over our own ears in a comedy of tentative emotions and feeble explorations. And I remember, at the pinnacle of my valiant foray into the mystic realm of sexual promise, how I actually sat in one sofa for one hour holding girl’s one hand gazing at one spot on one wall without one single word passing my lips or a single glance at the girl. Sexual abandon, but we were puppies, and puppies grow up eventually, as did this one. But this one was sure to bring his two singles, or was it one, with him back home.

The Beatles soon gave way to the full onslaught of the British invasion. The Animals, “House of the Rising Sun” was huge. The Nashville Teens, The Swinging Blue Jeans, The Merceybeats, Freddie and the Dreamers, Wayne Fontana and the Mindbenders (which eventually spawned 10cc), the Moody Blues, P. J. Proby (anybody ever heard of him?), Heinz (“Just Like Eddie”), Brian Poole and the Tremeloes, Dave Clarke Five, Dusty Springfield, Petula Clarke (“Downtown”—what a great song), barefoot Sandie Shaw (“Girl Don’t Come”), Lulu with her cover version of “Shout,” the Searchers, of course, “Needles and Pins-a,�� the Rolling Stones goes without saying, and more and more Beatles, the list goes on, seemingly endlessly. It was a musical cutting edge and I stayed on it.

It was a glorious wave, and I surfed it.

During the first recess of every Tuesday morning I ran down to the railway station’s newspaper kiosk to pick up the new copy of New Musical Express, or Melody Maker, or sometimes even Fab, the magazine—all imported from England. I read these avidly, picking up new groups, learning about new records being cut or released, immersing myself in the movement, rushing forward on this wave.

By now I associated myself almost entirely with music and had successfully managed to have others make the same connection.

I was music.

Fittingly, I also came to write a music column in a local paper, reviewing the English Top Twenty in each Monday’s paper, having barely managed to make the list out over Radio Luxembourg the previous midnight—a project and a sensation worthy of its own complete story. Yes, I was my music and I was the reigning guardian of hip.

And my hair grew. At first the attempt was to look like an original Beatle—lacking any real personal identity I garbed the most successful one around and wrapped it closely around me, hair and all, but it kept growing, and just when I was about to cut it to re-conform it to the Beatle model, I discovered that the Beatles had let their hair grow longer as well.

There was an odd metamorphosis of this boy from 9th grade to the 10th. 9th saw him exit with straight As, top of the class, albeit a music fanatic. The magnificent entrance to the 10th starred hair to the shoulders, head in the clouds and someone completely immersed in the success of being others, being albums and singles.

The monster (the old, gigantic record player, remember?) was more or less outgrown by now. It played my singles okay, but I don’t think I ever did get another real album for it to ruin. And it was time to move on. With insufficient cash to purchase a real stereo system, but with friends who had both the systems and the albums, the logical choice became a tape recorder. Reel to reel at that time, cassettes had not been invented yet. It was a Phillips, made in Holland. Mono.

My mother got it for me when I was around 16. 7½ inch reels, a fairly large thing, but it recorded well, at least by the standards of the day. I lugged it with me to friends’ houses and managed to record the entire Beatles catalog (at that time not so formidable) along with other semi deities. Other music still came off the radio, like Dave Berry’s “Little Things,” the Ivy League’s “Tossing and Turning,” and Kinks’ “All Day and All of the Night.” I kept listening, and recording, and writing for the local paper, and I got myself a shirt with frills down the front buttons, like the Merceybeats, and claimed the center of attention, albeit due to notoriety rather than fame.

Life, at this point, all life, centered around music. School was fading fast, in fact I flunked my first math test, after having had the highest grade in the class going in. Will the real Mr. Hyde please step forward and take a bow?

Then, “in the chilly hours and minutes of uncertainty,” Donovan arrived in Sweden, and on his heels, if not simultaneously, Dylan. Together they struck a deeper chord yet. Both personally—for they did touch me profoundly, although I was as yet not wholly aware of this—and opportunistically, because it seems the man on the street had just about caught up with the British Invasion by now, and here was new, unchartered as yet, territory where I could be very mysterious, hip and apart from (read, above) the street-man.

Before long I had Dylan’s complete recordings copied on tape, and that, for several months, was virtually all I would listen to, all through the much-too-light for sleep northern Swedish summer nights.

I don’t think I understood too much of what he said; Dylan spoke much too much and much too fast for my high school English, but he still spoke to me, or so I imagined. And, at that time, being “extremely into” Dylan, was cool beyond cool. I reigned supreme in my little 10,000 population one main street home town on the Baltic, again at least from where I saw things. I was into Dylan, and looking back, nothing else really took place at that time, that is what I was doing. The rest of the world was simply part of my involuntary anatomy, rubbing elbows with lungs and kidneys. I didn’t pay it too much attention.

And then, early one summer evening, I heard the Byrds’ version of “Mr. Tambourine Man” (one of the best songs I had heard up to that point), followed by more Dylan, and then by more Byrds, and then this kid left his little 10,000 population one main street home town on the Baltic for the much larger Swedish capital, still on Baltic, where I arrived as one of Stockholm’s first long-haired boys, turning heads wherever I went—is it a boy or a girl?—it’s a crying shame, and what is the world coming to trailing me like a taffrail log which in my view was just fine. I wanted to stand out, I wanted to be set apart, I reveled in it, me and my Dylan collection.

These early days in Stockholm saw me without my records or tape recorder though. I moved around a bit too much to carry them around, so my physical appearance had to take up the slack, which it did.

It and a guitar I had recently acquired and learnt how to play “House of the Rising Sun” and “Catch the Wind” on.

This, by the way, was how I found somewhere to live after having been thrown out of my mother’s cousin’s apartment for drinking his wine and not cleaning the apartment completely up to their antiseptic standards after the parties I invited the neighborhood to in their absence. He and his wife complained to my mother about wine stains on the carpets and floors, and did not want me there anymore. They gave me one week to vacate. The first six days passed in unconcerned Dylanesque bliss, on the seventh day I played “Catch the Wind” for the girl in the army like parka and told her, quite truthfully as it happened, that I had nowhere to live, which is just about as romantic as things could get those days, and the next day I moved into her parents’ attic room in a southern suburb (cold as hell, that winter, but I did had somewhere to live).

Then there was Sonny and Cher, and the Righteous Brothers, and I used to play Sonny and Cher 45 rpm singles at 33 1/3 rpm and they sounded exactly like the Righteous Brothers, and I imagine they still do at that speed. And there was the Who and “My Generation,” and the following summer, Jimi Hendrix with “Hey Joe,” and I moved back into town, accompanied by Dylan’s “Blonde on Blonde” and Joan Baez.

I held down jobs of some sort, and I guess I spent some time at these places of employment, but what I did was more Dylan, more Byrds, and more Donovan.

I managed to get thrown out of another—sublet—apartment for a wild party, but soon found myself in my own one room apartment on the ground floor in the center of town, with the greatest phone number you’ll ever run across, 444-223 (it made me and my apartment the logical, if not the only choice, for late parties when my friends were roaming the streets, looking for things to do and places to go while stoned beyond remembering anything much—except 444-223); a single bed, and a portable mono record player. My record collection started again, from scratch.

My new first record was “Mr. Tambourine Man,” the album.

Picture this: There was me, the bed, the empty, empty room, the high ceiling, the two windows, the Byrds and the light Swedish summer night again. I’m not sure how anything else got done those days.

The rent was $15 a month. I could have scraped by on money my mother used to send me, but I did have a job. I must have, because my portable record player became a stereo (so I must have shown up regularly at work), and my album collection grew. Loving Spoonful, Bee Gees (the original, pre-disco Bee Gees), Cream, more Byrds, Percy Sledge (“When a Man Love a Woman”), Jim Hendrix, and my first taste of the classical, Bach’s “Toccata and Fugue in D Minor,” Karl Richter on Deutsche Gramophone along with an album featuring Handel’s Water Music arranged for strings, weird actually, but it reached me.

My little apartment became a regular hangout for music appreciation. Not so much a novelty and expert and an outcast by this time, the world had caught up in those respects, but music had now become food in its own right, I listened to it like you would breathe. I osmosed my albums.

Especially the Doors’ first two albums, and, still my favorite sixties band, Country Joe & the Fish. Over and over again, they spoke to me. Then there was Pink Floyd, “The Piper at the Gates of Dawn”—recently released in its 40th anniversary edition.

As an aside, me and a friend set out one night to see Pink Floyd live at the Golden Circle Café in Stockholm, but (even though we set out quite early) we just never made it all the way there before the show was over. Talk about side-tracked. What nights!

And there was Sgt. Pepper, and Procol Harum’s “Whiter Shade of Pale” (still, in my mind, the best song ever recorded) and “Regent Walpurgis,” the Grateful Dead, Jefferson Airplane, the Touch (anybody remember them?), the Fugs, and West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band (anyone remember them?), and Van Morrison’s Blowing your Mind on Bang Records and the first Mothers of Invention Freak Out album.

They all found a loving and very sympathetic home in this one small and very cold in the winter with no central heating inside and 20 below outside apartment.

And then there was Arlo Guthrie’s Alice’s Restaurant which I learned by heart. Actually, I learned this almost purely by sound, for I only knew the meaning of half the words, if that. Then I would go down to the pub Sturehof and mingle with the Americans on extended visits to a draft dodging friendly Sweden and recite the whole thing for a couple of beers. Yes, the whole 20 minutes of it, I actually could do it, and they would laugh, and laugh, mostly at places where I had no idea about the meaning or the joke, I mean I didn’t know what Thanksgiving was, to start with, and it only got worse from there.

So, they would buy me another beer and plead with me to do it over again, and drunk on draft and all this attention I would gladly oblige and I put the needle on the outside track, got the record up to speed again, and off I went. Until they closed the pub for the night, to return next evening for more.

A bit of classical did leak through the rock and roll universe. One winter night I listened to Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D Minor and for some reason I was completely enraptured by it. The images evoked by this incredible piece of music in the freezing cold of this winter’s night found their way into a long prose poem, touching me deeply all the way. I felt that Bach wrote for me, and maybe only for me, as my cold and inky fingers scrawled as the images grew. I felt I understood. I went to sleep that night knowing that I had discovered something, albeit uncertain of precisely what.

The months flew by at this point. Country Joe & the Fish was a mainstay, Sgt. Pepper a lot, and more Byrds, “Fifth Dimension,” “Younger than Yesterday” and “The Notorious Byrd Brothers,” still three of my favorite albums of all-time, were with me continually.

I left Stockholm that winter for a town further south, bringing only some of my albums (I kept my Stockholm apartment and the rest of my albums in it). Joining me were Country Joe’s “I Feel Like I’m Fixing to Die” and the three Byrds albums. That was it.

I grew to love Country Joe through that winter and spring, along with her.

Yes, I had found a girlfriend and was incredibly, incredibly in love, a feeling intertwined with writing poetry, reading Baudelaire and listening to Country Joe to form a fantastic world of emotion, sounds and images. I was truly crazy then and very, very happy.

It lasted a few months, for although we were actually engaged to marry, she had to take a previously arranged trip to England with a friend of hers, and I was left stranded, and lonelier than I have ever been in my life. I hung around this town for two months that seemed an eternity, then hit the road hitch hiking further south. Finally got just about as far south as you can get in Sweden without running into Denmark, and settled there for the summer.

Sans records again, I used to listen to classical music in the library, and I was also introduced to Bach’s Brandenburg Concertos by a newly divorced city clerk who took me under his wing. I am grateful to him for that, there are still few pieces of music that bring so much pleasure for me, and I always recall that little house by the water where I first heard them.

Had to get a job though, out of money and nowhere to live, and found one as a summer nurse at a resting home. Sedate, but it provided living quarters and food, and a friend who introduced me to the Incredible String Band, a Scottish duo that were aptly named and, in a word, incredible.

I brought Donovan’s “Hurdy-Gurdy Man” and he played the String Band’s “The Hangman’s Beautiful Daughter” on his great stereo system. And here I ran smack into incredible lyrics along with what I deemed fantastic music.

I had taken lyrics to heart before, and learned them and sang them and, quite often meant them, having them reflect my feelings and hopes, but here, these lyrics addressed so much more than being in love, or being lonely, or being lonely in love, etc., they reached for and found the spirit in me and struck chords that I didn’t know I could play. The rest of that summer I lived for and with the Incredible String Band. Fall came, and with it the return of my wayward girlfriend. We were reunited and moved up north. I brought my String Band records, and not much more.

As it happened we did not marry, and I eventually moved away, into the world, finding Sweden too much of a small town on welfare for my liking, leaving my records behind. Much have happened since.

I eventually settled in Southern California for a quarter of a century, before I moved up to northern Idaho (it’s very Swedish up there) for three years, then back to LA for two, and finally up to the northern California Pacific coast (just a stone’s throw south of the Oregon border), and I have rebuilt my album collections many times over, first on cassettes, then on albums, then on CDs, and now as mp3s.

I have found all my old records and I’ve fallen deeply in love with classical, especially Bach, Handel and, lately, Haydn. But I still listen to Country Joe and the Byrds, and the others. And it is still with my music where I live the most and the fullest.

Music touched me early, stole my heart, and never gave it back.

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