#I APOLOGIZE TO THE BRITISH NATIONAL ANTHEM

[rockingtheorange]

Sequel means we'll get promotion during pride month 😃🏳️‍🌈

[draculasstrawhat]

Cos I reblogged the accent post, I sort of want to write a bit about British accents and class based on my (admittedly brief) study of linguistics, and a sort of lifelong interest in the matter, if anyone fancies it.

It goes in to a bit of a rant, but hopefully explains why we’re such pedants about why a “British” accent being considered stick-up-the-arse posh is a misunderstanding, and why we might be a bit touchy about the bo’ul of wor’uh thing.

So, first up: accents in the UK are very much a class marker. I know that’s true everywhere, but it is really pronounced here. Because of our linguistic history, we’ve historically had enormous regional variation in accents for such a small landmass, as well as a second accent spoken by landowners regardless of geographical location. Historically, therefore, your social class could be discerned by where you were on the scale of ‘regional accent’ to ‘posh person accent’.

To an extent, this applies/applied to Scottish and Welsh accents, too. Really posh Scottish people do not have, or have a very slight Scottish accent. This is not an accident, nor something people were unaware of - I was reading a book from the 1930s recently where someone was discussing her child’s education and bemoaning his accent, saying “a touch of Perthshire is charming,” but that he’d been spending too much time with shepherds and gamekeepers, and was being essentially ‘too Scottish’.

So, because the vast majority of the Very Posh and Very Wealthy were educated at about three schools, two universities, and inhabited once social sphere, they all spoke - and were taught to speak - in the same way. The name for this accent, as I’m sure a lot of you know, is “Received Pronunciation,” or RP, and we all know what it sounds like, right?

Or do we?

What Maggie Smith (and most of the other actors there) are speaking *is* RP, but it’s not a particularly thick RP accent. Smith - because she’s a great actor and knows what she’s about - is speaking thicker RP than the others, and that’s doing the work of letting you know she’s posher and more old fashioned than anyone else she’s talking to - but still, her vowels are mostly soft and broad, her consonants clearly articulated. It is stage RP, schoolroom RP - but not from an Eton/Harrow/Westminster schoolroom. It’s the sort of accent you were taught at grammar schools, or small private schools to rid you of your regional accent.

Now, of course, if you speak like that in any normal place in in the UK, people *are* going to assume you’re posh. But it is upper middle class posh, working in the Professions posh, rather than “owns half of Buckinghamshire” posh. It’s designed for clarity - which is what people think RP is all about. But it isn’t.

RP is a shibboleth. It’s actually not a particularly clear accent, and it is designed to mark the people who know it apart from those who do not.

Here is a much thicker RP accent: https://youtu.be/mBRP-o6Q85s

(apologies for the national anthem at the start)

If you see, the vowels are a lot higher and tighter, the consonants less clearly pronounced. But it’s still fairly intelligible - Liz is public speaking here and the majority of her audience will not be RP speakers, so she’s speaking slowly and clearly, and she still wishes to be accessible and comprehensible. If you want to hear a seriously thick RP accent, it’s worth looking up some early 20th century radio broadcasts.

The difference is in the emphasis given to vowels over consonants, as well as how much you move your lips. I’m not good at writing IPA as I’ve only done a bit of linguistics, but to give an example - if you wanted to say “I am speaking clearly,” stage RP might pronounce the word “clearly” as KLEER-lee, two distinct syllables, with a clear but simple vowel sound. A sort of mid level RP might say something more like KLE-ahr-lee, giving more vocalisation to the a and the r, making it almost three syllables, although one without emphasis. Really thick RP almost pronounces it as klAR-le, with almost even emphasis between the syllables, and the stress on the ar, rather than the kl.

But although plenty of people still use it, that very thick RP accent has become almost invisible over the course of the 20th century, as part of (if I put my paranoid socialist hat on) a campaign to render invisible the hereditary privilege and enormous wealth disparity which affects pretty much every aspect of British life. Which is to say, the very small number of people who can speak with and identify each other by a thick RP accent still literally own most of the country.

Even if I’m to be a little less red, the fact is during the 20th century, it became expedient for the accepted voice of radio and television to become less that of landowners and hereditary authority, and more like that of the middle classes. Even ‘The Queen’s English’ changed, as the Queen and several politicians took elocution lessons to sound “warmer and more approachable.” At the same time, Britain had a period of unprecedented social mobility in the post-War period and - much like the American conception of “temporarily embarrassed millionaires” - there gradually emerged this cultural idea that everyone was, or perhaps could be, “middle class.”

Even as this was starting to happen, and markers of “middle class respectability” spread (especially in the South East of England) the countercultural movements of the 60s and 70s rejected this very move and identified itself with everything their parents found ‘low’ or ‘shocking’. One of the markers of this was that middle class boys from the Home Counties adopted a kind of ‘mockney’ accent, which along with the success of a handful actually working class artists meant that having a vaguely working-class, vaguely South-Eastern accent became a sign of counter cultural validity and authenticity. (All of this is, ofc, a vast oversimplification - but it’s a general trend.)

From here we have the rise of the Estuary accent. Estuary English is a vague conglomeration of RP and the accents found around the Thames Estuary. It’s neither Essex, nor London, nor Kent, but a broad mingling of the three. It is easily learned and adopted, and - as a composite accent - has none of the shibboleths of real cockney, or Essex, or RP. To speak cynically, it is an accent uniquely suited to code switching. If you have access to RP, then estuary is an accent where you can ‘choose’ how thickly you speak it, or whether you intersperse it with another accent. (An example my mum always points out, although this is a bit pre-Estuary, is in Mother’s Little Helper, Mick Jagger pronounces all his “th” as “v” - but doesn’t use a single glottle stop.)

Beyond the “clear, warm, and authoritative” idea of a mild RP accent, estuary offered a “relatable” and, more importantly, “authentic” feel. Its use as a political tool further closed the gap between people’s perception of their class (and promoted the idea of the UK as a ‘classless society, which, lol) and their actual circumstances. The wildest example of this is perhaps Victoria Beckham describing being driven to school on a Rolls Royce while claiming her family was “very working class.”

Now, Estuary English has a really complicated place in the UK especially in the way it has homogenised regional accents, but one good thing about it is that it normalises and even valorises patterns of speech that have been historically mocked, excluded, and treated as markers of poverty, criminality, and stupidity. Double negatives, the glottal stop, using a hard “ff” for “v” sounds, and a “v” for “th”, and where someone the ‘drops’ and vocalises ‘h’. I said earlier that RP was a shibboleth, and these were some of the most commonly observed tells that someone didn’t belong. Given that the vast majority of social power in England rested in the same area that the estuary accent drew its sources from, it bears a lot of similarities to the accent of the working classes in those areas - the ones most often mocked, parodied, or disparaged by those in power.

And the thing is, people still have those accents - or they have adopted the similar estuary in place of those accents - but unlike BBC talk show hosts, or politicians trying to convince you they’re a “man of the people,” these people *cannot* code switch. They have no access to RP, and their accent - despite being mainstreamed and in some ways privileged - is still used a shorthand for vulgarity and stupidity. It remains a punchline, a joke. They are still constrained by it - they can’t put it aside or mitigate it in formal situations, they can’t leverage RP to their advantage when it suits, and thereby use their actual accent as proof of “authenticity”. For them, the shibboleths remain - just (like thick RP) hidden now.

I don’t want to call it cultural appropriation, because that’s not quite the right term, but there is something very cruel in that way that - in one of the most classist and economically unequal countries in Europe - an accent which apes several working class accents has become enormously culturally privileged, but only when it is NOT used by somebody working class. And although that isn’t apparent to the casual observer - not even the people being totally shafted here - there is, I think, this broad cultural sense that we’ve been had. That we’ve been played for fools on some level it’s really difficult to quantify.

We have been told that class and accent no longer matter - but every day in our lives, they transparently *do*. So anyone hearing my “middle class vowels” will assume I’m posh, and have endless contacts and support - despite the fact I lived a lot of my adult life below the poverty line - but in any situation where being perceived as posh would get me contacts and support, it’s immediately apparent I’m not part of the Old School Tie, because I don’t talk quite right.

Or how a poor kid with an Essex accent will be told they couldn’t *possibly* be discriminated against because of their class, because that’s how all the presenters on Radio 1 talk, meanwhile whole comedy sketches are still written about how ‘ugly’ and ‘stupid’ the Essex accent sounds.

Or how an accent that is somehow globally understood to be one of power and privilege (be it RP or estuary) and can therefore be ‘punched up’ against is - at home - only ever used to punch down on us. How people who want to ‘do well’ have had regional accents beaten out of them (in some cases literally) and were granted conditional acceptance for it, while the same people who’ve owned the country since the Middle Ages got to slum it down with us, without surrendering any of their money or privilege.

It’s… complicated, okay?

[edited for typos, for there were many.]

[marvelmaniac715]

I’ll never forget about the fact that Wicked was performed just after the death of the British Queen was announced, and after a minute’s silence and an apology for ‘certain lyrics’ from what I can recall, the show immediately began with “GOOD NEWS! SHE’S DEAD!” Also - I went to see Six around that time and they played the national anthem in memory - I nearly referred to Charles as the ‘Queen’ out of muscle memory.

[finleyforevermore]

My Starlight Express Movie: Part Four - Rough Plot Outline (Act One)

Here’s a rough outline of the plot of mine version of Starlight Express (a.k.a. Song List rough draft #2)!

Overture - Control is playing with his trains past his bedtime, and his mom catches him. She tucks him into bed and Control drifts into a dream.

Rolling Stock - Greaseball, the reigning champion, emerges with his gang and sings a pounding rock anthem to the power of diesel.

Taunting Rusty / Call Me Rusty - Rusty, not paying much attention, bumps into Greaseball’s gang while practicing his whistle. They tease him, and Rusty looks as if he wants to do something, but out of fear, back off. Control asks Rusty to get the coaches, and mentions a “a new coach”. While rolling over to get the coaches, Rusty angrily imagines finally triumphing over his bullies, which distracts him from taking sufficient care of the coaches.

A Lotta Locomotion - Pearl and Rusty meet each other for the first time and immediately become friends. The conversation is interrupted by the other three coaches Ashley, Buffy and Dinah. Rusty sheepishly apologizes and announces to them that he is going to race. A D, and B don’t have much belief in Rusty, and they don’t try to hide it. Before this conversation can go any further, Control requests for Rusty to get the freight trains. Ashley, Dinah, and Buffy tell Pearl that if he asks Pearl to race with her she should tell him no. Pearl reluctantly agrees. The coaches then all introduce themselves to the audience. Ashley is the Smoking Car that is trying to quit, Buffy is the Buffet Car that gives great hugs and is a very good listener, Dinah is the Dining Car that is the hopeless romantic, and Pearl is the Observation/First class carriage that's brand new.

Freight - Rusty returns with the Freight trains, who like the coaches, introduce themselves to the audience. There are the 4 box-cars called the Rockies, who love to dance; Flat-Top, the brick-car and punk of the group, that desires to be a member of Greaseball’s gang, but he still has a soft spot; Dustin, the compassionate aggregate hopper; and finally, C.B., the Red Caboose, the bright and helpful caboose that’s always willing to lend a hand. The Freights get into an argument with the coaches (excluding Pearl) about whether it’s better to carry cargo or people.

Entry of the National Engines - The national engines—Coco, the French Engine; Espresso, the Italian Engine; Rhinegold, the German Engine; Turnov the Russian Engine, Frances (now female and named after Diana, Princess of Wales) the British Engine, and Shun the Japanese Engine (Manga and Nintendo are stereotypical Japanese things, and Hashimoto is a disease. I renamed him to “Shun” because “Shun” means “speed” in English, and his speed is supposed to be out of control)—enter, and Control is about to close the entires until everything powers down, except the self-powered Rusty.

AC/DC - The components of the mysterious superstar challenger introduces themselves and build the tension higher until the engine of the future, Electra enters. They're fierce, they're stunning, and they are, above all else, magnetic! They boast on how they can switch and change their frequency, and take a liking to Pearl.

Pumping Iron - At the end of Electra’s number, Greaseball the Diesel bursts in and, like the narcissist he is, sings about how handsome and powerful he is. The components can’t help but be attracted to him, and he flirts with both Dinah and Pearl, making Rusty jealous.

Freight (Coda) - Electra and Greaseball get into an argument and Rusty announces that he will race. The argument on whether it's better to carry cargo or people continues.

Hitching and Switching - Original London version. Pearl tries to find her dream train, but she ends up being left alone, as everyone else either partners up and leaves, or aren't the right fit.

He Whistled At Me - With lyrical elements from the “New Starlight” version. Rusty offers to race with Pearl, and whistles for her. Pearl declines because she’s waiting for her “dream train” to come and whistle at her, and Rusty's whistle didn't match.. She happily sings about her dream train, not realizing how much she's hurting Rusty's feelings.

Invitation Pearl - Orignal London Version with some edits to go into Pearl’s thought process deeper. Purse meets with Pearl and tells her about Electra’s request. She asks if Electra can whistle, and Purse is appalled at the idea of that. Pearl’s dream train can whistle at her, but Electra can’t whistle, and everyone else is taken. The closest to her dream train was Rusty! She thinks about declining Purse’s offer and go back to Rusty, but she remembers Ashley’s words from earlier. “If he asks, you tell him ‘no’.” She decides to take Ashley’s advice, and partners with Electra.

Heat One - Pretty much no differences here except C.B. takes out Turnov AND Shun like in Bochum.

There’s Me - Broadway duet. Dinah isn’t stupid. She knows that Greaseball is cheating his way to the top, and she isn’t having any of it. Greaseball uncouples Dinah. C.B. genuinely empathizes with her and lets her know that she isn’t alone, because she has him.

Poppa’s Blues - Rusty dejectedly comes to the freight yard where he finds Poppa singing the Blues, accompanied by Dustin on the harmonica.

Rusty, Why You Lookin’ Sad? - After Poppa finishes the Blues, he notices Rusty and tries to figure out what’s wrong. Rusty explains everything, and Poppa tells him to take a look at the car behind him...

Note: Features “Let me hear you say steam!” from “Boy Boy, Boy”

Belle, The Sleeping Car - Belle sings to not just Rusty, but the other freight trains, about her past experiences. At the End of her song she falls back asleep.

Starlight Prelude - Poppa tries to persuade Rusty into believing in the mythical Starlight Express and race again, but Rusty just won’t do it without Pearl. And even if he wanted tp, there’s not any spaces left. And right then, Control announces that Frances has been scrapped and there’s space for a late entry. Poppa turns to Belle, and she agrees to race once again.

Heat Two - No differences except Poppa races with Belle.

Note: The first half of “Laughing Stock”(”Poppa, look at you...”) is replaced with spoken dialogue 

Laughing Stock - Greaseball barges in with his gang, and taunts Rusty, Electra does so as well. Pearl isn’t really helping, but C.B. on the other hand encourages Rusty to race. Rusty finally stands his ground and re-announces that he’s going to race, but gets called a laughing stock by almost everyone. 

Note: Rusty and Flat-Top have a little conversation (with their eyes and stuff) during the “Laughing Stock” section of the song. The “conversation” ends with Flat-Top shaking his head sadly and joining into GB’s gang. Before the Gang leaves, Flat-Top mouths “I’m sorry” to Rusty. I really wanted to make Flat-Top’s character arc a bit more explicit, so here you go!

Poppa thanks Rusty for believing in the Starlight, but Rusty believes that he has no choice but to.

Starlight Express: Rusty, unsure, prays to the Starlight Express that it is real, and if it is, please, please show him the way to victory.

Note: 2017 London Workshop version of the song.

[theoptimisticpatriot]

Of Pomp, or Circumstance?

We will never deal with our history if our only choice is between imperial nostalgia or guilt and shame.

There are many reasons to dislike the Last Night of the Proms, but the confected row about the central role of Rule Britannia and Land of Hope and Glory has been a master class in how not to deal with our legacy of empire and slavery. It also shone a harsh light on the hollow parody that now passes for national celebration.

The idea to drop both anthems was generated within the elite of the BBC. This overwhelmingly white but self-consciously liberal arbiter of cultural correctness cited the Black Lives Matter movement as the reason. No matter that there does not seem to have been any such demand from BLM, nor that the bigger problem facing black classical musicians seems to be serious disadvantage at every level from conservatoire to professional employment. Rather than address these issues in its own Proms, the BBC’s choice was to launch an unprepared and divisive debate.

The next few days followed an entirely predictable path. Many on the liberal left (who had never given previously much thought to the issue) felt obliged to support the BBC in terror at being accused of supporting of racism and imperialism. On the other side, the cultural right could not believe their luck in being given another issue to stick it to political correctness. Boris Johnson, who should have been reeling from his bungling of covid-19 and exam results, was given the sort of platform he loves. Keir Starmer, given no space for any nuanced contribution to a complex debate, had little choice but to back the traditional Proms. The BBC was forced to promise the return of the singing next year.

An ill-considered elitist liberal intervention produced an overwhelming victory for the status quo and for a cultural conservatism that does not allow any doubt or debate about our history or its legacy. Anyone who has ever sung Rule Britannia or Land and Hope of Glory found themselves labelled as supporters of slavery and imperialism, so further shrinking the audience for a more open discussion of how we handle our past. As so often, we were offered just two versions of our history: the unqualified celebration of empire and influence or a history that allows those who are British (or English) to feel only shame for the past and guilt in the present.  We should not be surprised that, given a choice between national pride or national shame, most people will go for pride. Yet ignorance of the past comes at a high price: it leaves some bemused about why our diverse society is as it is; it fuels myths of an island nation standing alone that confuses our position in the modern world; it obscures the extent to which the flowering of ‘national genius’ was made viable by much less benign activities.

To open that necessary discussion, we should recognise that most people naturally want to feel pride in and even love their country. The noisy and often influential minority who despise patriotism are just that, a minority. They have every right to their view but no right to try to impose it on everyone else. Most people are also perfectly able to learn about and from history and to draw a distinction between the historically remarkable (such as the existence of the empire) and the means, unconscionable today, that were used to construct it. The oft heard claim that we hang onto imperial nostalgia as a way of justifying notions of racial superiority has, so far as I can see, no empirical foundation.

Allowing the possibility that history is a complex of good and bad, of different times and different values opens up a far richer debate. To take Rule Britannia: it is certainly likely that many of those who heard the words ‘Britons never shall be slaves’ in 1740 did not regard black people as entirely human, let alone British. Rule Britannia was an explicitly political composition, advocating a global mercantilist future of Britain rather the European power that had been the legacy of the House of Orange and the first Hanoverian monarchs. It was a precursor of the empire to come.

But the reference to slavery also had another meaning. It contrasted the union’s evolving constitutional monarchy with the absolutist autocracy of other European nations. In doing so it drew on a British and particularly English view of individual liberty rooted in the nation’s history. (Rule Britannia was part of Thomas Arne’s masque ‘Alfred’ after all). Although the composition ignores the reality of the British slave trade that was approaching its zenith in 1740, those same ideas of English liberty inspired the earliest opponents of the slave trade. Slavery was objectionable, they argued, because it ran against foundational English values. The early radicals (‘patriots’ as they called themselves) chose to decry the factory system of the industrial evolution as ‘wage slavery’, suggesting a sharp awareness of intolerable exploitation. Both resistance to exploitation and defence of liberty run through our history to the current day.

While it is quite possible to read Rule Britannia as hypocritical about slavery and openly imperialist it is also possible to identify, in our own times, with the aspiration to live in and defend a free and just society. It’s a huge and unsustainable leap to claim that the audience at the Last Night of the Proms are consciously or even unconsciously celebrating racism and imperialism. If in that one anthem we can find a history that allows us today to acknowledge our historic role in and economic reliance on slavery and to find values and ideas that remain central to our ideals of liberty, justice and democracy, then we can apply the same approach more widely.

The Last Night itself is a parody of almost any relevant idea of the nation today. It is neither the celebration of the past that its critics imagine, nor a reflection of present reality. It has been reduced to a parody festival of British exceptionalism: the idea that we always, of right and of natural ability, do things better. It is the exceptionalism that has brought us ‘world class’ test and trace, a shortage of PPE, the highest number of excess deaths in Europe and the deepest economic damage. This exceptionalism is not only of the right. In recent years the Last Night has become something of a Remainer festival, with EU flags distributed freely and waved wildly. This is the exceptionalism of those who argue it is Britain’s ‘natural role’ to lead in Europe.

Listen to old recordings and you find that when Britain did have an empire, the audience at the Last Night could sing in tune and to tempo. Today you are likely to hear more disciplined choirs at a Premier League football match. With apologies to Dean Acheson, the Last Night symbolises a nation that has lost its voice and has yet to find a new one.

[goalcaufield]

Better Than Gold - Jack Hughes

requested: y/n

request: we all need a little soft jack hughes to fix our broken hearts after tonight. i was wondering if you could do something where the reader is trying to pick up the entire team and show them that everyone is proud of them since they tried their best. and jack tells her he loves her for the first time

warnings: i cried writing this. just saying.

word count: 2147

With a heavy heart you watched as the Team USA boys all shook hands with Finland after they accepted their silver medals. They all looked so defeated and you didn’t blame them. They all played their asses off, and you knew they deserved the gold medal just as much as Finland did. However if it wasn’t USA then you were glad it was Finland. Both teams fought hard and in the end you knew there could only be one winner.

You had been dating Jack for about six or so months now, but you had been friends for even longer than that. Ellen absolutely loved and adored you, and she loved having a girl around the house instead of constantly being surrounded by four boys. Jim thought you brought a sense of maturity to all the boys and really brought them down to earth, and that obviously meant a lot when the going got tough and the stress got to be a lot to handle. So, when the two parent like figures asked you if you wanted to join them on the trip to British Columbia you accepted gratefully. Jack was obviously ecstatic, he claimed you were his good luck charm and with you being in the stands they would easily win gold.

You thought they could win gold, too. But in the end Finland came out on top and it sucked. You wished you could have witnessed Quinn winning gold in the city he’ll play in and Jack winning gold in his first ever IIHF World Junior Championship. Sadly, that wasn’t the case.

Ellen’s hand rubbed up and down your arm reassuringly as you stared down at the ice. You could see a few of the boys were crying, but you weren’t sure if either of the Hughes boys were. If you could, you would’ve hugged all those boys right there in that moment. Over the past few days you’ve been hanging around them with Jack and Quinn, and each and every one of them had the biggest hearts. You couldn’t possibly imagine the heartbreak you felt. You knew you only felt a small fraction of it.

The Finnish national anthem was played and you felt awful that the boys had to stand through that. But the second that they went back down the tunnels you let out a sigh you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

“I know, hon,” Ellen whispered quietly to you but you still managed to hear her over the loud buzzing of the arena. “What matters though is that they got a medal. Last year was bronze, this year is silver, next year they’re going all the way. Next year they’ll win gold.”

“Moving up in the world, eh?” You joked, finally cracking a smile since the last American goal had been scored. However you did truly believe that those boys would go all the way next year. Next year was their year. Their turn to finally win gold. Their turn for glory.

After a few minutes you, Jim, and Ellen finally make your way down to the bottom floor towards the locker rooms. You would be able to go into the locker room for ‘family time’ with the boys. Yet you weren’t sure if you could face the boys just yet. You knew how badly Jack wanted this, you knew how badly he wanted to prove he could go first overall and not Kaapa Kakko. That was his main goal and you couldn’t possibly blame the kid.

You make it down to the floor about ten minutes later and you were a little bit hesitant at first. You weren’t sure exactly what you were about to walk into; who was going to be a mess, who was going to not be showing their emotions, and who was too overwhelmed to even process anything. You weren’t sure which one of those Quinn and Jack were going to be, but you were about to find out.

You walk into the locker room right behind Ellen and Jim and you immediately begin scanning the room to find the two brothers. The room was crowded from all the families and other girlfriends who had tagged along, making it a little difficult for you to find the boys. The first Hughes you find just so happens to be Quinn, who looks absolutely heartbroken. He goes for his mother first, then his father, and then he reaches out for you.

“I’m so sorry, Quinny,” You whisper against him and you can feel him hiccup against you, a no brainer he had been crying moments before you walked through the door. His arms tighten around you and you rest your head on his shoulder.

“We tried so hard,” He cried against you. “We deserved this, we deserved this so much.”

Your heart nearly broke, and you wanted to be the strong, so you squeezed your eyes shut to prevent any tears from falling. “I know Quinn, I know,” You whisper and he pulls away from you to allow you to finally see his tear stricken face.

“Go find Jack. He needs you more than I do,” Quinn wipes his tears away and you nod.

It doesn’t take you long to find Jack. He’s sitting in his stall with his head hung low. You creep up to him and you sit down next to him in the narrow stall, placing your hand on his back so he acknowledges you. Jack picks his head up slowly and you can tell he’s trying to hold everything back, you can tell he’s trying to be the strong one.

“I’m so proud of you, Jack,” You say quietly and Jack just shakes his head. “Hey, look at me.” His eyes meet yours reluctantly, and if you could’ve melted into a puddle right there you would have. His eyes were bright red and he looked like he would burst into tears any second now. “I am so, so proud of you. I always will be. You medaled this year, you helped the boys get this far. And next year what do you do? You get gold.”

“I wanted it so bad, Y/N, I wanted this more than you can even imagine,” He cries, the tears in his eyes threatening to fall. You swing your legs over onto his lap and push his head down onto your shoulder. You felt his shoulders shake and you play with the ends of his hair, a gesture that usually calmed him down. He pulled you closer into him so you were practically sitting on his lap, and all you could do was try to get him to calm down as much as you possibly could. You rest your head on top of his and you breathe him in, enjoying how close you two were after not much time together the past two weeks. Even if it wasn’t the most ideal situation.

Jack clutches onto you as he cries, and you swear you’ve never seen the kid have such raw emotion before. You weren’t even sure if you’ve ever seen him cry before until now. He didn’t even seem to care how many people saw him either, because him crying over this proved how badly he wanted this. How much heart and passion he has for the game. You loved this boy with all of your heart, and neither of you had said it yet, but now certainly felt like the right time.

But as you finally mustered up enough courage to whisper the three little words to him, one of the coaches from the coaching staff spoke throughout the room. “Alright boys,” He said, and Jack picked up his head to look at his coach. “Dinners on the staff tonight. Head to the riverside diner if you’re down for it, or head back to the hotel to regenerate yourselves. It’s your choice.”

“Do you wanna go?” You ask Jack and it takes him a few seconds before he’s nodding. You stand up from his lap and extend your hand for him to grab, but he doesn’t. He stands and wraps his arm around your waist pulling you into his side. He kisses the top of your head and squeezes your hip in reassurance.

The two of you are quiet as you head towards the bus that’ll drop the boys who wanna rest back at the hotel and the others who want to go and eat at the diner.

You sit down next to Jack who wraps his arm over your shoulders. You lean your head on his shoulder and he takes his phone that has yet to stop buzzing out of his pocket. You aren’t trying to be snoopy, but the amount of texts apologizing about the loss was disheartening. Jack lets out a frustrated sigh as he attempts to construct a response to one of the many texts.

“Turn your phone off, love,” You mumble to him, and thankfully he obliges pretty much immediately. “Jack, you know I’m proud of you. I will always, always be proud of you. You mean the world to me.”

“I should’ve done better,” Jack croaks out quietly, his fingers playing with a strand from your ponytail. “I didn’t play as well as I could have. If only I didn’t miss on that breakaw-”

“Jack, you gave it your all. That’s what matters. It doesn’t matter that you missed your shot, it doesn’t. Next year you come back better than ever and you win it all.”

 He lets out another frustrated sigh and you can tell he finally realized you were right. However you didn’t blame him for being so upset, but you didn’t like how much he was beating himself up over it. Getting silver is better than not medaling at all. The two of you are quiet for the rest of the ride, and all of the boys who opted to go to the diner get off the bus along with you.

There are only about eleven of you, and you all take up about three booths in total. You and Jack end up sitting with Josh, Quinn, and Mikey.

“God, I can’t believe it,” Mikey mutters, his hand going up to run through his hair, completely disheveling it. “I thought we could do it this year, I really did.”

“Ditto,” Josh mumbles. His arms are crossed over his chest and he looks like he’d rather be anywhere else but here.

You frown at the boys, because over the past few weeks they’ve become your friends as well. You didn’t want them to beat themselves up. “You guys gave it your all this year. Hell, you moved up from last year. So what did we learn this year? Next year you have to dominate all sixty minutes, you need to come out and show everyone what a gold winning team looks like. Because Team USA? Team USA is a gold medal team. And the boys on this team can do incredible things if they’re all on the same page.”

“You’ve got a point, Y/N,” Quinn says, playing with the little sugar packets in the container. “It just sucks that a decent amount of us won’t be here next year to be a part of it.”

“But you were a part of a team that worked its way up. You were a part of the team coming to the top, the reason they got to where they’re going to be. You were a part of a dynasty. USA hockey has come such a long way.” You say, and Jack finds your hand under the table and gives it a squeeze.

“Thanks, Y/N,” Mikey smiles at you from across the table and you return the smile back at him.

Your extremely late dinner doesn’t last all too long, most of the boys being too tired to really be able to hold a conversation and their hunger canceled out any ability they had. So, with the wrap up of the dinner you all head back onto the bus to get back to the hotel. But before you can walk onto the bus Jack tugs you back.

“Y/N,” Jack says and you turn around to face him. Everyone is on the bus now, and it’s just the two of you out there. “Thank you, really. All of us needed that.”

“Of course,” You whisper, offering him a smile, and you stand up on your tiptoes to press your lips to his. When you pull away from him, Jack has a blissed out look on his face.

“You know, I love you, like a lot,” Jack says and the grin on your face widens even more. “If I can’t win gold, I’m glad I have you. I’d choose you over gold, because you’re better than gold.”

“I love you so much, Jack Hughes.” You whisper, and he presses his lips to yours once more.

[youtube-chatroom]

Happier-Chapter 6

Aaron had tears in his eyes. Wade was hugging him and rubbing his back trying to calm him down. Aaron stood up with tears in his eyes and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen. He started to write a letter to Mark.

 Dear Mark,

I finally understand why you are upset with me and I understand why Bob beat me up. Please just know that a week after I moved, my father took my phone and ‘broke it’ or at least that’s what he told me. I now know he lied to me and used my phone to talk to you and hurt you. I had no idea he was doing this. The reason I’m back in town is because my mother and father got divorced and my mother wanted to move here. If you don’t believe me I’ll understand. If me being here upsets you to much than tell me and I’ll go back to England and live with my father.

Sincerely Aaron

Aaron folded the letter up and handed it to Wade.

“Please give this to Mark and don’t let Bob see it.”

“Okay I will.”

Aaron hugs Wade one more time.

“Are you going to be okay?”

“I’m not sure but please make sure Mark reads that.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Wade leaves and Evan comes in.

“Hey.”

“Hey”

“You going to be okay?”

“...I don’t know.”

Evan pats his back and says ,” It’ll be okay.”

Aaron checked the time and saw it was time for Not American Club.

“Evan we need to get to our club.”

Skip to club

“$4 coffee. Incredibly stupid”, Phil complained. “Someone actually came up and asked ‘Is that a British accent?’ Like can you seriously not tell”, Dan complained.

“Someone asked me “are you Irish?’ and we’ve known each other for three years!”, Nogla screamed.

“People keep accusing me and Nogla of being drunk or having alcohol simply because we’re Irish!”, Brian pouted.

Everyone was pouting, making jokes, and complaining. Aaron was happy again.

“Delirious said when he gets home he’s going to microwave tea.”, Aaron cringed.

Aaron watched Phil shutter and say ‘that’s horrible.”

“And another thing,” Dan raged, “Yes I’m British but that doesn’t mean all I drink is tea!”

“Yeah,” Evan cheered, “ And the canadian national anthem says nothing about polar bears, snow, or maple syrup!”

“Really? Are you sure”, asked a shocked Nogla.

Aaron lost it at that and was dying in laughter.

“YES I’M SURE!”

Everyone was laughing and having an amazing time. It made Aaron feel a lot happier then he has in a long time and he was sure he was going to love this club.

Evan was laughing so hard he had to grab onto Aaron to stop himself from falling out of his seat. Aaron looked at Evan and smiled. Yeah he was going to like it here.

Skip to end of the day

Aaron said his goodbyes to everyone and started heading home. He hadn’t got far out the door when he felt someone tap him on the shoulder. He turned around thinking it was Evan wanting something but was meet with something he hadn’t expected. Jack.

Aaron didn’t know what to say. He didn’t have a chance to get a good look at Jack during the fight so he was shocked to realize that the man who punched him square in the face was so short. ‘How did he even hit me’, Aaron asked himself.

Aaron expected rude comments or fight, what he didn’t expect was Jack asking, “ Are you okay.”

Aaron was shocked; he didn’t know what to say.

Jack sighed guiltily. “Look I’m sorry for punching you earlier. It’s just when I heard you were the one who who hurt Mark all those years ago, I kind of lost it I guess. I let my anger get the better of me and that’s not who I am.”

Aaron thought about it for a second and he realized if he had been in Jack’s place he would have done the exact same thing. “It’s okay. I did find out why it happened and if I was in your place I would probably have done the same thing.”

Jack shook his head but looked like he still had something to say.

“If you don’t mind me asking why did you say such rude things to Mark.”

Aaron lightly sighed.

“If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Oh come on.”

“I mean it. You would think I was trying to hide the blame.”

“Just tell me.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I know what will happen, you won’t believe me, you’ll go and tell Bob, and what happened this morning will happen again! If I wanted to be beat everyday I would have stayed with my dad back in England!”

Aaron ran out of the school, leaving Jack staring after him. Aaron got home and found a note on the counter in the kitchen.

  Dear Aaron,

I have to work late tonight. There’s twenty dollars for pizza, there’s soda in the fridge, and if you made any friends today you should invite them over. Have fun.

Love Mom

‘To bad I forgot to get anyone’s numbers’, Aaron thought as he made himself a glass of soda. He decided he’d order the pizza later. He went and sat down on the couch and started watch some gaming videos on YouTube, when he got a text message.

Hey Aaron it’s Evan.

(authors note- I hope you are all like my story and I apologize for it being so short)

[fortheheavenssake]

Royal Pregnancy Announcement History

Photo: Chris Jackson.

In 1948, the British media received a statement from Buckingham Palace: The queen, then Princess Elizabeth, would “undertake no public engagements after the end of June.” The message was cryptic, but the subtext wasn’t: She was pregnant, and this was “official” confirmation.

Fast-forward to September 2017. Kensington Palace tweeted to millions: “The Duke and Duchess of Cambridge are very pleased to announce that the Duchess of Cambridge is expecting their third child.” Clarence House, the official account of Charles and Camilla, retweeted them, and then did a tweet of their own: “TRH are delighted with the news that the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge are expecting their third child. #RoyalBaby.” In a viral video, Prince Harry gave a thumbs-up to reporters and declared it “fantastic.”

Kensington Palace Twitter

As is inevitable with time, a lot has changed for the British monarchy in 70 years—including how they publicize their pregnancies. But how exactly did they go from vague, read-between-the-lines statements to, well, #RoyalBaby?

Queen Elizabeth II’s pregnancy announcements, ironically, made no reference to her condition, or included joyful language of any kind. In fact, in 1959, when she was pregnant with Prince Andrew, she downright apologized. “The queen will undertake no further public engagements. Her majesty deeply regrets the disappointment which her inability to carry out her projected tour in West Africa as arranged this autumn may bring to many of her people in Ghana, Sierra Leone, and the Gambia.”

Part of it was the times. Yes, the public was thrilled with the news—especially one still reeling from the lingering effects of WWII. But discussions about Queen Elizabeth II’s physical state, let alone one that implied she, you know, had sex, was likely seen as improper for the “Keep Calm and Carry On” Brits. Even Americans felt weird about it: In 1948, when she was just a pregnant princess, a New York Times headline blared “A Baby Makes the British Seem Somewhat Unbritish: A Reticent People Is Not Reticent When It Is a Question of Royal Offspring.” But part of it was the attitude of duty-conscious Elizabeth. “Why does everyone make such fuss? I am not the only woman who is going to have a baby,” she reportedly said pregnant with Charles.

But by the ’80s, the mood was different. Punk and disillusion swept the land. The formality enshrouding the monarchy seemed out of date, out of touch, and out of place. “God Save the Queen” was not the national anthem, but the Sex Pistols’ song— “God save the queen/She’s not a human being/and there’s no future/In England’s dreaming.”

Yet, there was a fresh-faced hope: Princess Diana. She was warm. She was friendly. She’d go right up to barriers and touch people, while other royals waved from a distance. When she got pregnant, her and Charles’s statement was joyful, and reflected a new, approachable attitude: “The Prince and Princess of Wales, the Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh, and members of both families are delighted by the news. The princess is in excellent health.” Diana also reportedly even chatted with reporters about it.

The unprecedented openness was what Britain needed. “For this weary nation, struggling with no visible sign of success against the currents of economic decline, a pregnant princess will be a vivid symbol of the continuity of the monarchy, with its links to the past and its promise of at least one element of stability in the future,” wrote R.W. Apple Jr. in The New York Times.

When Kate Middleton and Prince William started having children, they, too, adopted the “Diana” method of sharing the news. However, they added their own spin: social media.

While their parents and grandparents did traditional press releases, William and Kate broke the news of baby number three via Twitter. It was, no doubt, the most informal royal pregnancy announcement in history.

Part of it could be the quick time crunch: Reportedly, the couple wanted to wait, but with Kate canceling an appearance because of her hyperemesis gravidarum, they announced it earlier than planned. But also, it showed how, like Diana, Will and Kate are tailoring their actions to the times.

By doing it in a tweet—the millennial generation’s preferred way to break news—they ensured that they are keeping up with the times, rather than falling behind them. And, as their quick tweet back shows, Charles and Camilla are trying, too.

There’s been a lot of chatter of what the monarchy will look like post-Elizabeth, especially since she’s so beloved by the public. It’s impossible to tell—but it looks like there will be a lot more tweets and hashtags in the future.

Vogue.com

[rubyrubyrubyrubeh-blog]

A dumbass British girl responds to recent drama

I’m so angry about this whole drama with Sebastian Stan. At first I had no idea what the whole “take a knee” movement was, and for all of you fellow non-Americans who are also confused , the taking a knee stance basically means that one gets down onto one knee during the national anthem of an American football game, to protest against police brutality towards black people.

Yesterday Seb posted a meme bearing the caption “back when taking a knee meant taking ‘taking a knee’” referencing the upcoming film “I Tonya”. The internet has not responded well.

Now I’ve been a huge fan of Sebastian for around 2 years now, and I have to say I’m very angry with him for the whole shenanigan. He released two “apologies” following the image, where, in my opinion, he did not seem to acknowledge that he had learned anything from the joke,despite thousands of fans who commented stating why the image was offensive and badly timed.

To all of those (mostly white) fans who are saying that he did nothing wrong and are painting him like he’s some angel who’s never done anything wrong in his life, need to back off. Sebastian Stan is an adult man who MUST have known that the joke would offend and hurt people, especially because the joke is about recent events.

Sebastian could redeem himself however, if he issued out a proper, and detailed apology posted on his own account towards the people effected, acknowledgeing that what he did was wrong and clearly showing that he learned from his mistake, he could earn my, and I assume many other fans, respect.

I want to personally apologise to all of the poc that this post may have offended. This is a serious matter that should not be joked upon. I can’t even imagine what you must feel like.

Thanks for reading this shitty response, took me a while to make. If you think any information is incorrect or you think I’m wrong let me know and I’ll change it.

Bye

[pizzabagelstheanime]

its been a while. dream 12

im gonna apologize now that this whole thing is a fucking mess and there are places where i went back to add things i just remembered which happened in the dream. Maybe ill go back to revise it and/or provide some visuals at a later time.

first part: i went into a theater to watch a movie with my mom. i feel like it was something i was trying to watch in another dream but only got through like a minute for some reason. it was a really weird set up: rows of chairs with spaces to let people walk up through, and they were tall chairs with flat backs, every other having a screen on the back for the movie to be watched on. there were like. theater attendants who stood against the chairs without screens. i thought they were actors going to be a part of the movie.

i forget what the movie was about. I tried to concentrate at first but i kept hearing people maybe using speech to text to translate their sentences into several languages, and then the focus of the dream kept doing cuts of people up close talking to the phone to do that and asking other people if this was how to translated it into that language. They were short phrase iirc. One 'language' i remember was into british slang???, i was kept being given gifts somehow? One of my first gifts was during a cut where i believe an austrailian postman / deliveryman said he gave chocolates iin this specific way: there were four palm-sized tin fo wrapped packs of chocolate with colorful, light colored to pastel cartoon bears with ribbon bowties around their necks and they had to be arranged in a specific way. I think the bears were called the national bears. I thought this was just a cut but then i went back to the dream me trying to watch the movie with the chocolates in my arms. so i left the theater every time out the door which directly led out to a path with a pub looking place right across, and i put my gifts?? through? a window? and they just came out on the other side on a table so i was like 'cool.' and went back in. at some point i was like 'oh its probably annoying for me to keep leaving the theater to put away my gifts'. i believe i left again which transitioned into another part of the dream

second part: i may or may not have been with some few other people. we were doing this spy esque thing. we went up several floors. im pretty sure we were in the same building as the theater bc i kept saying to them 'we gotta ask someone whats going oin in the movie!!!'. one of my partners kept like backflipping into the bathrooms but they never asked ppl like i requested multiple times. there was a general bathroom like aforementioend and a womens bathroom. i opened it and there were a bunch of black haired women who looked the same and was like 'you arent allowed in here.' Then either me or a partner knocked again and asked im assuming a different lady how to get through? But the way i / they worded it convinced her. and she knew she was being manipulated by us, and she said it out loud, but she went to get some codeword to let us into that bathroom. near the general bathroom was a lunchroom looking place where all girls were eating. the woman we manipulated said 'chef so-and-so hopes you like your soups, ladies!' and i think it was implied the chef was a scary lady so the girls all ate the soup quickly and said 'yep! We love it.' The woman was going into a sideroom in the cafeteria. I dont know if she ever came out / we were ever given the code and ig we moved on. Also i feel like there was at least two times in which we went up enough floors and ended up at the theater again, and the chairs were all shuffled and messy for some reason and i think ppl were just talking and standing and sitting abt while the movie was technically still going on. Once ppl started singing hifumis verse from the hyp mic battle anthem and i joined in it was really fun avdjjd.

We were then in what felt like a completely different place. There was a kinda square spiral staircase, with a shit ton of ppl (there was no real indication but i thought they were college students) on em and we wanted to get down but yeah. For i think each little flight of stairs there was a yellow circle and a green circle on the first and last step, i dont remember which. There was a little laminated looking piece of paper on a tall railing that described the rules of this game. It was called 'the pizza game' or 'the pizza and lemon game' and one of the circles represented a pizza and the other a lemon and you had to jump to / through the lemon at the last step from the first step. I vaguely feel like i looked it up online what the fuck significance this had and i think i it said 1] it was kinda supposed to be a real lemon in that you were supposed to get lemon juice in your eyes (a giant lemon slice??? Idk) 2) the purpose was to let someone lie again. I really wanted to get through to the first floor. I dont remember that we did

Third part: foo fan. One half was me going into the market, which got a redesign: it was now like a bucket of orange and red etc berries with some ingredients and also chibis of food souls where you could literally buy the food soul and if they had a skin equipped then with that skin too??? The price was other outrageously low or moderate (150-700). I remember seeing three food souls: one unidentified in a skin, red wine in a skin, turkey no skin. turkey mightve been 200 something or 700 tips, i dont remember. I feel like i only had like 150-168 tips so i couldnt buy him.

The second half of this part of the dream was focusing on this food soul and their backstory, but it was all still in game, and not even an event, i just remember visually seeing what was like the restaurant decoration feature? Idk what was going on. I thought said food soul was an existing FS, but it mightve been an original / unknown one? I cant even think of their gender or any appearances. Basically they lived with some old man on the country side, who may or may not had a wife who died. The FS and old man mightve been separated at some point. I was decorating my restaurant with items that were themed with the backstory: grassy floor with countryside background, a wooden house at one side. Maybe barrels and like One table. There was a special item i had unlocked which i feel like represented the old man coming back into the FS's life: it was a pond and a little duck that you could put into it to swim back and forth in the pool. I think the description for the pond was like 'This will be here long after I am gone.' Presumably from the perspective of the old man. And i dont remember if i had actually dreamt or i had just thought of the old man actually dying with the food soul sadly kneeling at the pond. They were always really anxious / sad / melancholy about their MA dying. But i feel like there was to be some bittersweet tone.

[scotchjolras]

Hey Scotch sorry for being so nosy, but this whole Scotland Independence thing has me invested in the future of your country. What could happen if the indyref happens post-Brexit?

Hey, no worries. You can message me anytime.

If ScotRef happens after Brexit, obviously Scotland will have already been dragged out of the EU which might make things a bit trickier. We would have to apply to rejoin the EU but I think that would be the case regardless of whether ScotRef happens before or after Brexit since we’d technically be a new nation (in terms of our EU membership) either way. But the majority of MEPs who’ve spoken on the subject have said it would be a fairly smooth process for us joining.

I think the main reason May doesn’t want another referendum before Brexit is because of the sudden boost in support for independence that we’re seeing. Most of the people who have switched from No to Yes have done so as a direct result of Brexit. She’ll be hoping that, post-Brexit, these new supporters will be too despondent with a sense of “it’s too late; that thing I didn’t want to happen has already happened” and the Yes momentum will die (it won’t). It’s like the British national anthem says: you’ve gotta crush those rebellious Scots, y’know?

And I’m calling it now that focal point of the Better Together scare campaign will be about how hard it’s going to be for Scotland to join the EU. I can only hope people have wised-up after last time.

If there was something more specific you were wondering about, feel free to ask. ScotRef vs Brexit is a really broad subject and there’s still some uncertainty so this was just a really basic rundown... that got a bit rant-y (my apologies).

[savetopnow]

2018-03-11 21 CELEBRITY now

CELEBRITY

E!

Christina Perri's Precious New Photo of Newborn Daughter Will Melt Your Heart

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Kylie Jenner's BFF Jordyn Woods Gets Snuggly With Baby Stormi in New Video

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Hollywood Life

‘SNL’: James Bay Delivers A Super-Sweet Performance Of ‘Pink Lemonade’ — Watch

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‘SNL’: Sterling K. Brown Cries As Ben Carson In ‘This Is U.S.’, Jared Kushner Begs For Money

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[isaktangis]

I love your skam verse. It is so well done and I hope you will write more. I kinda have two submissions, I hope they may inspire you. 1) I'd like to see a serious fight and how they eventually reconcile. 2) my dirty mind wants to see isak taking charge and riding even into oblivion 🙈🙈🙈. I hope you like my ideas. Have a good day and I am looking forward to your future fics (no matter the content) 🤗

hi! and THANK YOU SO MUCH! (im very sorry for the late reply because i was too busy writing my veela au fic) and he is you isak x even, fighting scene, hahaha. (enjoy! lolll) 

“I can’tbelieve you would say such thing” Even’s voice is icy, glaring at Isak as ifhis boyfriend just committed murder. “You should never comment things on thatever again”

“I can’t-you can’t tell me what to do!” Isak recoils, his glare is just as hard as Even’s.

“Oh, yes Ican.” Even states, “I can, if what you said is hurtful and damaging”

“It’s myopinion, Even!” Isak defends angrily, feet stomping on to the ground, littledoes Even knows Isak is secretly hoping that the floor under his shoes is him.

“It’s notan opinion if it’s offensive!”

“It’s not offensive!”

“It is!” Even exclaims and his voice drops amillion octaves lower than before, an ultimate sign that he’s ultimatelypissed. “It’s so very offensive.”

Isak rollshis eyes and scoffs, “You’re being so dra-“

“You hurtme, Isak” Even cuts him off plainly, he doesn’t sound angry anymore, just…upset. “What you said broke me deep to the core of my heart”

“Please” Isak sneers, “It’s nothing likewhat you said to me yesterday.”

Even looksat him in disbelief, like he can’t understand why his boyfriend would lie intohis face so easily. “You said that you’ve made peace with it” he trails offsolemnly, “I’ve apologize to you for twenty one times”

“Exactly”Isak says pointedly, “and since I’ve made my peace with it and you should dothe same thing”

Evenfrowns, suddenly angry again and sends daggers through his eyes, he’s loomingover Isak, trying to use his height to intimidate the shorter man. Pfft, Isak internally jeers, like thatwould ever work. “What I told you is a fact, something that’s been supported byso many parties and sources and I still had the guts to said that I was sorryto you because I love you and I wanted to spare your feelings-“

“A fact?”Isak interrupts outrageously, “That’s not a fact, that’s a vile insult with no basis at all-“

“You canlook it up on the internet, Isak” Even snaps, “What you said to me is a totally different case, yourwords have no supporting evidences, it’s totally based on pure opi-“

“The wholeevidences that oppose my opinions are also based on other people’s thoughts! Andit is not offensive, Even!”

“It is! Andit hurts me!”

“Oh, stopbeing so dramatic, what you said was more painful!”

“How wasthat more painful?! It was based on various actual sources, yours was acomplete bullshitting lie!”

“Jason Mrazis NOT irrelevant!” Isak finallyscreeches, he really wants to shake Even until this shitty man explodes so thathe can finally see sense.

“And the2013 version of Romeo and Juliet is better than Baz Luhrmann’s?” Even tauntsbitterly, “Yeah, not a chance, bro”

“I amentitled on my own opinion!” Isak stomps on his feet, glaring up at hisboyfriend so hard he wonders how the fuck his eyes haven’t fall off yet. “And itwas a fair criticism, while what you said was simply based on irrationalhatred!”

“I have abillboard article to prove my words!”

“Billboardis bullshit!”

“Your 2013trash has twenty percent ratings on rotten tomatoes!”

“Whichbased on other people’s opinions, itwould be hypocritical to ban me from having positive response about it!”

“Yeah, butnot to compare it with the 1996masterpiece!” Even finishes indignantly, crossing his arms to tell Isak thatwhat he says is final.

“Look” Isakstarts, calmer than he was before. “Lurhmann’s version is nice and I loved it,but the 2013 movie is set on the real renaissance-elizabethan era or whateveryou called it, and they even had the actors speaking in British accent, and Ijust felt like it was more real, you know?”

Even staresat him intently for a minute, and then he sighs, all traces of anger seepingout of his body. “It’s just-” he mumbles quietly, walking closer to Isak,crouching down a bit until they’re resting their foreheads against each other. “Ourfirst kiss was underwater and we’re in a pool”

Isakfrowns, not following through. “Huh?”

“You know”Even says a little bit shyly, “like in the ’96 version”

There’s athirty worth of silence before Isak wheezes, “Oh my God”, he turns away from Even, face palming and trying sohard not to burst out laughing. “That’s what all this about?” He asks incredulously,shoulders are shaking as laughter helplessly rack through him, “Even, you fucking nerd”

“Hey” Evenwhines pathetically, “it’s a coincidence that I would cherish until the day I die,okay?”

“Oh my god”Isak says again, rolling his eyes. “You are such a dramatic loser.”

“I’m not adramatic loser” Even pouts, taking Isak’s hands into his, “I’m your dramatic loser”

“Oh, fuckoff” Isak slaps his chest, chuckling. Then his face shifts, brown-green eyesstaring up at the blue ones sharply. “And you still owe me an apology”

Even tiltshis eyebrows, silently asking Isak if he’s serious, are you really doing this?

Oh yes, heis. Isak raises his brow back, crossing his arms and keeps eyeing himpointedly.

Even’sshoulders slump, defeated. “I’m sorry. Jason Mraz is still relevant” he weaklysays awful lie.

Isak purseshis lips, narrowing his gaze at Even, trying to make sure if he’s being genuineor not. Thankfully, Even is a good actor, so he beams, obviously buying to hisboyfriend’s words. “Okay” he chimes, “apology accepted”

Even biteshis lower lip, it takes every bone in his body (dick included) to refrain fromlaughing at how cute and ridiculous his boyfriend is. Of all sappy musiciansthere is, Isak has to be Jason Mraz’s number one fanboy.

“Thank you”Even smiles, he’s so going to use the fanboy!Isak card near in the future. Atleast Even’s not a whipped and obsessed worshipper over an overnight guitarplayer-sappy singer sensation. He has better music taste, thank you very much.

Well, Gabrielleis excluded,  her song is a nationalanthem after all.

[jillmckenzie1]

Colin Kaepernick – Apology Accepted?

Following the tragic death of George Floyd and subsequent protests that have erupted across the country, Commissioner Roger Goodell issued a statement last week in which he apologized on the behalf of the owners and the league for failing to support the NFL players’ right to protest, specifically referring to those who knelt in protest back in 2016.

“We, the NFL, condemn racism and systematic oppression of Black People.  We, the NFL, admit we were wrong for not listening to NFL players earlier and encourage all to speak out and peacefully protest.  We, the NFL, believe Black Lives Matter.” Goodell would say.  The statement would later acknowledge the importance of the player protest and its specific focus on police brutality.

The name Colin Kaepernick was never mentioned.

Kaepernick first started his protest in the early season of 2016 in which he would kneel during the National Anthem with the direct intent to shed light on social justice, including police brutality.  At the time, many misunderstood the message, accused the backup quarterback of trying to draw attention to himself, and considered it an isolated incident.  After all, he was a millionaire quarterback in the NFL.  What does he have to protest about?

The protesting eventually subsided, and the NFL went back to work, but Kaepernick never played another down of football. The rationalization was that a 30-year-old backup quarterback with a high salary just was not worth a roster spot. After all, Kaepernick had just gone 1-10 his last season starting with the San Francisco 49ers, had recently been replaced by journeyman Blaine Gabbert, and was a public relations nightmare. It wasn’t about racism or systematic oppression; it was about ability.

As Denver Broncos head coach Vic Fangio would say, “I don’t see racism at all in the NFL, I don’t see discrimination in the NFL.”

A locker room full of diversity and a team fighting for one purpose—how can we call football racist?  Just because the league has only three black head coaches and two black GMs?  Just because the owners are all white?  Just because the owners shutdown a little protest?  Just because most the league thought Lamar Jackson could be better suited as a wide receiver?  Or the admission of the Rooney Rule, which forces teams to at least interview one person of color for head coaching or head office jobs, and by rule itself, implies that the league discriminates in its hiring practices?

Fine.  But there is no racism or systematic oppression in the NBA.  Not anymore.

Long gone are the days of only playing for the Harlem Globetrotters, Bill Russell being traded to the only team willing to start him, and Donald Sterling tape recordings. Steph Curry and others can show up in “I Can’t Breathe” t-shirts to honor Eric Garner, James Harden can wear a hoodie for Trayvon Martin, and while the league can technically fine them for it, they generally decide not to.  Although blacks are still underrepresented in ownership, GMs, and coaching numbers, the league is practically racism free.  Not including the Sterling Brown incident, the racist words spray painted outside of Lebron’s Brentwood estate in Los Angeles, or the suggestion from Laura Ingraham that Lebron “Just shut-up and dribble.”

Tennis may not be the best example as Serena Williams boycotted Indian Wells for years after alleged racial slurs came her way in 2001.  And Jeff Blake was just minding his own business when a cop tackled him in front of the Grand Hyatt in Manhattan after a case of mistaken identity back in 2015.  But presumably, the dress code of wearing all white at Wimbledon is based on British Royalty’s loathing of sweat stains, not a statement of race.

Even baseball, the sport that kept blacks out of the league until Jackie Robinson in 1947, still only has 7.7% of today’s players in the sport, and very few black managers, GMs, or majority owners.  As a league, MLB failed to join in the protesting back in 2016 as Baltimore outfielder noted the lack of black athletes as the issue.

“In football, you can’t kick them out.  You need those players. In baseball, they don’t need us,” Jones would say. “Baseball is a white man’s sport.”

Back to Colin Kaepernick.  Roger Goodell apologized on behalf of the league, Kaepernick pledged over a million dollars of his own money to help fight social injustice, he warned of police brutality and racism in society, protested peacefully, and despite having 58 career starts with 72 TDs, 12,000 passing, and 2,300 yards rushing, never got another chance in the NFL.

One can argue that, like Drew Brees, the way in which Colin Kaepernick protested offended you.  And one can argue that Kaepernick’s lack of employment is due to a regressing skill set and not racism or systematic oppression.  But like the NFL, the owners, and Roger Goodell, you can no longer argue about the intent or importance of his message.

  Images via al.com, cbsnews.com, npr.com, huffpost.com, blacktennispros.com, kcfastpitch.com, latimes.com

from Blog https://ondenver.com/colin-kaepernick-apology-accepted/

[jonboudposts]

Stop Crying for Boris Johnson

In the middle of the Corona Virus pandemic, the Prime Minister was taken into intensive care for what until then seemed like a case of skiving more than full-on sickness.  The weirdest and saddest sight has been left-wing commentators, activists or just wet people on Twitter and the like feeling a need to write support for Boris Johnson. The reason for doing so are more about a cultural weakness than any real commitment.  More out of fear of judgement because, after all, who with any decency could really care about Boris Johnson?

This idiot got Corona Virus through his own actions.  The same total irresponsibility he has displayed his whole overprivileged life.  All those people in parks over the weekend we are encouraged to condemn; the prime minister is one of those, but even more ignorant because the best-informed scientific minds in the country have been telling him what needs doing for a couple of months and he ignored it.  It seems strangely appropriate that Boris Johnson may die from the thing he and his extremist advisers made such a crap job of preparing for both personally and professionally because it does not match their political ideology to act on it.  

On the 3 March he talked about shaking hands in a hospital with people probably infected with Corona.  He also wanted all of us to get Covid-19 to create a heard immunity that is not only scientifically improbable but would involve many people – your friends, loved ones and work colleges and mine – dying.  Many of them already have because the government failed to take action quickly enough and now, we see exposed the full damage that ten years of austerity has done to the NHS and wider society, all under governments of varying Conservative stripe.  We are seeing increasing numbers of NHS workers dying trying to save all our lives, while the empty gesture brigade clap them on once a week (even ones who have voted Tory).  

The media have collectively forgotten all this; because to do otherwise would mean admitting they are wrong in their political support for this totally inept and extreme government – and I am the one scoring political points here? The British media is totally broken and cares more for attacking dissenters than reporting.  The level of carelessness toward the sick is breath-taking, as the BBC evening news discusses those old and infirm or suffering pre-existing conditions as people who would ‘have dies soon anyway’ (a literal line from The Day Today).  Unlike Boris Johnson of course, who is ‘a fighter’ (indicating that all those other people killed by this bastard virus were not).

But most importantly, no one on the right – politicians, newspaper owners, supposed writers or just dickheads screaming because the BBC have not played the national anthem today – would ever extend any understanding or care toward the left; or any notion of equality.  Come the day Jeremy Corbyn dies, these fuckers will gloat like there is no tomorrow; while now they shout on social media saying ‘the left’ are hypocrites for not caring about Boris Johnson, even when you do express such misguided care.   But most importantly, left-wing campaigners and commentators are regularly threatened with death, rape and other serious violence.  We are often subjected to it too.  Whatever I write, even if mildly critical of the PM at this time will always be thrown back at me by trolls and right-wing scum.  If I express any care or sympathy, it would be sneered at and disbelieved; so you cannot win with these people, no matter what.

Yet the same media, politicians, permanently online saddos and un-fuckable freaks never stand up for us or support the freedom of speech to say you hate this government or think soldiers and police are not heroes.  When you are threatened, they agree and amplify – from a safe distance naturally, as they are all utter cowards.  As I write this, they are all over Twitter calling left wingers childish names.  With this in mind, why on earth would make the effort to kiss up to these people?  

They know perfectly well that when you give an inch to the likes of them, it’s over for you.  None of them care what you or I think in the same way I could not give a rusty fuck about their opinions – they just want the power over you.  They want to make you apologise for doing nothing wrong or over something they do not even really care about because it makes you – and us – weak.  Always on the defensive, always fighting back.  We are the ones who believe in things; the right are a gaggle of scumbags who love only their own enrichment at the expense of those most vulnerable.

They wish they could suppress the left, like Orban or Duterte, among their fascist heroes.  But our political movement, for all the faults, has always been too strong and right to be repressed.  Really, they want us to die, preferably in the most violent ways possible and with a dose of sexual violence if you are a woman.  When you simper to them, what do you really imagine this achieves?  

While I rarely wish anyone suffering, I do not care about Boris Johnson. With or without Corona Virus running around his bloodstream, he is still a racist, homophobic, flag-waving twat who is responsible for poverty, injustice and death in Britain.  He is authoritarian, intolerant of anyone who challenges him and was involved in a situation last year with his now-pregnant partner that sounds awfully like domestic violence.  He is an awful man no matter what position he holds or where he comes from.  The best reason for his to survive is so he can go on trail for all the deaths in Britain from Covid-19 caused by him and his degenerate eugenicist adviser Dominic Cummings. This feudal-obsessed shithole of a country just bows and scrapes to the likes of him out of fear and habit.  

But still they Tweet and announce how they are ‘thinking of him and his family’. London mayor Sadiq Khan Tweets his prayers for Boris, who is an Islamophobe who refuses to investigate his political party that is full of Muslim-haters.  When fascist and far-right groups march in the UK these days (back when we were allowed outside), they have chanted the name ‘Boris’ and proclaimed him ‘their’ PM. That has never happened before.

Who do you people think you are kidding trying to make out this man has anything decent within him?  Take a look at Britain; with a failing healthcare system, increased hate crime and racist attacks, life-destroying levels of grinding poverty and a media that refuses anything other than the establishment line.  Boris Johnson has been fundamental is turning Britain into a cruel, cold failed state.  This is what you get when you send in the clowns.  These are the things we should be concentrating on changing; not a pathetic game of back-and-forth with a soulless runt of self-made human garbage.

The man who has led a government of over-privileged white power extremists has become a victim of his own actions; plain and simple.  He took on survival of the fittest; let’s see if he lives through it.

But whatever happens, do not come sniffing around here for an apology for anything I have said here; or for help whitewashing this vile man’s record.  Too many decent, innocent people have died in Britain due to Corona Virus.  Boris Johnson will not be one of them.

[torentialtribute]

Danny Baker back on air with Gary Lineker following BBC axe

He may have been fired by the BBC but Danny Baker will be back in the air with star broadcaster Gary Lineker later this week.

The former 5 Live presenter was quickly fired over a tweet with a couple holding hands with a chimpanzee wearing clothing with the caption & # 39; Royal Baby leaving the hospital & # 39 ;

Some claimed that the tweet that Baker had removed and described as a & # 39; stupid and thoughtless gag & # 39 ;, mocked the racial heritage of the Duchess of Sussex .

No episodes from the entertaining Lineker & Baker: The Behind Closed Doors podcast, recorded in Lineker's kitchen, has been broadcast ever since.

However, that will soon change with a new show that will appear later this week. Lineker tweeted to say that the return & # 39; after a summer vacation & # 39; coming.

Danny Baker will be back on the air later with Gary Lineker

SOLSKJAER TOLD TO USE THE GAFFER PARKING SPOT

Ed Woodward encouraged Ole Gunnar Solskjaer to start parking at the manager's Carrington training ground in Manchester United.

The Norwegian was reluctant to use the space, seeing it as & # 39; the place of the giver (Sir Alex Ferguson) & # 39; which he did not feel comfortable with.

However, Vice-Chairman Woodward, perhaps wary of constant jibes that United lives in the past or perhaps of the radical opinion, is Ion that the manager must park in the manager's parking lot if the help the club move forward and has expressed its feelings.

Ole Gunnar Solskjaer is encouraged to park on the manager's spot on Carrington

LARGE THREE ROTATED BY EARLY WINDOW

During a recent meeting between Premier League managers, the subject of the English window closed three weeks earlier than in Europe

Three managers in particular very clear opinions on this, according to those present, and they were Pep Guardiola, Jurgen Klopp and Mauricio Pochettino.

Tottenham chief Pochettino, whose club may have lowered the bids of the continent for some of their players, including Christian Eriksen, who changed the game against Aston Villa on Saturday and then used his pre-match press conference to to complain about the different public deadlines.

There is a feeling among coaches from clubs outside the Big Six that if the prominent bosses continue to lobby against the mismatched windows, the league will consider changing things back to how they were.

LANCASHIRE FACE LOCATION DIHEMME AXLES CLOSED WITH T20

More fun and games in Lancashire. Last year, the Red Rose region saw the prospect of giving up home advantage in the T20 Blast quarterfinals thanks to a potential collision with a Liam Gallagher concert, which was then avoided when the results meant that they would eventually play.

This year, with Lancashire at the top of the northern group, it is the Ashes Test in Old Trafford that coincides with the last eight dates.

The county says they are in talks with the ECB about possible locations. Given that the options for outdoor use are limited, there may be a neutral site on the map.

Meanwhile, Lancashire officials have apologized for confusion about reimbursements for Friday's washed-out rose affair. Initially, the club said members would not get a face value.

Later, however, they clarified that members who had paid extra for T20 tickets would be reimbursed, although those with T20 season tickets are not entitled to a refund unless further competitions have been washed away.

FIFA APOLOGY FOR LANDING BROADCASTER IN HOT WATER

FIFA accidentally ran a small British broadcaster in The problems were raised after a member of his commentary team for the U20 World Cup was bugged with & # 39; f *** & # 39; *** hell & # 39; along the microphone for the collision of Ecuador with Italy.

FIFA & # 39; unconditionally apologized and blamed the language heard during the Ecuadorian national anthem for a & # 39; audio interference & # 39 ;. But Freesports, which used the FIFA feed for broadcast in the UK, was drawn to Ofcom.

The watchdog discovered that it had violated the rules of offensive language before the watershed and the freesports will now have a stamp on the plate.

SAINT LIVES NAME AS THEY ARE OUTSIDE

Southampton are truly the saints if their pre-season tour shenanigans – or lack thereof – were anything to go by.

The outfit of the St Mary is managed by teetotaler Ralph Hasenhuttl and went to the homeland of Austria for a summer camp.

Players were banned from drinking and, in a show of austerity solidarity, the back room staff of the club promised to stay out of the doll for the entire trip.

Teetotaler Southampton boss Ralph Hasenhuttl has put his players on a drink ban

PAN AMERICAN GAMES MODEL FOR THE UK AFTER BREXIT

More than 20 British companies, from public relations to signage and site construction, have been involved in the Pan American Games that were concluded Sunday in Lima.

Many of those involved are London 2012 veterans and their input has provided much needed export boost for Brexit.

Two years ago, the government signed a unique deal with their Peruvian counterparts, little knowing that the event might become a much needed example of how the UK can operate after the expected departure from the European Union.

WOMEN'S CRICKET GETS COMMONWEALTH GAME SPOT

Women's cricket will be announced Tuesday as part of the 2022 Commonwealth Games in Birmingham.

The news is delivered to Edgbaston, where games are played after a successful joint bid from the International Cricket Council and the Cricket Board of England and Wales.

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