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clarklovescarole · 2 months ago

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January 1941: Divorce Rumors Laughable

January 3, 1941 – The Atlanta Journal

Truesdell Nails Rumor About Clark and Carole

By John Truesdell

Another Hollywood whispering campaign has started. One columnist was bold enough to hint at names. Most of the others have been hiding behind veiled innuendos. All over the country blind items have been popping up in the columns similar to: “What big-time screen couple, both stars, are heading for the rocks?”

The only way to scotch rumors of this kind is to name names and tell the story. So, instead of inviting you to a guessing contest, this column hereby deals the straight dope on what promises to be the most malicious guessing contest of the season.

Carole Lombard and Clark Gable are the people involved. They have for so long been considered Hollywood’s happiest screen marrieds that any excuse, no matter how far-fetched, seems to have given the twitter columns that much more impetus for rushing into print with this so-called Lombard-Gable marital bust-up.

Clark and Carole, before they left Hollywood a few days ago, could do nothing but laugh at these rumors. After Clark has his shoulder fixed up at Johns Hopkins, where he is now, the couple plan to fly to Brownsville, Texas. From there, they will fly to Mexico City, where there will be a chartered plane, waiting to take them into the interior for five weeks’ hunting. Does that sound like a reasonable thing to do for a man and his wife who are quarreling and at the point of considering divorce?

The whole inaccurate story supposedly got its beginning because of Clark’s interest in a young Metro actress. Before he left Hollywood, he told friends, “The whole idea is really so preposterous that I can’t even get sore about it. It’s like reading that you’re planning a rocket trip to Mars. The entire thing is too silly to answer.”

Carole kidded about it, too, but they probably both realize that a whispering campaign that will build and gain impetus until it’s deflated by the sharp needle of fact is a very dangerous thing, both to their careers and to their marriage.

The usual practice of about-to-bust-up screen names was symbolized by the recent Loy-Hornblow split. This bust-up was on the level, and you read in this column that it would hit the front pages three weeks before it was printed elsewhere. That same day, both Arthur Hornblow Jr. and Myrna Loy issued heated denials to the press through the Metro publicity department.

That story was as solid in fact as the Clark Gable-Carole Lombard story is empty in fact.

When they really are having trouble, they immediately deny it; they don’t grin and start off arm and arm for a hunting trip during which they will see no one else for five weeks.

Clark and Carole probably will come in for a lot of publicity before the year is out, but I’ll stake my dough on it being an announcement of Carole’s visit from the stork instead of a divorce.

January 5, 1941 – The Minneapolis Star

When Mr. and Mrs. Clark Gable were guests at the White House, they were announced as Mr. and Mrs. Clark Gable. But in moviedom, Mrs. Gable‘s name is Carole Lombard – and that’s a MUST.

January 6, 1941 – The Evening Sun

Clark Gable Bids Doctor Farewell

Clark Gable paid today what he termed a “personal visit” to Dr. George E. Bennett, Hopkins surgeon, before he and his wife, Carole Lombard, prepared to leave for Washington to board the 6:40 PM plane for the West Coast.

Gable, emphasizing that his visit to Dr. Bennett was “just for a friendly chat,” pointed out that the final physical checkup is being made early in the afternoon by Dr. Louis Hamman, 9 East Chase St.

Wife goes shopping

While he talked with the Hopkins orthopedic surgeon, Miss Lombard toured the downtown stores to make several purchases and then returned to the Belvedere to supervise the packing of their bags and trunks.

They are being accompanied back to Hollywood by Howard Strickling, movie executive. Gabe said he would be one day late for the filming of a new picture, “Soapy Smith.”

Yesterday, the Gables went to Annapolis to see the state offices, Naval Academy and Colonial homes as the guests of the Governor and Mrs. Herbert R O’Conor and Rear Admiral Wilson Brown, superintendent of the Academy.

They were accompanied by Dr. B. Lucien Brun, who extracted one of Gable‘s teeth last week in an effort to clear up a shoulder ache the screen star has suffered since 1937.

The actor was most interested in the governor’s report that America’s first theater was erected in Annapolis and that Shakespearean plays were performed there as early as 1752.

January 6, 1941 – The Baltimore Sun

Gables Tour Indianapolis – Everybody Gets A Thrill

Sightseers at the Naval Academy and the State House gawked at two unexpected sights yesterday when Clark Gable and his wife, Carole Lombard, sightseers themselves, toured Annapolis.

The Gables were escorted on their sight-seeing trip by Governor and Mrs. O’Connor and Rear Admiral Wilson Brown, superintendent of the United States Naval Academy, and Mrs. Brown. Early in the afternoon, the governor received a telephone call from the Johns Hopkins hospital, where Mr. Gable is receiving treatment for a shoulder ailment.

Saw Old Chamber

The screen star said he and his wife would like to pay an informal call. Governor O’Conor said that he and Mrs. O’Conor would be delighted. About 3 PM the Gables, accompanied by Dr. B. Lucien Brun, who extracted one of Mr. Gable’s teeth last week, and Howard Strickling, motion picture executive, arrived at the Government House.

After a short time in the Government House, the visitors and hosts toured the State House and the executive office. The visitors were especially interested in the Senate chamber, where General George Washington resigned his commission.

Carole and Bobby

As the party left the State House, sightseers asked the party to pose for snapshots. The Gables posed. Miss Lombard then stopped and played with Bobby, the governor’s four-year-old son who was airing his new bull pup on the lawn.

At the academy, the Gables were also asked to pose after viewing the grounds and stopping at the superintendent’s residence.

Everybody thrilled

The Gables agreed providing that the rest of the party were included in the pictures. They all posed. Said the sightseers: “It was certainly thrilling.”

Said the governor and his wife: “Thrilling.”

Said the Gables: “Stupendous, colossal, the greatest thing yet.”

January 7, 1941 – Times Herald

Radio of the Week: The best thing on the radio, by far, was President Roosevelt’s speech. It was a great speech and after it, I heard several people say “it made me feel proud to have voted for him.” Hollywood was startled to hear that Carole Lombard and Clark Gable were in the room with the President while he was broadcasting. Clark Gable was a Willkie supporter – and that’s America…

January 8, 1941 – The Gazette

Clark Gable and Carole Lombard were here yesterday as guest of John Edgar Hoover. They looked around the laboratories of the Federal Bureau of Investigation…

January 9, 1941 – The San Francisco Examiner

Clark Gable, Wife To Hunt In Mexico

Clark Gable said he would leave tomorrow with his wife, Carole Lombard, for a month’s hunting trip in Mexico. The couple returned recently from Baltimore, where Gable underwent a health checkup. He is not due to resume motion picture work until late in February.

January 10, 1941 – The North Adams Transcript

Bells to Clark Gable and Carole Lombard who, while visiting a friend in the hospital, were informed by the nurse that other patients in the floor were excited about their call – and took time out to visit every patient…

January 11, 1941 – The Mail

About Gable

Did you know that Clark Gable isn’t quite certain how to spell “sincerely,” though he has written it thousands of times autographing photographs… That he hates going to a dance, but when there can’t be got home again… That the first time he met Carole Lombard he quarrelled with her, and that now he thinks his marriage to her was the best thing that ever happened to him?… That he has been kissed by more beautiful women than any other man in the world, and that he hates having his face touched by anyone? Columnist Mark Hellinger dug out these facts about Clarkie for you.

January 15, 1941 – Evening Star

Carole Lombard is not accepting movie jobs – unless they have a far distant production date. She will rest and vegetate – with a little hunting – in the country – on the advice of Johns Hopkins physicians. This was why Clark and Carole did not go onto New York from Baltimore and Washington as they had planned before leaving Hollywood…

January 19, 1941 – The San Francisco Examiner

Carole Lombard and Clark Gable play a lot of backgammon together. This is probably Carole‘s idea. She has always had a definite plan of handling Clark as Cleopatra did Marc Anthony.

Cleo and Marc played backgammon together. Sometime ago when Carole read that Cleopatra joined Marc in all his sports, she started shooting lessons so she could go duck hunting with Clark. Mr. and Mrs. Gable seem to get along very nicely. So, lady, if things are not going so well at your house perhaps you better study up on that Cleopatra technique.

January 20, 1941 – The Pasadena Post

At lunch in the Club House, Carole Lombard with Clark Gable was dressed in an interesting ensemble featuring satin. Carole’s cinnamon brown suit with elongated jacket was piped with brown satin. Her blouse was of brown insertion, and a tremendous brown satin cartwheel balanced by an equally large brown satin bag. Occasionally, she glimpsed at a wristwatch that must be new and a surprising contrast to the feminine satin. This was a man-sized piece set in brown alligator with small gold buckle.

January 25, 1941 – The Los Angeles Times

Star–Agency Break Upheld

Carole Lombard and Selznick Each Assert Victory in Decision

Carole Lombard, film actress and wife of Clark Gable, yesterday concluded her dispute over the discharge of Myron Selznick as her agent last July 1, but both sides claimed victory in the arbitration settlement.

The Screen Actors Guild announced settlement of the disputed dismissal when an arbitration agreement was signed by two of three arbitrators.

Contracts totaling a definite $900,000 for six pictures Miss Lombard is to make at RKO Radio studio and a potential $2,000,000 earnings for her screen and radio services between July 1, 1940, and December 31, 1943, were involved in the controversy.

DISMISSED AGENT

Miss Lombard served a notice on Selznick July 1, last, that he was no longer her agent. It was this fact the arbitration board confirmed.

The three arbitrators, William Coffin, William Mathes and Odell McConnell, listened to more than 2000 pages of testimony before agreeing Miss Lombard was justified in thinking that the Selznick agency had not concerned itself sufficiently with her interests as it had agreed to do in return for 10 per cent of her earnings it collected.

Selznick maintained in his testimony that he had given all attention to Miss Lombard’s career and named a specific picture contract he obtained for her to bear out his point. William I. Gilbert, the star’s attorney, said yesterday this testimony was refuted, and it was shown Ginger Rogers got the role in question.

Barry Brannen, attorney for Selznick, said his client feels the award amounts to a victory for his cause. The $27,500 payment, Brannen explained, represents 10 percent of the earnings of Miss Lombard up to $275,000 after their contract was terminated.

MUST PAY $27,500

Under the decision, Miss Lombard must pay Selznick 10 percent of unpaid commissions up to July 1, last, which amount to $27,500 out of her future earnings, but no commissions on earnings thereafter.

The arbitration was conducted under an agreement between the agents of Hollywood and the Screen Actors Guild, which provides board decisions are final.

January 31, 1941 – Lansing State Journal

A group of orphans in Clark Gable‘s home state, Ohio, are going to receive a shipment soon of the choicest oranges, lemons, and grapefruits from the star’s ranch in the valley.

This will be the MGM actor’s reply to 29 earnest letters that were written to him by pupils in the geography class of the Soldiers’ and Sailors’ Orphans home in Xenia, O.

Gable himself was born in Hopedale.

The star’s youthful admirers didn’t ask for any gifts in their letters. They are drawing a map of California, and to make the task more interesting, their teacher, Hanna McKenzie, suggested that everyone write to Clark, asking him what kind of fruits and vegetables he and Carole Lombard grew on their ranch. They are shipping the fruit as soon as it is ripe.

#1941 #clark gable #carole lombard #old hollywood #newspaper archives

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lazuli-bloom · 4 years ago

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Roses and Styx

Chapter 1 - An Inconvenient Attachment

Beetlejuice x Reader

Word Count : 5365

Sure life wasn’t always easy, it had it’s ups and downs, but you were doing alright for yourself. Mostly. However when you find a strange sight while on your lunch break one autumn afternoon, your life gets all the more unusual.

Archive | Next Chapter

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The sun beat down on you, unobstructed by a single cloud in the vibrant blue sky. A pleasant breeze wafted by, chilling the heat of the sun’s kiss. Summer was in its death throes, but stayed determined to linger as long as possible. It gave an odd contrast to the scenery. The blazing warmth of a summer sun illuminating the turning leaves and tombstones on that early October afternoon.

You sat on a stone bench enjoying your lunch in the quiet peace of the graveyard. Most people avoided visits to the cemetery, not wanting to keep the company of the dead. You, however, frequented it. With few visitors and lovely Gothic inspired architecture, the cemetery made a relaxing place for lunch breaks. Plus, it was only a short walk from your job.

While there were benches throughout the graveyard, your favorite spot was one off in the corner and closest to the gate. That day, however, there had been a funeral held in that corner of the cemetery. So as not to impose, you picked a different bench to occupy. You tried to not let your gaze stay fixed on the graveside service, but the task proved to be easier said than done. The funeral repeatedly pulled your attention back to it by partly virtue of being an event you’ve rarely seen.

Many people, dressed in black, all focused on one grave. Most of the figures standing there were adults, but among the crowd were children clinging onto parents. The group was too far to get a proper look at any of the mourners, but there was one that stuck out. A man, slightly broad in build, wore a peculiar striped suit with wide vertical bars in black and white. You noted the clothing choice as strange, but tried not to judge. Perhaps he wasn’t able to get a solid black suit on short notice.

The strange pattern of the suit made it easy to pick him out against the other mourners. He didn’t stay still. He moved around, seeming to want to get other’s attention only to be ignored. The man’s bizarre actions, coupled with the indifference of the crowd, were major reasons you kept glancing back to the funeral.

You shake your head and check your phone, almost two o’clock. Time to head back to work. You grab your trash and get up with a stretch. With one last glance back to the funeral, you find the striped suit man looking back your way. You pay him no mind and check your phone once more before heading to leave.

To wring the most time and relaxation out of your lunch, you amble back to the hardware store. You turn to the next street where brick shops sat side by side. On the corner was a shop with a rounded, sun-faded green awning stretched over most of the front facade. Your eye glanced over the printed “Rose Creek Hardware” in yellow letters for what must have been the millionth time.

The bell above the door chimed as you stepped inside. To your left an older mustached man stood behind the front counter. He wore a light blue button down under a green apron, both tight around his rounder stomach. He gave you a warm smile that you returned.

“Back from lunch already, Cass?”

“Yeah. It’s really nice out today, I can hardly believe it’s October already.”

“Hopefully, when I get the Halloween decorations up, it’ll give things a more autumn feel.”

“Can’t wait to see it, Mr. Turner! Oh, and is Sam still here? Or have they left already?”

“They’re still around. Sam was helping the new hire.”

You nod and make your way behind the counter to retrieve your apron. After you get the strings tied, you do a sweep of the store. You found Sam in the back corner pulling merchandise forward. They didn’t notice you straight away, so you softened your footsteps for your approach. You stayed at their back until they turned enough one way that you could slip around to their side and not get caught in Sam’s peripheral. Once close enough to the shelving yourself, you slap your hands down on a bare spot- “-Missed a spot!”

Sam seized up, grabbing the shelf for support. “Geez, dude! You trying to kill me?” A wide grin breaks across your face. You chuckle to yourself as Sam regained some composure. They took a breath, shot you a glare, and got back to work.

“Heard you were training the new guy.”

“Yeah, he left already.”

“What’s he like?”

“Eh. Kinda boring? White bread personified, if you ask me. Dude came in with a dress shirt and tie.”

You shrug and start helping pull forward items. While turning products to have labels front-facing you continue on with your conversation. “Sounds like all I’ll have left to talk to will be Mr. Turner.”

There was a pause in that moment, and a sting of sorrow poked at your heart. You do your best to smother the feeling and focus on your work. It’s better to cherish the moment. You force yourself to smile and keep your chat going.

“So, there was a funeral today-”

Sam groaned and rolled their eyes at you. “You went to that creepy graveyard again? How are you not haunted?”

“Hey! I told you, it’s close by and usually quiet. I enjoy taking my lunches there. Anyway, there was a funeral and one guy there was in a weird suit with black and white stripes. Kinda like the Hamburglar.”

“I swear. You’re a magnet for the weirdest shit. It’s all those shitty movies you watch that seep into your head. How the hell do you not get nightmares?”

You stay silent and look over the product in your hand as your mind wandered back to your most recent nightmare. Piercing blue dots masked in shadow, watching every move you made. You shake your head to dismiss the thought.

You huff out a small laugh. “Guess that stuff just doesn’t get to me.”

“Whatever. Just don’t let any of your weirdness rub off on my cat.”

You press your lips into a tight line and tap your finger against the pliers in hand. “You sure there isn’t anywhere else he can go?”

“Cassie, I already told you I checked.”

“I’m just worried. I don’t think this is a good idea. My apartment doesn’t allow pets.”

“It’s just for two weeks. I’ll pick him up on the sixteenth. Hell, that’s not even a full two weeks, just thirteen days. You’ll be fine.” Sam finished with their side of the aisle and took a step back. “When do you want me to drop him off?”

You breathe out through your nose and make a noise somewhere between a hum and a groan. “Seven should be alright. Donna’s always heads out to the bars on Saturdays, so it should be clear by then.”

“You need to lighten up and not worry so much. Maybe a cute roommate is exactly what you need.”

You don’t give a reply and go back to work. The two of you split off and start tackling other sections of the store. Time marched on, and all too soon, Sam’s last shift ended. Mr. Turner bid them a farewell with a handshake and handed Sam their last paycheck. You give them a small wave and focus back on your task. You knew full well you were going to see them later that night, so you didn’t see the point of having a drawn out goodbye right then.

Once Sam left, the rest of the day dragged on slower than a sloth on crutches. When there weren’t any customers needing help, you talked with Mr. Turner. It gave you something to do, sure, but time still crawled.

That day was one of the worst kinds you can have in retail. The kind that’s just slow enough you bored out of your mind, and peppered with enough customers that you couldn’t slack off and dick around on the store’s desktop. It’s like they coordinated to space themselves out to be the most annoying.

As grueling as it took to get there, five-thirty eventually rolled around. You and the boss took the last half hour to close the store. Sweep, wipe down the counters, count the till, all that good stuff. You were in the middle of dusting when Mr. Turner handed you an envelope. You thanked him and opened it to count the bills inside. Five whole Benjamins. With another thanks, you move the bills into your wallet and get back to dusting.

Once all finished, you headed out, followed by your boss. He locked the front door and walked with you around the side to the small parking lot. He hopped into his old pickup while you climbed into your little junker. The bucket of rust masquerading as a car was on its way out, but you planned on getting every mile out of it you could. Mr. Turner had driven off by the time you coaxed your car into starting. The car sputtered and hissed, but you got the clunker going.

The drive to your apartment complex was as mundane and silent as ever. Your only option for music was to sing it yourself, since the previous owner had beaten the hell out of the radio. CDs weren’t an option either as the owner before the last had stuffed the disc slot full of cookies. For what reason remained a mystery.

You drum your fingers on the steering wheel as you drove, watching familiar sites go by as you neared your apartment. Nicer well-kept buildings and streets slowly turned to the more rundown variety. The street grew more broken and in increasingly desperate need of repairs as you went.

Building after building, you passed by until finally it was time to turn off. You pull up to your complex’s parking lot, just as run down as the roads leading to it. Two buildings sat facing each other, both in contest for which one can be the most rundown. Your building nudged ahead of its twin with the recent addition of graffiti marring the exterior.

You park in your designated spot, managing to not bump up against the two cars encroaching on your space. You worm your way out without adding anymore dents to the black sedan, and head to the complex’s front door. Standing near the door with a cigarette between clawed yellowed fingers was a scrawny older woman with a perpetual sneer on her wrinkled face. Cold steel eyes narrowed at you as you dared to approach the harpy.

“Hi Donna. How are you?”

“Parker! Where’s the rest of your rent?”

You force a smile to mask the spike of irritation. This harpy is going to be the death of you. You clear your throat to help prevent your ire from bleeding out into your tone.

“Right here, Donna. I get my pay on Saturdays.”

“Not my problem. Rent is due in full on the first. Today is the third.”

“I tried paying you last Saturday, but you-”

“The first, you stupid child. Not Before. Not after.”

“Yes Donna, I know. I’m sorry, I needed to replace a flat tire an-.”

“I don’t want to hear your excuses. Just pay the rest of your rent and get out of my sight. You worthless leech, can’t even follow basic instructions.”

You press your lips into a tighter line to keep yourself from screaming at the horrid bat. It was best to bite your tongue and get the interaction over and done with as quick as you could. You pull out your wallet and hand over four bills. It was nice while it lasted.

Donna snatched the money from you and promptly counted it. Once satisfied, she took a long drag off her cigarette. She ordered you to leave while smoke seeped out of her mouth like a dragon.

You didn’t need to be told twice. You hurried off to your apartment, climbing the stairs to the second floor and making a beeline for your door at the end of the hall.

You shut the door, leaning against it and breathed out a deep breath. After calming yourself some, you set your keys on the counter by the door and step further into your little abode.

You make your way back to the small living room and crash on the dingy brown love-seat, tossing your phone onto the stained coffee table. You lean back and stare at the ceiling. A boring white painted over heavy popcorn texture, collecting all kinds of dust. You close your eyes and let your mind wander, wanting to squeeze some relaxation time out of the rest of the day. Too bad your phone rang.

Sam called to tell you they were on their way with the cat. You told them to be careful and not let Donna see them on the off chance that she hadn’t left for the bar yet. Sam, however, brushed aside your concerns and told you not to be so worried. You pinched the bridge of your nose and groaned at that. Sam wasn’t the one that had to deal with Donna and hopefully never will.

It wasn’t until a long while later that there was a knock at your front door. A quick check through the peephole showed you Sam was on the other side with a backpack and pet carrier. You open the door and hurry them inside. Sam stepped in, stopping in the space between the kitchen and living area, and looked over the place.

“Wow. This place is shitty.”

“Thanks, hadn’t noticed.”

Sam set the carrier down on your couch, and the cat inside growled in a low tone. Sam took off their backpack next and handed that one over to you.

“Here’s all of Rigel’s things; food, bowls, litter box, toys. I’ll be back in town to get the last of my stuff on the sixteenth, and I’ll pay you then.”

“I thought we agreed half now and half when you got back?”

“It’ll be easier to just pay you all at once.”

You drum your fingers on your thigh and let out a sigh. “Alright, fine. It will be nice to get two hundred dollars all at once.”

“See! You fuss over the smallest things.”

You change the topic by offering Sam something to drink but they declined. Sam still needed to pack up a few more boxes before the end of the night. You nod and give a small wave goodbye, only for Sam to pull you into a hug. Your muscles tense up, but you did your best to return Sam’s sudden hug.

There was a unique funk around Sam that made the hug even more challenging to bear. An overly strong lavender tried and failed to cover some mix of sweat and burnt coffee. Sam left shortly after, telling you to just call them should you need anything. You nodded and waved them off.

Once they left, you turn to Rigel stuck in his carrier. His hissing got louder the closer you got to the carrier, and was full on slashing at the front when you reached down to open it.

You recoil and let him be for the moment, choosing to set up his things in the bathroom instead. While your bathroom was on the smaller side, it seemed big enough for one cat to stay in. You pack up all the various toiletries that a bored cat might knock down and set out Rigel’s things. Litter box in the corner across from the shower stall, while his food and water were against the opposite wall between the door and the sink.

With that set up you go get the carrier. You did your best not to jostle it too much, but Rigel wasn’t pleased and let you know. He let out some of the most chilling demonic screeches as he knocked against the fabric carrier, desperate to break loose and slaughter you. You set the carrier down in the closet, closing one of the bi-fold doors so he had a dark corner to hide in. You braced yourself with a few steadying breaths before swiftly unzipping the front. Once open, you pull your hand back and leave the bathroom completely, making sure the door shut behind you.

You did your best to salvage the rest of your night, enjoying your cup of noodles while watching a movie. It was a B-Movie slasher about a supernatural being going on a killing spree in Las Vegas. And this somehow led to the being going to space in the next film. Overall, it was pretty cheesy, but got a few laughs from you.

Soon you had to wrap things up and head to bed. You sneak into the bathroom to swipe your toothbrush and clean them at the kitchen sink that night, and probably for the next two weeks. With a yawn and a stretch you change into sleepwear and crawl into your bed.

Sleep didn’t come to you easily, but it wasn’t a night full of endless tossing and turning, either. The rest you got didn’t feel like enough, as the buzzing of your alarm woke you too early for your liking.

You sat up rubbing your eyes and checked your phone for the time. The small screen on the back of the thin flip phone showed the time was seven o’ two. You heave out a sigh and pull the warm covers off.

While your body went through the motions of your morning routine, your mind wandered back to the images you saw in your dream. An island floated in the middle of a dark ocean with storm clouds rumbling high above. The cold wet sand pricked against your bare feet like needles, yet you kept on walking. You had found yourself on a rickety dock at least fifteen feet above the violent waves below. There was nothing around you, but you knew you weren’t alone. Down below, lurking beneath the water, two hungry orbs of blue glared up at you, waiting. Expecting. When you didn’t move from your perch, the beast thrashed at the pillars of the dock. You lost your footing and tumbled down to the abyss.

You shook your head, forcing your thoughts to jump back to the present. Chills ran down your spine as the nightmare crawled around in the back of your mind, clawing its way forward. You stuffed it as far back as possible and carried on with your morning.

You soon were out the door and on your way to work. You grip the toilet paper wrapped over your forearm, letting the lines of blood soak into it so it can better rest on your arm. Rigel had given you a few nasty scratches when you got him fresh water, the ungrateful bastard. At least there’s a first aid kit at work.

The bell above the door chimed as you looked at the time on your phone. The damn cat almost made you late for work. You make your way to the back room to grab your apron, only to bump into a man turning the corner. It took a second to get your bearings and notice you ran right into Mr. Turner.

“Oh shit. Sorry, sir.”

He laughed and waved you off. “Morning Cass, see you’re in a hurry.”

“Ah- no, well, kinda. I hit every red light getting here and-”

“You’re fine, don’t worry. No need to rush. Just get your apron and I’ll introduce you to the new guy.”

You nod and scurry back to grab the green apron. It hung by itself on the hooks, speckled in paint and smudges. By that point the thing was overdue to get tossed and replaced, but the same thing would end up happening to the next apron.

You throw it on and tie it behind yourself before going out to the sales floor. Mr. Turner stood next to a man younger than himself but older than you. The boss was the first to notice you and gave another wave. “There they are.”

The new guy turned and flashed you a wide smile, showing off straight white teeth in a hollow smile. Tamping down the disquiet, you force yourself to offer a smile in return. The man strode up to you and held out a hand. “Great to meet you, I’m Brandon! Mr. Turner was just telling me how great of a worker you are-” He squinted at your apron before going back to that fake smile- “Art. Interesting name.”

“Thanks,” you said, and hesitated a moment before taking his hand for a brief shake. On contact that strange buzz of discomfort shot from your palm through the rest of your arm. Once your hand was free, you fight the urge to rub off the non-existent traces of him. There wasn’t anything there, nothing real, and you knew that, but more than anything you wanted that feeling gone and the only way for it to leave was to brush it off. Why did people have to insist on handshakes, just needless physical contact with strangers? It’s stupid, and you hated it.

For the first half of your shift the boss had you go over the day-to-day tasks with Brandon. There were few customers in the store that Sunday morning, so you mostly had the guy pull forward merchandise and clean some shelves. Brandon did the tasks, but they all came with questions. Most of the questions were mundane things about the products stocked, store hours, and what times saw the most customers. The problem came when Brandon veered his questions towards you personally.

“So, is Art short for anything?”

“Artemis.”

Your answer was short and pointed. You already didn’t like that he was the type to read name tags over asking for someone’s name.

“Interesting. So you from around here?”

A shiver shot through you, and you’re quick to stop that line of questions. You ignore the question entirely, instead cutting in to tell him to finish front-facing the aisle while you go check on Mr. Turner.

The day dragged on until finally getting to your lunch break. Brandon, thankfully, caught on that you weren’t one to disclose much about yourself to a new face. However, that didn’t make the morning smooth sailing. You grab your lunch and speed off to the cemetery, eager to get a break from Brandon.

Your usual bench was free, and you took your place to enjoy lunch. Munching on your meal, you take in the sights, finding a serenity in the quiet. The sun shined brightly, causing some of the glossier headstones to reflect the rays. You hum to yourself and scan over the graveyard. To your surprise, you spotted someone in the far corner opposite you. Your brows furrowed, perplexed by the other. You watched the figure, curious of what they’re doing.

They wandered from gravestone to gravestone, kicking at the earth with hands stuffed into pockets. The build of the figure suggested a man, and one dressed in monochrome. You squint your eyes at them making sure you weren’t mistaken; but no, that was the same bizarre suit you saw a man wearing the day prior.

You keep your gaze fixed on him, wanting to figure out why he might be here a second day in a row visiting completely different graves. Did the man simply like to visit graveyards and have a limited wardrobe? If so, you didn’t want to comment on the matter out of fear of shattering the glass house.

You ate lunch with glances at the man. You wanted to piece together why he might be there. He wasn’t mourning; he moved from one grave to the next as if searching for something. The man in the weird suit went down one row of graves, heading away from you, only to hit the end and turn back for the next row.

You forced yourself to not look at him for fear of getting caught. But your curiosity burned, and you chanced a look up. He didn’t notice you, too engrossed in whatever he was doing. Embolden by that, you continue to munch away at your food and sneak glances at him. That is, until you swallowed wrong and went into a coughing fit.

You got your breathing under control a minute later and checked to see if he noticed. And oh boy, did he notice. The man was staring straight at you. It was awkward enough to get caught looking, but you noticed the man closing the gap between you two. He was still at the far end with well over two hundred feet between you, but you didn’t want to stick around and have that plummet to single digits.

Nope. You scoop up your belongings and speed-walk straight back to the store. You didn’t even chance a look behind you. Eyes forward and keep moving. You weren’t sure if he was actually still following; you didn’t hear any footsteps behind you. So that seemed like a good sign.

You blew past the door, bell violently chiming, and you made a beeline for the back. Your heart pounded against your ribs, wanting to break free and make a run for it. You take quick breaths, forcing the next to be longer than the last to get yourself to calm down. In the middle of collecting yourself, Mr. Turner walked into the back area with worry knitted on his brow.

“Cass, you alright? What’s wrong?”

“Is there a man in a striped suit in the store?”

He gave you a puzzled look, but left to do a sweep of the store. He came back half a minute later, shaking his head. “No, no one’s in the store dressed like that. What happened?”

“Nothing really. I just saw him in the cemetery and it looked like he was starting to follow me.”

He frowned. “Well, you just come to me if any creep is giving you a hard time. I’ll knock his teeth out for you.”

You manage a smile and nod. You take a few more breaths to calm down before you grab your apron. Things were going to be okay. The guy might not have even seen what store you went into. Heck, that guy probably didn’t even leave the cemetery. And even if he did, Mr. Turner was there to help you out of a tight spot. You smile a little brighter and step out onto the sales floor where you see the stripe suit guy looking at paint chips.

A strangled scream catches in your throat. You step back, dipping back into the employee’s only area of the store before he could see you. What the Hell were you going to do now? You couldn’t hide back there all day.

You push aside the fabric curtain dividing the sales floor from the back, and get a look at the man. With him much closer, you could see his green hair and the distressed look of his suit. He leaned forward, looking over the paint colors. Maybe he didn’t know you were back there. If so, you could wait in the back for a few minutes for him to just leave.

You close the curtain and slip your hands into your apron pockets. Your fingers brush over cool metal, and your thumb flicks up the slider on the side. It wasn’t much, but it was certainly better than nothing. Box cutter in hand, you look back out.

The stranger stayed put in front of the paint colors. You take a shallow breath, prepping yourself to go out. In the middle of psyching yourself up, you see Brandon wander over to the paint section. Hope bubbles up in you. The new guy can take care of him for you.

Brandon scanned over the section. He pushed down some color chips, looked over the desk before looking your way.

“Art! There you are.”

Brandon’s voice bellowed in the small store, not only earning a squeak from you but also causing the stranger to turn and look. You yank the curtain closed, hoping the man in the monochrome stripes didn’t get a good look at you.

Brandon parted the curtain a moment later and looked you over with knit brows and lips in a thin line. “Art, what are you doing back here? I don’t think it looks very professional for an employee to skulk around in the back all day.”

“The guy over at paint followed me from the cemetery.”

Brandon raised a brow at you. “There aren’t any customers in the store, and certainly not in paint, I would have seen them.” He pulled open the curtain with a flourish to reveal the man standing just on the other side. “See, no one’s there.”

Your eyes dart between the idiot holding back the curtain and the green-haired man tilting his head some with a grin plastered on his face. Thought processing came to a crawl as you tried making sense of what you were seeing. Your gaze lands on Brandon in the end.

“You don’t see anyone there?”

He rolled his eyes and looked back out to the sales floor. He then looked back at you with brows knitted further. “No, there’s no one there, Artemis. Perhaps you should stop taking your lunches in the cemetery if they’re just going to put scary thoughts in your head.”

Brandon frowned at you before stepping out onto the sales floor, going right through the man in the striped suit. He stopped to shiver, only to keep walking a second later. Once he left, your wide eyes landed on the man still standing there, still grinning and showing off sharp yellowed teeth.

“Hi there!”

Nope. Nope nope nope. You grab your box cutter and pull it out to point at the guy. And without a word you push aside the curtain more and go around the man. The man whined at your action and followed you.

“Come on babes! Don’t ignore me, I know you can see me!”

You keep walking, heading straight for Mr. Turner. He turns to you at your approach and the small smile fades from his face. “Cass? What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

The gravelly laugh behind you sent shivers down your spine. You did your best to shake off the feeling and forced a smile.

“I’m not feeling too good. I was hoping I could go home early today.”

His lips sink further into a frown, but he gave you a nod. “It’s fine by me. But what about that man you were talking about that followed you from the cemetery? Are you going to be okay?”

The man behind you continued to laugh. You tighten your hands into fists, the metal of the box cutter pressing hard into the flesh of your hand.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay Mr. Turner. See you tomorrow.”

He nodded, and you handed over your apron while keeping the box cutter in hand. You offer one last quick goodbye and head out the door, the bell only chiming once. You march down the sidewalk and hear the strange man continuing to talk.

“So, babes, where are we heading?”

You pause at your car door. You take a few quick breaths and finally respond to this... person. “I’m going home. I’m obviously not feeling well and seeing things that aren’t there.”

You slip into your car and promptly lock all the doors. You heave a sigh and lean against the steering wheel as your brain sorts through all this nonsense. A groan rumbles in your throat and you lean back in your seat. In your peripheral, the man in the striped suit sat in your passenger seat sporting a sharp grin. Well shit.

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice x reader #musical beetlejuice x reader #roses and styx #my writing

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welldonekhushi · 4 years ago

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To Love An Indian | Tony Stark x Desi!Reader

Summary: The reader is a desi woman who was appointed as an assistant by Tony Stark. How will your relationship with the billionaire genius go?

Warnings: All fluff, used Hindi language! Translations are available.

Word Count: 2,914

The special fact about you was, being an Indian was something common about when you live in a western country.

Mostly migrate to other places for finding a job, same as you. Never believed once in your life, you're going to get a job of an assistant. For a billionaire genius, and a superhero.

Everyone in your family was so happy about it, at least they have expectations that their daughter will finally make her name and earn. Maybe find someone special that you find to be perfect in your life?

Your mom and dad always worked hard for you for a better future and lifestyle. They never been so happier when they found out you were being appointed for a job in America. They felt so successful and proud for making their daughter educated enough to send her further.

Your flight was tomorrow, but the nervousness just kicks inside that how would your interview go. It was actually Tony Stark, the genius, billionaire, playboy and philanthropist. You can't even mess up with him. But, there was one thing which bugged you about, a tingly feeling.

You remember him since the day when the world was saved from the Chitauri invasion, and everyone was celebrating about the victory of heroes. It filled throughout the Indian media, about the new superheroes, named as the Avengers, who fight the inside and outside evils. The moment Iron Man showed on the screen, you were left surprised. You kept staring at the hero saving others and making sure if they're secure.

Mostly! When he opened his mask, and revealed his face, everyone held such shocked faces, like they never knew Iron Man was basically a human inside controlling the suit.

"Lo, hum joh isse robot samaj rahe the, yeh toh insaan nikala!" Your grandmother exclaimed. (Wow, we thought he was robot, but he turned out to be a human?)

"Chodo na, dadi. Hai toh hero, na?" You replied, turning back to the television. (Leave, grandma. At least he's a hero, right?)

But, you kept looking at his face. The way he spoke, the way he actions, and everything. You were lost into the man, that suddenly you revealed your smile, your sister noticing it.

"Didi, kya hogaya?" Your sister broke your contact, making you jerk in an instant. (What's wrong, sis?)

"O-oh, k-kuch nahi. Bas me usse dekh rahi thi, baat karte hue." You stammered, looking back. (Oh, it's nothing. I was just looking at him, talking.)

"Oho, pyaar me toh nahi pad gaye na?" Your sister teased, making you blush. (Oh, are you falling in love, huh?)

"Aree! Pagal toh nahi ho? Of course nahi! Hero hai, respect karti hu." (Hey! Are you crazy? Of course no! He's a hero, and I respect him.)

You did appreciate him, but this kind of respect leading to somewhere else.

It was morning, and the time for your flight. Bidding everyone a heartwarming farewell, hoping to see your family soon again.

"Beta araam se jaana. Maine tere liye bahut saari kheer banayi hai. Kha lena agar bhuk lagi toh, thik hai?" (Dear, go easy while you leave. I made lots of pudding for you, so eat it if you feel hungry, alright?)

"Haa maa, ghabrao nahi. Me araam se jaaungi. Ashirvad do bas." You kneeled down to take blessing from your mom and dad, them giving it back. (Yes, mom don't worry. I'll go easy, just give me your blessing.)

"Khush raho, beti. Kaam karna aur naam roshan karna." Your father removed his spectacles, crying tears for her daughter leaving. (Be happy, my daughter. Work hard and make your name bright.)

You hugged your dad, weeping because he wasn't ready to accept the fact you were now leaving him for a long time. After breaking the hug, you wiped his tears, giving him confidence.

Stepping in the taxi, you bid them goodbye, waving your hand and leaving for the airport.

Your new life now began, the moment you entered America. Landing, you then stayed in the hotel for the night, tired and exhausted. But, along that you wanted to remember your lines, so you quickly revise and go to sleep. In the morning, you hurriedly reach Stark Tower for the interview, since the time was running a bit fast.

Entering in the huge interior, looking at a lot of people working in. It did made your nervousness kick in again, but behaved like a strong woman, just wanting to complete the interview as a badass.

You reached the receptionist. "Excuse me, can you tell me where will Mr. Stark take the interview?"

"Oh, on the 15th floor, meeting rooms."

"Thank you." You smiled, reaching the elevator and waiting for the floor to arrive. Checking your watch, you were two minutes late, but hoping they'll just manage. Entering the room, feeling the slight cold air hitting your skin. It seemed empty, but hoped he was waiting for a while.

"Uhm, Mr. Stark?" You called out.

"Come in, Miss (L/N)." A deep, masculine voice filled through the room, knowing someone was actually in. Stepping inside, and closing the door, you seat yourself, trying to hide away your nervousness. It seemed you were slowly forgetting your lines but, being a strong woman is your passion right? Who even can—

The moment the chair turned around towards your direction, you lost it. It looks like you totally forgot the lines now.

Because Tony Stark just faced in front of you.

Did you just, blush? No, it might be embarassment. But, he too stared at you for a while. It was like an awkward staring contest, but remembering you were here for an interview, you brought yourself back.

"Good morning, Mr. Stark. Sorry for being so late." You wipe off the flick of hair on your face.

"It's okay. At least you were on time." He replied, giving a smile. Damn, it was cute.

"So, Miss (L/N). You're from, India right?" He asked, looking at your documents.

"Y-yes! I'm from India, also fully graduated from college."

"What really made you accept this assistant job?" He started asking questions.

"I just don't want to work for money, but I want to find what better I can do while I'm by myself."

"That's everyone's expectations. We should really try something new, and it's a fact of finding your true self."

"Right." You nodded.

"Alright, I have appointed you, congrats." He closed the document and gave a grin.

You widen your eyes. "What? I-I thought you were going to ask more questions..?"

"I don't ask many of them, I know you're capable for everything so, no need." He shrugged.

"W-wow.. I mean, it's way different back there.. haha. What a prick I am." You chuckled.

"You shouldn't actually be uncomfortable or nervous around me, okay? I'll always be available for your problems." He stood up from his chair, and you also too. Offering his hand for a handshake, and you happily accept it.

"Congratulations for the job, Miss (L/N)."

"Aapka bahut, bahut dhanyawad." You accidentally speak in your language, making you cover your mouth in surprise. (Thank you very much.)

He raised his eyebrow in confusion, not sure what you really meant. "Excuse me?" He tilts his head, smirking.

"I-I meant, thank you for accepting me as your assistant, Mr. Stark.. I'm sorry about that." You replied, trying not to fluster from embarassment. But, it didn't seem to make him feel weird, he was like.. more interested?

"No no, it's fine. Accidents happen, but your language is just beautiful. Just tell me whenever you're about to speak Hindi, JARVIS, my AI will help me translate it." He chuckled, and you laugh back.

"Mr. Stark you're so funny." You shook your head and continued to laugh. He sees you smile, which somehow warmed his heart. You might not notice it, but something was being created in between.

And time actually told that, when you both worked together for a long time.

"Please, call me Tony."

✧

Years while working with Stark, you really enjoyed the job. He was a sweet, generous person who will look after you, hoping nothing worse happens. It kind of made you both like good friends, later on. Everytime you looked at him, some strange feelings always attacked you. You can't even guess what it means, but maybe because you really appreciate him.

One day came, when you even noticed about his weaknesses. It made you worry when he never came upstairs to sleep, so after a lot of convincing, he accepted your plead and slept. Even it became more forward, when Tony faced nightmares, and wanted to sleep with someone by his side.

He had been lonely, and it hurts.

His tired face made you want to rub it gently, and relax him to sleep. But, it looks like, you weren't friends anymore.

The way he became more protective and caring throughout your job in his mansion. Like a boyfriend.

But, the question came, does he even love you back, that you're feeling it all?

In the morning, Tony woke up to see the side of the bed empty. Maybe you were up early and started working. He got up and rubbed his hair, went downstairs to get some coffee. While drinking, he suddenly heard someone.. singing?

It didn't seem like an English song. It was foreign.

He could even hear the feminine sound softly, coming from the othe room.

Main tainu samjhawan ki, na tere bina lagda ji,

Tu ki jaane pyaar mera, me karu intezaar tera,

Tu dil tuhiyo jaan meri

Main tainu samjhawan ki, na tere bina lagda ji,

When he slowly entered the room, you were the one singing while cleaning up the documents. Seriously, he never knew you sang so well. It literally made him feel so surprised, by seeing your other talent. He leaned on the door ledge, hearing you sing beautifully without noticing, like he was lost into it.

Everyday, whenever you used to sing this song while working, he secretly saw you and always adored your voice. It just made him fall in love.

On a particular day, he heard you sing the same song again. He stepped in the room, seeing your beautiful face and voice again.

In midway of your song, you turn around and see him on the doorway, and you gasped. "O-oh, Mr. Stark! G-good morning!"

"Good morning." He replied in his groggy, morning voice. "I never knew you sang so well. You never told me you even sing." He chuckled.

"Really..? I uhm, used to sing but, I had different plans.." You rub your hair, looking embarassed.

"But you sing so well.. I'm amazed." He smiled. "Problem is, I didn't understand because, that's a different language. God, I need to take Hindi classes from you, dang. What does it mean?"

You both laughed. "This song.. uhm actually is about, a lover, explaining his.. other lover that, he can't live without her, because they're deeply attached to each other. It's my favorite song, by the way."

"Oh really? You're into romantic songs, it seems." He raised his eyebrow and smirked, finding a seat.

"Yeah but, uhm.. because they show a lot meaning, even after I'm just a single-pringle, haha. Weird isn't it?"

He stared at you for sometime, it wasn't serious, but gentle. "It's not."

You blushed, don't know why but the tone of his voice dragged into it. Both kept staring at each, and had no idea about the surroundings.

You were the one to break through, coming back to reality. "Oh! S-sorry I just got lost.. a while back."

He got up from his chair, and went closer to your direction. Looking at each other's eyes, he found yours the most beautiful. Felt like he can swim in it. Caressing your cheek and rubbing it with his thumb, you started to panic inside, not able to notice what's happening now.

"Y/N.." He said, in a soft voice. "I.. wanted to ask about something."

You gulped, still flustered. "W-what is it?"

He realised something else, and then cleared his throat. ".. can you, teach me Hindi?"

"Huh?" You looked surprised.

"Yeah, I told a very while back, that I will once ask you to teach me Hindi. I'm very interested, can you please?" He flashed a grin. Like, there was no problem for you to teach him your language. It's good to make others know about your culture.

You gave him a nod as a reply, and he became excited. "Thank you, I'll gladly be your student, Miss Y/N."

✧

For weeks, Tony had been taking Hindi classes from you. I swear, it could have been tough for him, but he was just so interested to learn the language. All you know he was just keen so you were teaching him all that. Giving him assignments and worksheets with grammar, you helped him through everything.

"Maine khana khaya.." You said the words, and waited for him to recite back. (I ate my food.)

"Maine khana.. khaya? Did I say it right?" He replied, in a weird way because his American accent was also mixing in between.

"No no, you're going correctly! Now say it again."

"Maine khana khaya." Tony said it properly.

"Good! I'm proud of you. Damn, Tony. You're going good in this language."

"For you, I can do anything, even learning a tough language."

The moment which left you blank again. He still fixed his soft eyes with yours, clearing your throat to break the tension.

"Okay so, do you have any doubts so far?

"Well, uh. I have a doubt, many of them." He rubbed his nose.

"Ask me."

He first rubs his hands nervously, then looks back at you. "How do you say.. love in Hindi?"

"Oh, well.. pyaar." You replied, being straightforward.

"Okay.. now how do we say, you're beautiful in it?"

You felt a tingly feel in your stomach, but still continued. "Tum khoobsurat ho."

He chuckles. "Alright. Now, if I ask my final doubt.. how do I say.. I love you?"

You gasped. Did he really mean it? Clenching your pen, you became nervous.

"Tell me, my love. I want to know about it."

".. me tumse pyaar karta hu."

"Yes, that is what I wanted to hear." He skids closer to you, growing close to your face.

"Mujhe tumse pyaar hai." He said, properly in Hindi. You felt like to explode. Tony Stark.. loves you?

Suddenly, he gets up from the couch, offering his hand. You grab it and get up, till a familiar song plays in the room.

Tony grabbed your waist from one arm and your hand from the other, swifting to the movements as if they're dancing.

He started singing the song, when the verse began.

- play it now! -

youtube

"Main tainu samjhawan ki, na tere bina lagda ji.." He sang the line so perfectly. You were just shocked and surprised. Both were dancing like a couple on stage.

Main tainu samjhawan ki, na tere bina lagda ji..

Tu ki jaane pyaar mera, me karu intezaar tera,

Tu dil tuhiyo jaan meri

Main tainu samjhawan ki, na tere bina lagda ji..

While he was singing your favorite song, you were about to burst in tears. You never believed it. The billionaire genius, actually loved you this whole time. Happily resting your head on his chest, he continued to dance while holding you close. When the song finished, he still saw the tears in your eyes.

"D-did you wanted to learn Hindi.. b-because of all this?" Your voice cracked.

"Yes, my love. Just for you. I have to tell this but.. I fell in love the moment I saw you for the first time. Your smile, laugh, voice, behavior, eyes.. and your.."

"And your.. what?"

He sighed, and then leaned to close the gap between your lips. The kiss was sweet yet passionate, like he waited for this moment.

He pulled off for air, both of your gazes neutrally looking. "I'm surprised that I fell in love with an Indian, like you. But, you're pretty, no matter what nationality you belong to. You changed my life Y/N. Trust me, the way you took care of, pampered, and worried for me.. I can never forget that. I really love you for that, my love. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you.. d-do you accept me as your boyfriend?"

You started to sob, clenching his shirt tight. Maybe she wasn't happy about it. "L-look, if you don't accept, it's okay.. you deserve. Alot better than—"

"Yes, yes and a million times yes!" You said excitedly, and he sighs in relief. "Did you like.. learn the entire song?"

"Yeah, I even did take help from JARVIS for the translation, also from your teachings, never forgetting that." He winked.

"Oh god.." You laughed.

"But come on, you didn't like it? Tell me!"

"I did, Tony. And I want to thank you for it, a lot."

He gently wipes off your tears, and kisses your forehead. "Now, do you want to celebrate for our engagement?"

"Like where, Mr. Stark?" You said, flirtatiously.

He darkens his eyes, and picks you in the bridal style. "Right in our shared bedroom, sweetheart." He takes you in the room while giggling, shutting the door from inside.

#tony stark x reader #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x you #tony stark x desi!reader #desi reader #tony stark fanfiction #marvel #marvel india #marvel x reader #avengers x reader

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ultimate-007 · 5 years ago

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How infinitely sad to hear the news Sir Sean Connery has passed away. He and Roger were friends for many decades and Roger always maintained Sean was the best ever James Bond. - the Estate of Sir Roger Moore

Only a few weeks ago I was wishing Sean all the best for his 90th birthday. Now, I'm very sad to be condoling with his family and friends. Of course, Sean Connery as James Bond inspired me personally but seems to have encapsulated an age, the Sixties. I met Sean a couple of times and I was pleased he'd given my Bond film, On Her Majesty's Secret Service, his seal of approval. But, to me, the most important thing was his work went far beyond Bond: into charity, into family, into politics and into golf. A man after my own heart. A great actor, a great man and underappreciated artist has left us. My thoughts are with Lady Micheline and Sean's children and grandchildren. - George Lazenby

I'm incredibly saddened to hear of Sean's passing. My thoughts are with his family. He was a wonderful person, a true gentleman and we will be forever connected by Bond.When we were younger I used to cheer Sean on from the sidelines whilst he played football in his team, The Showbiz 11! Well, I will always be there to cheer you on Sean! Forever in our hearts and may you rest in peace. Shirley x. - Shirley Bassey

Sir Sean Connery, through his talent and drive, left an indelible mark in cinematic history. His audiences spanned generations, each with favorite roles he played. He will always hold a special place in my heart as Indy’s dad. With an air of intelligent authority and sly sense of comedic mischief, only someone like Sean Connery could render Indiana Jones immediately into boyish regret or relief through a stern fatherly chiding or rejoiceful hug. I’m thankful for having had the good fortune to have known and worked with him. My thoughts are with his family. - George Lucas

We are extremely saddened to hear of the passing of the legendary Sir Sean Connery. Memories of this outstanding actor and his unforgettable embodiment of superspy James Bond will forever be cherished at Pinewood. - Pinewood Studios

Sean Connery was a movie legend, even far into his golden years. Our strongest Bonds were formed by him, and he was Untouchable. He passed today at age 90, a suave hero to the end. - George Takei

I'm very sorry to hear about Sean's passing. He seemed much younger than 90; I expected – and hoped-- he’d be with us much longer. See you up there, Sean. - Robert DeNiro

I admired Sean so much. I was happiest when I was working with him - his wisdom, humbleness, and extreme honesty has guided me ever since I met him. He was my friend and greatest teacher in cinema. The first movie star to lead the way in combining drama, action adventure, and comedy. He did it all effortlessly and with dignity. Maestro, you will be missed. - Nicolas Cage

I grew up idolizing Sean Connery. A legend on screen, and off. Rest In Peace. - Hugh Jackman

I was heartbroken to learn this morning of the passing of Sir Sean Connery. Our nation today mourns one of her best loved sons. Sean was born into a working class Edinburgh family and through talent & sheer hard work, became an international film icon and one of the world's most accomplished actors. Sean will be remembered best as James Bond - the classic 007 - but his roles were many & varied. He was a global legend but, first and foremost, a patriotic and proud Scot - his towering presence at the opening of the Scottish parliament in 1999 showed his love for the country of his birth. Sean was a lifelong advocate of an independent Scotland and those of us who share that belief owe him a great debt of gratitude. It was a privilege to have known Sean. When I last spoke to him it was clear even then that his health was failing - but the voice, the spirit and the passion that we all loved so well were still there. I will miss him. Scotland will miss him. The world will miss him. My thoughts and condolences are with Micheline, their children and all the family. RIP Sir Sean Connery. - Nicola Sturgeon

Sean was a rare combination of being a great star and a brilliant actor. He proved this first in James Bond. The second time he proved this was when we both were in The Man Who Would Be King. We had a great time together. I haven’t seen him for quite a long time and I’ve missed him, but today, I really miss him. I am grateful for the time we spent together. A wonderful man. - Michael Caine

Farewell my friend. I love you Sean Connery with all my heart. Until we meet again, I will cherish every moment I shared with you. My love to Micheline and the family. - Catherine Zeta Jones

Saddened by the news of the passing of Sir Sean Connery. A wonderful man who I had the pleasure of working with in Time Bandits. We crossed paths many times over the years. Such immense talent and a vibrant human. And the only one of us to find The Holy Grail. - John Cleese

Every day on set with Sean Connery was an object lesson in how to act on screen. But all that charisma and power- that was utterly unique to Sean . RIP that great man , that great actor . - Sam Neill

I feel so fortunate to have worked with Sean. I am just so grateful to have had the honour of knowing him as a dear friend. He was a fabulous man and so very talented. He had a great sense of humor and he made our job fun. An elegant man, a brilliant actor and an over all amazing individual... Not to mention extremely attractive. - Tippi Hedren

Sean Connery was a legend, one of the greatest actors of all time. He provided endless entertainment for all of us & inspiration for me. I’m not just saying that because he was a bodybuilder who placed in the Mr. Universe contest! He was an icon. My thoughts are with his family. - Arnold Schwarzenegger

SEAN CONNERY

1930 - 2020

R.I.P.

#sean connery #007 #james bond

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sherrybaby14 · 6 years ago

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Crowned Christmas Wedding

Summary: You take a Christmas vacation and meet a charming stranger who may be more than he appears.

Pairing: Bucky x You

Words: 5K

Warnings: Christmas overload, fluff, blink-and-miss-it smut.

A/N: Look, I love Hallmark Christmas movies as much as the next person, this story is kind of them all mashed into one. I may be poking fun a bit, but it is all out of love.

Day one of your Christmas vacation in Romkovia, a tiny European country nestled into the mountainside. You woke up refreshed in the tiny inn and were ready to soak in the Christmas experience.

With a scarf around your neck, earmuffs, and mittens, you couldn’t contain your grin as you walked down the street. The town was bustling with shoppers, celebrators, and general festive fun.

“Ho, ho, ho,” a man dressed as Santa rang a bell. “Why good morning miss.”

“Good morning Santa!” You laughed, his gleefulness infecting your soul. “You know, I think I have something for you.”

You reached into your purse and sifted around, grabbing some money to donate of course, but that wasn’t what you were searching for.

“Here.” You held out a candy cane as you dropped the money into his coffer. “Merry Christmas.”

“For me?” His brown eyes started to water. “A present for Santa. That is a rarity.”

“Well you’re the one spreading the most cheer.” Feeling bold you leaned forward and placed a kiss on his cheek. “You deserve all the love.”

“And what is your Christmas wish this year?” Santa tilted his head.

Your heart spoke its true desire in your mind, but you didn’t speak the words out loud.

“For my friends and family to be happy and healthy.” You smiled and shrugged.

You swore you hear the sound of bells or petals floating around you, your smile dropped as you looked around.

“Santa heard your wish dear.” He winked. “Consider it granted. Ho Ho Ho!”

Santa returned to ringing his bell and the smile returned to your face as you kept walking.

“Strange guy.” You took a sip from your coffee cup as you took in your surroundings.

The snow peaks were the perfect backdrop to the swiss feel of the town. The cobbled street was barely wide enough for cars and it seemed most people preferred walking here anyway.

A store front up ahead caught your eye. You turned to look at the beautiful display of scarves. A sign above them said “hand-knit”. You were fortunate that this country’s main language was English.

You we're about to step inside, when WHAM, something crashed into your shoulder. Your foot got a piece of ice.

“Ahh!” Your coffee went flying in the air as you fell back, bracing yourself for impact.

A pain radiated up your tailbone when you crashed into the sidewalk, your coffee cup hitting the ground with a thunk next to you.

“I’m sorry miss, are you alright.” A hand was extended out to you, but the sun was blocking your view of the man. “I get lost is my thoughts sometimes. I didn’t mean to bump into you.”

Your hand found him and you let him guide you to your feet. Once his image became clearer any piece-of-mind you had planned vanished. He had shoulder-length dark hair and a bit of a beard with clear blue eyes.

“Accidents happen.” You found your footing and felt a bit nervous. He was so pretty.

“I spilled your coffee too.” He reached down and picked up the empty cup. “There’s a shop over there. Let me purchase you a new one.”

“That’s not necessary.” You smoothed out your coat.

“Please. I insist.” His hand found your back and he began guiding you across the street.

“Well, thank you.” You decided the scarves could wait. “I’m Y/N.”

“That’s a beautiful name.” He swallowed. “You can call me Bucky.”

“Interesting name.” You laughed.

“It’s a nickname.” He held open the door to the small shop. “But I like it much better than my real one.”

The little shop was perfect. Christmas decorations hung all around as the barista’s made lattes for people laughing in ski sweaters. If your spirits weren’t lifted by the sight, the scent really nailed it home.

“Mmmm.” You breathed in the hints of mint, coffee, and chocolate. “I think I had enough coffee this morning. But I will take a hot chocolate.”

“Two hot cocoas to go please.” Bucky stepped up to the counter. “In reusable mugs. One with the Santas and one with the gingerbread men.”

He paid and then held an arm out for you to go to one of the tall tables against the deep wooden wall. You peeled off your coat and winter gear, not wanting to sweat as you had a seat. Adjusting your sweater over your leggings.

“A visitor in Romkovia? This close to Christmas?” Bucky sat opposite. “What brings you to our tiny country?”

“I wanted a European Christmas.” You signaled to the wonder around you. “Google led me to Romkovia. I figured why not?”

“Are you traveling with family?”

“Just me.” You shrugged.

“Well, is Christmas without family a Christmas at all?” He looked concerned. “I’m sorry. Your circumstances must be private.”

“Here’s a picture of my family.” You held out your phone, eager to show off the three children.

“They’re stunning.” He smiled. “I’d guess five, eight, and twelve?”

“You’re good with your ages.” You were impressed. “They’re spending Christmas with their father’s parents.”

“Your children are gorgeous. I’m sure they will miss you.” He handed the phone back.

“They’re my nieces and nephew.” You set the phone down. “My sister and her husband died in a car accident a few years back. I’ve been their guardian ever since.”

“My condolences.” Bucky’s brow furrowed. “That is noble of you.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You shrugged. “My parents died when I was still in high school, so I know how important it is to have adults in your life.”

“They’re lucky to have you.” Bucky nodded. “I imagine caring for them is a full-time job.”

“I’m a grade school teacher.” You perked up, thinking about your students. “I love touching kids’ lives. Second graders this year. They are a handful. The school board tried to cut our funding for the Christmas pageant, but a group of us teachers got together, raised funds, donate our own money. It was the most fantastic pageant ever.”

You offered your phone for photos. Bucky’s eyes went wide as he scanned through the performance, a feeling of pride welled in your chest.

“And what is this?” He turned your phone toward you.

“That’s my home!” You looked at the 4000 square foot, two stories, with a finished basement, six-bedroom, four-bathroom house. “My street puts on a light decorating contest each year. We have like a candy cane lane thing going on.”

“And you’re missing that?” Bucky tilted his head. “For Romkovia?”

“My house is all decorated an on a timer.” You swiped through a few more photos. “That’s Mr. Crandle’s house. He’s the only one who refuses to participate. One year I’ll get him to smile. It’s always my New Year’s resolution.”

“Two hot chocolates!” A barista came and set down your drinks.

You began to put your coat back on as you stood up from your chair.

“Your traditions sound quite fun.” Bucky did the same. “A bit different from ours, but not too far off.”

“What had you so lost in your thoughts this morning you ran into me?” You buttoned up your coat and put on your earmuffs.

“If I tried to explain it, you would miss your entire day of exploring Romkovia.” Bucky put on his gloves. “And that would be a great disservice to you.”

“Mmmm.” You took a sip of the drink. “This is almost too decadent. I love it.”

“Is there such a thing as too decadent?” Bucky held open the door.

“I love the weather here.” You walked outside. “It’s late December, in the mountains, there’s snow on the ground, but my coat and winter gear keep from getting cold. It’s almost magical.”

“Hey mister! Miss!” A boy about twelve stopped in front of you. “The snowman building contest is about to start. We need more teams! Come on!”

Before you could respond the boy kept running. You looked at Bucky who shrugged.

“I said COME ON!” The young boys waved again.

“We better follow.” Bucky grabbed your hand.

You laughed, but didn’t object as you jogged over to the end of the street of shops. Sure enough in the town square, there was a group surrounding a few teams of two.

“Come come.” A man in a top hat signaled you over. “I believe we have enough teams now. Let the contest begin.”

“Snowman building?” You looked at the four other teams of adults. “Shouldn’t the kids participate?”

“Are you kidding?” Bucky raised an eyebrow as he picked up some snow. “Kids don’t love watching adults build snowmen where you’re from?”

“Not really.” You bent down and began gathering a ball.

There was a crowd of children cheering you on.

“They get to judge the winner.” Bucky dropped to his knees and began packing. “And I like to win.”

He stuck his tongue out at you and you tossed some snow his way.

“That’s not very teamlike!” He stuck his tongue out and licked some of the white away. “Enough fooling about. You get started on the head.”

You supposed there were worse ways to spend a morning than playing in the snow.

~~~

“And the Winner is!” The man with the top hat smiled. “Bucky and Y/N!”

All the children began to cheer as they ran over and gave you hugs. Pride ran through you as you looked at your giant snowman. He really was the best. The other competitors came and gave you congratulations.

“Your reward.” He handed over a gift card to a chocolate shop.

“I think I know how this can be put to good use.” You handed the card right over to the boy who called you over.

His face went wide.

“Now share.” You jokingly pointed a finger.

“Come on everyone!” He waved his arm to the other kids. “A treat for everyone.”

The swarm of kids ran off with the young boy. You and Bucky laughed and waved farewell to the group of children.

“That was fun.” You brushed snow off your mittens. “You’re a good partner.”

“I could use a warm-up.” Bucky walked toward the street.

There was a cart selling fresh nuts. The scent was intoxicating.

“Nothing like roasted chestnuts at Christmas time.” He paid the vendor with some coins and handed you a bag.

“I’ve never had actual chestnuts before.” You pulled one out of the bag. “Mmm. Delicious.”

“Carriage ride?” A man with a horse and sleigh seemed to appear out of nowhere, stopping right in front of you.

Bucky looked at you with a tilted chin, then held his hand up, signaling for you to climb aboard.

“I suppose so.” You jumped up.

The dark-haired man climbed in after. He noticed some fur blankets and spread them over your lap.

The horse let out a neigh and you were off.

“I’ve never been on one of these before.” You were shocked as you left the town and went into the woods.

“Nothing to worry about.” Bucky placed an arm around you. “After all that snow building you need a break. Relax.”

The sleigh whisked through the woods and you could not keep your head still as you took in the beauty of Romkovia. It was a magical place.

The conversation between you and Bucky was more than natural. It flowed like a steady beat of a carol. When the sleigh slowed down and left the woods you were a bit sad. But then your ears perked up.

“Have a holly jolly Christmas, it’s the best time of the year.” A group of carolers was at the town square.

“I love Christmas music!” You stood before the sleigh came to a stop.

“Well no time to waste then.” Bucky paid the driver. “Let’s go have a listen.”

You almost skipped over to the square, Bucky right behind you.

The singers were phenomenal. They wore old fashioned garb but sang classic hits. Santa Clause is coming to town came from them next and you felt the joy in your heart rise.

When the show came to an end you clapped and Bucky yelled in appreciation.

“This has been the most phenomenal day.” You couldn’t believe how it started out. “The best Christmas experience.”

“Excuse me.” An older woman seemed to pop up out of nowhere. “We have our annual cookie bake-off and our judge wasn’t able to attend. The two of you look like you have a nice palette. Would you mind stepping in?”

Your mouth hung open in shock.

“Of course we will.” Bucky shoved your shoulder. “Right?”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to let the baker’s down.” You grinned.

“Follow me.” The woman waved toward the storefronts.

Bucky grabbed your hand with a wink. Romkovia was something special.

“Our esteemed judges have chosen.” The MC flipped open the envelope. “Beatrice’s sugar cookies as our champion!”

You nodded and smiled as Beatrice looked shocked and teared up.

“Those really were the best cookies I’ve ever tasted.” Bucky whispered in your ear.

“I know.” Your eyes went wide with exaggeration. “I don’t know how another cookie will ever compare.”

“Thank you so much for your assistance.” The MC came up and thanked you again. “You look familiar.”

Her eyes were on Bucky.

“I live around here. You may have seen me from time to time.” He shrugged.

“That must be it, but I don’t know. I feel like I should place you elsewhere.” She turned her head, trying to look him up and down.

“Thank you again, for a marvelous opportunity.” He took her hand. “Warmed our hearts and filled our bellies.”

“You’re quite welcome.” The woman seemed to drop her concern at his charm.

They dropped hands and she walked away. You reached for your coat.

“This has turned into much more of a day than I thought.” You picked up your coat. “I’m scared if I step outside Santa will appear needing help delivering presents. I don’t know how much more my Christmas spirit can handle.”

“Well, Santa will have to wait. Unfortunately, I need to head home.” Bucky put on his jacket and gloves. “Do you have plans tonight?”

“I was going to read a book by the fire.” You smiled, never anticipating a romance as part of your trip. “But I can be persuaded by a better offer.”

“A good book and a warm fire are hard to beat.” Bucky started toward the door of the bakery. “But, there’s a party tonight. Would you meet me there?”

“A party?” You looked at your clothes. “I didn’t pack an ugly sweater if it’s themed.”

“Ugly sweater?” Bucky went cross-eyed.

“It’s a…hard to explain.” You laughed. “Cultural differences.”

“I’ll have a dress delivered to you.” He smiled. “You’ll fit right in.”

“A dress?” Your brow furrowed.

“Please. I never have a date and it would mean the world to me.” He stopped at the door. “I’m not saying it’s a date. I mean, if you wanted to pretend to make me look better I wouldn’t object, or if you wanted it to be a date I wouldn’t object or..”

“I’ll be your date.” You liked awkward Bucky. “What time should I be ready by?”

“I’ll send the dress over in an hour. A car will pick you up at 7?” Bucky pushed open the door.

“A car?” That wasn’t what you were expecting. “Not you?”

“I was supposed to be home hours ago.” He winced. “Or else I would be there myself.”

“Sure.” You figured when in Romkovia. “I’ll be ready by seven.”

Bucky walked you down the street, stopping in front of the inn. He leaned forward and placed a light kiss on your cheek.

“Thank you.” He smiled. “For today, and agreeing to tonight.”

“I had fun too.” Your cheek warmed where his lips had been. “Tonight?”

“Till tonight.” He squeezed your hand as he walked away.

You felt like you were on cloud nine as you went up to your room. Curious what type of dress Bucky was going to send over.

Dress wasn’t the right word. It was a gown. A fancier gown than you’d ever seen. It felt tailor-made as you slipped it on. A bright red number that flared out and accentuated your curves in all the right places.

When it was delivered you thought about canceling, but realized you couldn’t. You didn’t have his number. You told yourself it was cultural differences and set out to pile your hair on the top of your head and doing your make-up the best you could to match the beautiful outfit.

It came with shoes and long white gloves that went up past your elbows. When you looked in the mirror at yourself you almost cried.

“I look like a princess.” Your mouth parted as you grabbed the white fur cloak Bucky’d sent and the small matching handbag.

You realized you never found out what he had done for a living all day. Based on the outfit you assumed it was something that paid well.

“You’re not a gold digger.” You rolled your eyes.

Bucky knew that. You never would have accepted these gifts. The clock was almost seven and you lifted your head and walked down to the lobby.

“Lovely.” The Innkeeper was at the bottom of the stairs. “Are you going to the palace?”

“The palace?” You held your gown up, careful not to trip.

“It’s the royal Christmas ball.” She reached out for your hands. “You will be the most beautiful person there.”

“Do you know a man named Bucky?” You tried to think of his last name. “Longer brown hair scruffled beard. Blue eyes?”

“I think with a name like ‘Bucky’ I would remember him.” She shook her head. “Is he your date? Maybe he is a palace guard. I know they all get invited. It’s quite a celebration.”

“He said party. I was ready for cheese dip and charades.” You dropped her hand and pointed to the dress. “Not waltzes and champagne.”

“You’ll be the belle!” She kissed your cheek. “Your carriage awaits.”

Your stomach dropped, half expecting a real carriage. Instead, there was a town car with a driver, opening the door for you.

“Have fun!” The Innkeeper and her husband waved as you climbed in the back, worried where the night was headed but butterflies in your stomach told you someplace magical.

“Announcing Miss Y/L/N.” A man boomed your voice when you entered the palace.

All eyes turned to you. You didn’t know if your shocked face matched their own. You couldn’t focus for too long as your eyes went to the ceiling of the massive ballroom. A Christmas ball at a real European castle. Your head was swimming.

The next guest was announced and a waiter handed you a glass of champagne. You made your way amongst the strangers, soaking it all in, hoping that Bucky would swoop in and guide you through the night.

“Funny, I didn’t realize you were inviting peasants this year.” The voice caught your attention.

You turned to see a stick skinny woman in a beautiful blue gown about your age. Her face was twisted in anger as she spoke to an older woman who matched her in beauty and grace. Her face looked just as disappointed as she looked you up and down.

Then you noticed the golden crown nestled on the top of her head and again your mouth hung open.

“Your majesty.” You bowed, never thinking you would ever meet a real Royal. “I was not expecting the honor.”

“In Romkovia we go by ‘Your Grace’.” The queen approached you. “Something you would know if you were from here. If you were one of us. But you never will be. You need to accept that and leave.”

“I’m sorry.” You were stunned and confused at the same time. “I am in your beautiful country visiting. I meant no offense.”

“Tell me.” She held her shoulder back. “What makes you think you’re good enough for the Prince? Good enough for Romkovia? You don’t know what it takes to lead. You’re not a royal and you will never be one.”

“Ummm.” You bit your lip. “What?”

“ANNOUNCING THE CROWN PRINCE OF ROMKOVIA, HEIR APPARENT TO THE CROWN JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES.” The booming announcement made you look away from the Queen.

The sight at the top of the stairs made you almost stumble. There was Bucky, short-haired, styled back, no beard, dressed like a Prince.

Someone whacked into your shoulder on one side and then another as the queen and the beauty walked passed you.

Bucky came down the stairs one at a time. His eyes scanned the crowd and stopped at you. A smile spread across his face.

The crowd went back to chatting and the orchestra music started again. The queen and the other woman both tried for his attention, but he brushed them off as he made his way to you.

“My lady.” He lifted your gloved hand and placed a kiss on your knuckles. “May I have this dance?”

“You’re the friggin Pince?!?” You spoke through gritted teeth.

“Sometimes I like to disguise myself amongst my people.” Bucky led you to the dance floor. “It cheers me up. But nothing like the cheer, I felt with you today.”

He took your hand in the air and his other found your hip as he began to lead you around the dance floor.

“A warning would have been nice!” You glanced around the room. “That’s why the woman recognized you at the cookie contest?”

“I clean up nicely.” He winked. “And so do you. You look lovely.”

“I don’t appreciate being lied to.” You tried to focus on him and not the eyes on you as you moved across the dance floor.

“I never lied.” He spun you in a circle. “I felt a connection with you like none other. The sleigh ride, the carolers. All of it.”

Your heart grew warm at the memories.

“What does my title have to do with any of that?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Nothing.” You sighed. “I felt it too. Prince or not. Not more secrets though. Agreed?”

The song ended and Bucky bowed, you curtsied like the other dancing ladies.

“In the interest of being honest.” Bucky offered you an arm. You wrapped yours around it as he led you off the dance floor.

“I don’t think your mother likes me.” The queen glared daggers as you walked by.

“She wants me to marry Regina.” He sighed. “I’ve refused multiple times. But she will not relent.”

“I take it Regina is the beautiful woman whose face is in a permanent snarl?” You noticed her seconds away from flipping you off as you walked by.

“That’s one way to put it.” Bucky paused in the corner. “I don’t want to talk about my mother or Regina. I want to talk about us, about today, about the magic around us.”

“It was magic, wasn’t it?” You felt giddy, knowing it wasn’t just you.

“I have a confession. Today, I was so upset because I’d come to terms that I was about to lose everything.” Bucky took both your hands. “But then like an absolute angel you crossed my path. I’ve had more fun today, more fun with you than anyone. Due to a very old royal decree I am to lose my crown at midnight on Christmas eve if I am not wed. Will you be my wife?”

You blinked at him several times. This could not be happening. You started to look around the room.

“Y/N?” Bucky looked concerned.

“I’m just trying to find the secret camera.” You didn’t drop his hands. “Is this a prank?”

“I know you felt it too. Our connection.” He reached in his pocket. “Please. Make me the happiest man on Earth?”

You brought your free hand to your mouth as you saw the biggest diamond in existence.

“But…I’m a stranger.” You felt dizzy. “And your mom clearly hates me!”

“But, dare I say it, I love you.” Bucky pulled you close. “You and only you.”

“You don’t know me.” You touched his chest, not sure you wanted to getaway.

“I know your soul.” He smiled. “The rest will be surprises along the way. All of which I’m sure to enjoy.”

It felt like the room was closing in. Your heart screams yes, your brain telling it to calm down. Then your eyes settled on a rat looking man in the corner. His nose giant and his mustache looking like whiskers.

“That is my evil cousin Gerald.” Bucky sighed. “He is watching us, because without my wedding, he inherits the throne and will no doubt turn Romkovia into shambles.”

“I…I can’t…this is too much pressure.” You took a step back as Bucky’s arms fell. “Marry Beatrice then. Save the country.”

“If I have to spend a lifetime without love. It will turn me as hard as my mother. I’ll be the one who puts Romkovia in shambles.” There was a pleading to his voice. “I need you. Please.”

You felt yourself slipping away.

“I need air.” You spun. “Don’t follow me.”

You made your way to the balcony. Bursting outside. The cool air on your skin was refreshing. The weather here was truly magical. Tears came to your eyes as you tried to comprehend what was happening.

“I hope those are tears of joy.” A man stepped out from the corner of the stone veranda.

“You.” Your eyes went up and down his red tuxedo. His brown eyes were unmistakable. “You’re the Santa from this morning.”

“You don’t like your Christmas wish?” He came next to you.

“My friends and family stay happy and healthy?” You smiled. “I appreciate it quite a bit.”

“That was what your mouth spoke. But I heard your heart. You wished for love.” He leaned against the railing. “And isn’t that what you’ve found? In a day no less, with a prince who worships you. What is there to cry about?”

“This is too much, too soon.” You laughed. “I can’t handle this.”

“Listen to your heart.” He touched your chest. “It’s never wrong.”

“Who are you talking to?” The voice of the queen made you snap your head.

You turned to look back at the man touching your heart, but there was nobody there.

“Santa?” You glanced around for him.

“My son has made me realize something.” The queen walked over to you. “I saw it in his eyes just now. The same look is in yours. She grabbed your hands. Where there is love there is my blessing.”

“Your Grace. I don’t know what to say.” Check off evil-mom.

“Say yes.” She squeezed your hands. “Let my son make you as happy as you make him.”

She took your arm in hers and led you back inside. The entire ball had stopped and was looking at you.

“I realized I may have forgotten an important part of tradition.” Bucky dropped to one knee on the dance floor. “Please, marry me?”

He held up the ring box.

“Ugh.” His mother rolled her eyes and she dropped your hand and grabbed her own. “Don’t use that old antique. This one is much preferred.”

She handed her son her own engagement ring. He beamed up at her then back at you, now holding an even more gorgeous diamond that meant so much more.

You didn’t know what to say, your insides struggling, but if there was one person’s advice you could count on it was Santa. So you listened to your heart.

“Yes.” You didn’t have time to think before Bucky was on his feet.

His arms wrapped around you as his lips crashed against yours. The entire ballroom exploded in applause. Christmas magic was truly in the air.

Christmas Eve was a blur. You spent all morning readying for your wedding. The dress was ornate, regal, and pure white.

When the doors of the chapel opened for you to walk down the aisle your heart melted. In the pews were your nieces and nephew accompanied by their grandparents. Then you saw every one of your students and their parents. Then your neighbors, including mean old Mr. Crandle with a huge smile on his face.

Bucky waited for you at the top of the aisle.

“I had a private jet chartered for them.” He took your hands as he whispered in your ear. “As a wedding gift.”

“And here I was going to buy you a scarf.” You whispered back.

“You’ve already given me the best gift.” He kissed your hand. “Love.”

And what love it was.

The wedding flew by. You’d changed gowns three times and by the time the dancing was done and all the children were asleep it was time for you and Bucky to retire. Your nerves were through the roof as he led you through the palace.

“Welcome home.” He opened the door to his private rooms.

Your voice caught in your throat as you walked inside.

“Of course mother gave us an estate as a wedding gift.” Bucky walked over to the giant four poster bed. “And it will be yours to decorate as you please.”

“This is a fairytale.” You sat on the bed.

“This if your life.” Bucky put a hand on your cheek. “My Princess.”

His lips found yours as he laid you back on to the bed. He was gentle, his tongue dancing with yours in a sublime kiss. Your hands went for his clothing and he began to peel away the layers. You wanted to have all of your prince, your husband.

He sat up and stripped down, then grabbed your arm and pulled you up, pushing your gown off. You rose from the bed and shimmied out of the thing, wanting nothing between the two of you. Bucky continued to kiss you as he kicked off his pants and shoes.

“You are exquisite in every way.” He laid you back on the bed while he loomed over you, his eyes taking in your shape.

Normally you were nervous your first time with anyone, but it was different with Bucky, everything was. You held your hand up, signaling for him to come down.

He honored your request and crashed his lips to yours as he moved you back deeper into the plush bed.

The last few days now felt like nothing but a tease and you were more than ready for him. You parted your legs and bent your knees, then reached for him. Your eyes popped up when you felt how large he was. Royal indeed.

“Keep touching me like that and I won’t be able to consummate this marriage.” Bucky kissed down your jaw to your neck.

You moved your hands to his hips and guided him forward. His cock found your entrance and he pushed inside.

Your back arched as he slid into you with ease, your body waiting and ready for him.

“It’s like you were sent for me.” He kissed down your clavicle. “My special Christmas gift.”

A moan left your mouth as he began to pump in and out of you, each thrust sending sparks through your body. You rocked against him, both of you turning into a sweaty mess as he brought you alive in more ways than you thought possible.

“Bucky…I….I’m going to.” You were running out of breath.

“Open for me.” His teeth dragged your skin. “Pull the ribbon, yank the bow. Come undone.”

Your toes curled as you exploded underneath him, pleasure shooting out from your core. You gasped and moaned as he continued, elongating your orgasm.

“Such a wonderful present.” He bottomed out inside of you. “My gift.”

His seed filled you up, coating your walls and womb. Normally you would have objected, but you were married. There was nothing wrong with trying for little princes and princess right away.

Bucky pulled out and rolled to his side, snuggling you against him.

“Merry Christmas.” He kissed the top of your head. “Wife.”

A smile crossed your face. Princess would take stop time to get used to, but you liked wife right away.

#bucky x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #christmas fanfic #hallmark christmas #hallmark #christmas

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unwiltingblossom · 4 years ago

Text

Queen's Favor (Mysme Jumin/MC AU 11/?)

Summary: Being a maid would be much easier if the cat would just let her do her job.

AU - Instead of joining the RFA via random text, MC is hired on as one of the maids assigned to Jumin Han’s penthouse. Nothing else about the setting has changed, the messenger and the RFA still exist, only the MC’s position has been altered.

Arguably, she was too distracted to do her job properly...but 'I'm too distracted thinking about the wallet I lost and then found again' wasn't really a valid excuse for leave no matter who she spoke to about it. Even she wouldn't approve of it.

"Ow-!" She hissed as she yanked her hand back and immediately stuck her finger into her mouth - as if she hadn't just stuck the handle of her duster there five minutes before and her mouth was a sanitary sanctuary untouched by bacteria.

Maybe it was her own fault for losing focus, but she still glared at the previously jammed vacuum anyway. The blood sacrifice of biting her finger had apparently sated it, and this time when she put it back together it started and spun its brushes freely. "I'm not resetting the calendar for you, we're not counting this one."

No one was in the room to hear her admonish the equipment, but that worked just fine for her: it meant no one was in the room to see the injury, so she could claim she slipped going up the stairs before she got into the penthouse at all. If anyone asked. Though the bigger concern was that she couldn't exactly bleed all over Elizabeth, and her boss didn't want her to handle the cat with latex on her hands. Technically that probably applied mostly to the dish gloves and other things she wore, not a simple band-aid, but there was always the chance that the cat was just so pampered it'd never encountered latex before and might even have an allergy. Or maybe Mr. Han did?

Well, the important thing was, she'd have to handle the cat with one hand today.

"Next time don't sit around fantasizing about pretty boys while you work, and you won't make it harder on yourself, now will you?" She scoffed at herself, shaking her head as she turned and made her way to her equipment back to dig out the necessary bandage.

Really, though. It wasn't the first time she'd messed up something that day, just the first time she'd injured herself. Arguably, she was too distracted to do her job properly...but 'I'm too distracted thinking about the wallet I lost and then found again' wasn't really a valid excuse for leave no matter who she spoke to about it. Even she wouldn't approve of it.

It's just...

Why had her wallet been in the middle of the floor? She never carried her purse over there, so how did it even get there? Between going to the convenience store for a late night snack a couple of nights before that and her near-death walletless encounter, how had it moved from the purse she kept by the door to the floor several feet away from it? It was even in the open, and sure she wasn't getting that great sleep but did she really miss it that many days without even looking at the floor? Was she becoming a slob in her own house as a consequence of being a hyper-vigilant maid elsewhere?

But she never took her wallet out of her purse in her home, and she always took her purse with her...

A rolling 'mrew' broke through her thoughts and she blinked, looking up at the still sealed bandage in her hand. "Ah-"

Elizabeth sat next to her, blinking up at her with those curious blue eyes. Rather ominously close to her cut hand. Before the cat could get any ideas - and she find a way to end up in the hospital for something even more embarrassing than last time - she quickly pulled her injured hand up out of reach of the cat. "Don't look at me like that. You know, I have fifteen more minutes of me time before it's your turn."

She blinked, and then gingerly reached out to pat the cat on the head with her uninjured hand before standing up. "Don't tell you father about what I just said." As far as she was concerned 'focus on work, not cat' counted as 'her time', but she doubted her employer would feel quite the same about her referring to her actual job as something like 'me time' - especially while she failed to actually do the job properly.

She managed not to drift off into pointless thoughts through the rest of the day, and therefore not injure herself further or mess up entertaining Elizabeth with just one hand. Still, she'd wasted some precious time early on and had to hustle to catch up to her schedule. Rather than have a decent chunk of time left before the owner of the penthouse got back, she was left with only a few minutes before her deadline when she was finally done. She'd blame it on the fact that it was Monday...but she knew full well Mina did the penthouse on Sunday. She had no one to blame the rough day on but herself and her own ridiculous imagination.

At the end of the day, there really wasn't any other answer to how her wallet got to the middle of the floor from her purse than that she somehow spilled it out of the purse at some point. Maybe when she was tired and frazzled on Saturday night after she'd walked all over creation chasing that one street jerk. It was possible, at least, and that was better than literally any other idea that came to her.

She flumped over onto the couch in the most dramatic way possible - knees on the rug, face and arm buried into the leather cushion. She could technically leave right now, but she didn't have to, and if she was going to catch her breath after a harrowing day of being her own worst enemy, it was much more comfortable to borrow the penthouse to do that than wait until she could lay on her own threadbare bed to do it.

A soft thump and shift of the cushion told her the cat followed her.

She peeked up from her arm to the cloud of white and two bright blue eyes looking down at her. Ordinarily, she'd use the hand her face wasn't pinning to the couch to pet the cat with, but that one happened to be the no-no latex one, so staring contest it was. "I know, he'll be here any minute, but I think we both can agree this isn't the weirdest position hes walked in on me in."

Elizabeth meowed directly in her face. It smelled of fish.

"Yes, well, you'll have to pet yourself with my hand, because I'm not getting up yet."

The cat flopped to the side, head on her wrist.

"That's just lazy."

Elizabeth huffed and twisted onto her back. And bapped a cat paw directly to her cheek. All pad and no claw, at least.

"That isn't a counter argu-"

The door choose precisely then to open. Which didn't mean Elizabeth won. They could continue the conversation next time. The cat rolled itself right off of the bed and sprinted over to the legs of the penthouse's owner, and she spared a glance over her shoulder up to meet his. She didn't know if she should feel ashamed over the complete lack of surprise or intrigue in his eyes, considering she hadn't moved at all from where she'd been.

One day she'd get him to look surprised at what he walked in on, and on that day she'd probably die from whatever it was she'd have gotten herself into.

She really was tempted to just put her face back into the couch and stay there for a while, but while her employer gave no sign of disapproval that she'd yet to leave - she was pretty sure they'd long ago crossed the line to where her being literally present in the penthouse at the same time as him wasn't really a concern - that wasn't exactly an open invitation for her to remain, either. She was the help, not a guest. Alas, she had to bid farewell to the comfortable sofa and rug, and go collect her things. She brushed off her pants - no matter how much effort she put in, there was always cat hair to be brushed off - and gave her employer a small nod as she strode across the room to get her bag of stuff.

"I'm already finished, so I'll be off."

"I won't be working tomorrow." His voice was smooth and matter of fact, but still somehow managed to startle her.

"Huh-? But my schedule said-"

He nodded, casually undoing the buttons of his overcoat, before reaching down to collect the cat in his arms. He didn't even bother to take the coat off before picking her up. The words his dry-cleaner must have had about him... "It is uninterrupted, yes." He tilted his head slightly, and the rare flicker of a smile passed over his lips. "I believe...I may be able to avoid getting in the way for one day, at least."

She wasn't even sure herself if her brief laugh was out of amusement or disbelief.

"I'll be sure to report any unruly disturbances to you immediately."

His eyes squinted, just slightly, in what she chose to assume was amusement, rather than disbelief. "Do so."

–

The springs of her bed - which doubled as her couch - squeaked in protest when she settled down on it, and...yes, it really wasn't anywhere near as comfortable as the one in the penthouse. Somehow, the apartment wasn't that big and yet the remote for the television was still out of reach from where she sat. Did she really toss it that far away last night, or had she turned into such a zombie in the mornings that she kicked it across the room just getting ready and hadn't noticed it?

Really, it wasn't that strange to work with the owner present. Many times that was just part of the job, actually. Only Jumin Han's own eccentricities made it feel like something strange to work in the house when he was present. Well, that, or she still nursed some suppressed trauma over the time she got a concussion. One of those, anyway. Though it did make her wonder if she'd walk in on him doing something strange for once this time.

Granted, if she did, she couldn't help but expect there'd be an immediate NDA or something slapped down right in front of her face immediately after. Somehow he'd still manage to be the one who came out on top, even if she walked in on him half dressed and covered in strange tattoos, hunched over a pile of burning books and eating half of a rabbit or something.

Wait, no...

That image was just terrifying.

The phone lit up as she shuddered.

She glanced down immediately, train of thought broken from the sudden burst of light in the darkness of her apartment. That actor, Zen, had sent her a friendly text the night before to test whether her number actually worked, so if he put in that much effort he probably hadn't done it just out of some kind of weird sense of politeness. Follow up texts were always possible.

-No, it was just some unknown number. Really, who gave her number away to some spam company? She just kept getting random phonecalls from weird numbers recently! And they were mostly late at night, too, so probably some foreign based companies.

I bet it was that glasses jerk...

She clicked her tongue and tossed the phone to the nightstand next to her bed, flopping back onto the mattress lengthwise. "I didn't almost die today." That was an improvement over the weekend. If she managed not to injure herself in front of her boss tomorrow, she might actually be set for a completely normal day - nay, perhaps a week even.

Her own laughter cut through the rare quiet of her room. "Thinking about attractive men at work and then about your employer at home, really? You really are a mess."

Ah, yes. Her thoughts were full of a random man who rescued her from death, a ridiculous self-created mystery about her own wallet, and about her work. And she talked to herself when she wasn't talking to a cat. Her social life was in shambles.

#mysme #mystic messenger #mysme fic #jumin x mc #elizabeth 3rd #mystic messenger fic #ooc

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jondalars · 5 years ago

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movies, tv shows, and books of 2020

((* is a rewatch/reread; currently watching; can’t get through))

Watership Down by Richard Adams

Archaeology by Walter Shepherd

The Discovery of the Tomb of Tutankhamen by Howard Carter, A.C. Mace

Hot Rod (2007)

Dare Me (s1)

Secret Societies: A History by Arkon Daraul

Ad Vitam (s1)

The Bear and the Nightingale by Katherine Arden *

Лучше, чем люди (s1)

Don’t Look Now (1973)

Cheer (s1)

The Good Place (s4)

Despite the Falling Snow (2016)

The Talented Mr. Ripley (1999)

Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019)

Under the Skin (2014)

The Invitation (2016)

Hustlers (2019)

The Magicians (s5)

The Girl in the Tower by Katherine Arden

Mandy (2018)

Anne with an E (s3)

About Time (2013)

Spring Breakers (2012) *

God’s Own Country (2017)

Frances Ha (2012) *

The Beauty of the Husband by Anne Carson *

Blue Is the Warmest Colour (2013)

Y Tu Mamá También (2001)

The Argonauts by Maggie Nelson

American Honey (2016)

6 Balloons (2018)

It Comes at Night (2017)

The Peanut Butter Falcon (2019) & *

Berlin Syndrome (2017)

I, Claudius by Robert Graves *

Earthquake Bird (2019)

City of God (2002)

Click (2006)

The Society (s1*)

Roma (2018)

Bojack Horseman (s6)

Taylor Swift: Miss Americana (2020)

Ready or Not (2019)

From Dusk Till Dawn (s1*, s2, s3)

The Sparrow by Mary Doria Russell

On the Beach by Nevil Shute

The Little Hours (2017)

Teeth (2008)

Altered Carbon (s1)

Horse Girl (2020)

The Lighthouse (2019)

Parasite (2019) *

Ragnarok (s1)

McMillions (s1)

To All the Boys: P.S. I Still Love You (2020)

Honey Boy (2019)

Claudius the God and His Wife Messalina by Robert Graves

The Farewell (2019)

Why Did I Ever by Mary Robison *

Howl’s Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones *

Fathers and Sons by Ivan Turgenev

Good Time (2017) *

The Pianist (2002)

American Vandal (s1*, s2*)

The Engineer of Human Souls by Josef Škvorecký

Anna Karenina (2012) *

Shameless (s1*, s2*, s3*, s4*, s5*, s6*, s7*, s8, s9, s10)

The Inheritors by William Golding

Animal Farm by George Orwell *

The Trials of Gabriel Fernandez (s1)

Raising Arizona (1987) *

Freaks (2018)

The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Lost Girls (2020)

Rat Race (2001) *

The Skeleton Twins (2014)

Pamela by Samuel Richardson

Memoirs of Hadrian by Marguerite Yourcenar

Driving Miss Daisy (1989)

Uncut Gems (2019)

Emma. (2020)

Emma (1996) *

Roswell, New Mexico (s2)

Written on the Body by Jeanette Winterson

The Platform (2019)

Twin Peaks (s1)

Mansfield Park (1999) *

A Ghost Story (2017)

The Duchess (2008) *

20th Century Women (2016) *

A Single Man (2009) *

Tiger King: Murder, Mayhem and Madness (s1)

White Oleander by Janet Fitch *

Clue (1985) *

Summer Night (2019)

Groundhog Day (1993)

Outbreak (1995)

Myths Every Child Should Know by Hamilton Wright Mabie

The Leftovers (s1*, s2, s3)

The Perks of Being a Wallflower (2012) *

Zombieland: Double Tab (2019)

Hans Andersen’s Fairy Tales trans. H. Oskar Sommer

Lives of Celebrated Female Sovereigns and Illustrious Women by Mrs. Anna Jameson

Twilight (2008) *

The Social Network (2010) *

Law & Order: SVU (s2, s3, s4, s20)

Little Women (2019)

New Moon (2009) *

Lucy's Child: The Discovery of a Human Ancestor by Donald C. Johanson & James Shreeve

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen *

For Whom the Bell Tolls by Ernest Hemingway

Love Wedding Repeat (2020)

The Big Sick (2017) *

The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins *

Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins *

Emma by Jane Austen *

Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins *

National Treasure (2004) *

The Hating Game by Sally Thorne *

The Death of Stalin (2017) *

The Girl with All the Gifts (2016)

Alexander the Great by Paul Cartledge

Upload (s1)

Secondhand Time: The Last of the Soviets by Svetlana Alexievitch

The Bling Ring (2013) *

Gravity’s Rainbow by Thomas Pynchon

Killing Eve (s3)

Normal People by Sally Rooney

Contagion (2011)

Can You Keep a Secret? (2019)

Trick Mirror: Reflections on Self-Delusion by Jia Tolentino

Notting Hill (1999) *

The Host (2013) *

Joker (2019)

The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoyevsky

The Selection by Kiera Cass

Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo

The Elite by Kiera Cass

The One by Kiera Cass

Seberg (2019)

Inception (2010) *

The Princess Bride (1987) *

The Lovebirds (2020)

Moonstruck (1987)

Galavant (s1*, s2*)

Underworld (2003)

The Master (2012)

Waco (s1)

The Awakening by Kate Chopin *

East of Eden by John Steinbeck

Man Up (2015) *

The Haunting of Hill House (s1*)

Democracy by Joan Didion *

Community (s1*, s2*, s3*, s4*, s5*, s6)

The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath *

Hannibal (s1)

Plainwater: Essays and Poetry by Anne Carson *

Before I Fall (2017)

The Disaster Artist (2017) *

Anna Karenina: Vronsky’s Story (s1)

Love (s1, s2, s3)

Avatar: The Last Airbender (s1, s2, s3)

Persuasion by Jane Austen **

I Am Not Your Negro (2016)

Dovlatov (2018)

The Politician (s2)

Rant by Chuck Palahniuk *

13th (2016) *

Uptown Girls (2003) *

Lovesick (s1 ,s2, s3)

Crash Landing on You (s1 & *)

Clueless (1995)

Well-Intended Love (s2)

Athlete A (2020)

Dark (s3)

The Half of It (2020)

Guns Akimbo (2019)

Splice (2009)

The King: Eternal Monarch (s1)

Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro *

Are Prisons Obsolete? by Angela Y. Davis

The Old Guard (2020)

I May Destroy You (s1)

Blindspotting (2018)

Slouching Towards Bethlehem by Joan Didion *

She’s the Man (2006) *

Marina Abramovic: The Artist is Present (2012)

Zodiac (2007) *

Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga (2020)

The Untamed (s1 & *)

The First Man in Rome by Colleen McCullough

A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara *

The Hater (2020)

Stay (2019)

The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold *

The Great (s1)

The Assistant (2019)

The Umbrella Academy (s2)

Straight Up (2019)

Red, White & Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston

Burning (2018)

True History of the Kelly Gang (2019)

Mo Dao Zu Shi by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu

Mo Dao Zu Shi (s1, s2)

The Legend of Korra (s1, s2)

Nightcrawler (2014)

3% (s1*, s2, s3, s4)

The Runaways (2010) *

Midnight Sun by Stephenie Meyer

Sleepless in Seattle (1993)

My Best Friend’s Wedding (1997) *

#Alive (2020)

The Boys (s2)

Palm Springs (2020)

Normal People (s1)

Radioactive (2019)

Man of the Year (2006)

The Sirens of Titan by Kurt Vonnegut

Logan Lucky (2017)

Crush by Richard Siken *

The Babysitter: Killer Queen (2020)

Schitt’s Creek (s6, Best Wishes, Warmest Regards)

The Devil All the Time (2020)

Underworld by Don DeLillo

Happy Together (1997)

Hubie Halloween (2020)

American Murder: The Family Next Door (2020)

Prime Rewind: Inside The Boys (s1)

Deaf U (s1)

Don't F**k With Cats: Hunting an Internet Killer (s1)

28 Days (2000) *

Pride & Prejudice (2005) *

Borat Subsequent Moviefilm (2020)

The Iliad by Homer trans. Chase and Perry *

Murder Mystery (2019) *

War and the Iliad by Simone Weil and Rachel Bespaloff *

It’s Okay to Not be Okay (s1)

Holidate (2020)

The Princess Switch (2018)

Blackpink: Light Up the Sky (2020)

Sense and Sensibility (s1) ((2008))

Pride and Prejudice (s1*) ((1980))

A Christmas Prince (2017)

The Psychopath Test: A Journey Through the Madness Industry by Jon Ronson *

Catch Me If You Can: The True Story of a Real Fake by Frank W. Abagnale & Stan Redding *

Easy A (2010) *

Nine Plays of Chekov by Anton Chekov

Survivor (s1, s2, s3, s4, s5, s6, s7, s8, s9, s10, s11, s12, s13, s14, s15, s16, s17, s28)

Bad Teacher (2011)

Ocean’s Eleven (2001) *

Autobiography of Red by Anne Carson *

Happiest Season (2020)

Secrets of the Saqqara Tomb (2020)

The Princess Switch: Switched Again (2020)

The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test by Tom Wolfe *

Cosmopolis by Don DeLillo *

100 Days My Prince (s1)

The Stranger by Albert Camus *

The Myth of Sisyphus and Other Essays by Albert Camus

The Wilds (s1)

#personal #2020 #starting the year strong by finishing a book at 1 am on NYE?? sure #why am i still watching anne with an e... i #can u believe... the sparrow and the society having the same drop by drop quote #also... altered carbon talking about roman roads being their greatest invention and then... claudius the god saying the same #what does it all mean #back to back to back??#wooow watching 10 whole seasons of shameless... just for mickey.... yikes and lol at me #emma. was.. not good((( so we had to immediately watch the good emma #roswell nm s2 auto dvred so uhhh guess we going for it #is summer night the worst movie ive ever seen? ---- yes #god.. 20 whole seasons of svu who am i #upload was v cute #alex.. galaxy... i #america singer.... lOOOOOOOL at myself god it was bad #hm i don tthink i ever watched community s6.. some of it kinda seemed familiar but also it didnt?? LET HIM FINISH #atla is so good i know yall know but i did not #hotmen and momo and sokka tripping in the desert together.. perfect #crash landing uhhhhh well!!!!!!#you watch 2 korean shows and netflix shows you a whole new home page of recommendations loool #idk if u remember this but last week i shot your bear and punched you in the stomach #the untamed iii burnnn!!!!#am i going insane over cql/mdzs... mind ur business #midnight sun... edward pls stop so many.. thoughts lmao i remember rly liking the leaked version i wonder how diff the first 10 chaps are #dont think thats the version of the iliad ive read before but it gets marked as a reread anyways #guess i have to watch all 40 seasons of survivor...

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yeosang-jpg · 6 years ago

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My Treasure [ATEEZ Pirate AU] Chapter Two.

The town was bustling, never mind that it was the ungodly hour of five in the morning. People were walking here and there, to the market, the tanner, the bakery. As everyone went about their morning chores, Sohee Lee entered the bakery to fetch some strawberry pastries, wearing a formal pink dress she'd sewn herself.

"G'morning, Sohee!" exclaimed the baker as she entered. "Here to pick up somethin' o' Master Choi's? I hear he's already hard at work!"

Sohee smiled; she too heard the loud clanging of metal as San worked in the forge. "Indeed he is, but oddly so, in my opinion. He should be getting ready."

The baker laughed and slammed a hand down on the table, his face red and his mood jovial. "That's right!" he recalled, wagging a finger her direction. "Today is the wedding!"

Though Sohee still wore her smile, her gaze became a little sad. "You are correct! Do you like the dress I've made for it?"

"It looks lovely, Miss Lee," answered the baker, his round face red with joy. "By this point, I've gotten used to seeing you create beautiful dresses for many women around Port Royal!"

The woman laughed lightly and waved a dismissive hand. She had only made a couple dresses for others... her sewing skills were nowhere near the caliber she would need to have if she ever wished to open her own shop. Nonetheless, the baker's flattery brought a warm smile to her face. With a heartfelt farewell, Sohee grabbed the pastries and paid the man before waving farewell and exiting.

As she returned to the forge, Sohee had to walk carefully to avoid being bumped into or having her dress stepped on. At last, however, she rounded the corner and arrived at her destination. She knew the place so well—since the age of twelve, Sohee had been the Choi's apprentice. Her friendship with Choi San was a fast one; before long, they would be often found playing with the pigs or cows. She taught him how to snag the freshest, juiciest apple from the apple trees, and he taught her how to forge a sword or temper metal in return.

When she stepped inside, Sohee inhaled deeply and faked the deepest voice she could muster. "Pardon me, Master Choi, but I have a request!"

The hammer San held stopped in midair. "And what would your request be, sir?"

Dropping her pretense, Sohee laughed and said, "That you stop working and eat some breakfast."

San chuckled and turned around, his smock already grimy with smoke and ash. As usual, there was a single streak of gray lining his cheek. "I suppose I could do that," he grinned, laying down the hammer and walking to Sohee.

She held out a pastry as he approached. "Open."

He did; she laughed as he bit the pastry and some of the strawberry jam stained his shirt. But San simply shrugged amiably. "Doesn't matter," he exclaimed, waving off the pink blotch on his white shirt. His brown eyes were cheerful as he added, "I won't be wearing it for long!"

Sohee smiled at his good mood and chastised him, "Speaking of, shouldn't you be preparing? This day only comes once in a man's life, you know."

"That it does, but I have all of daylight until the ceremony. You worry over me too much, Sohee, whether I am battling pirates or my appearance for my wedding." With that, he shook his head, a light smile at the corner of his lips, and returned to the hammer.

"Oh, for goodness sake, put that hammer down," she commanded, hands on her hips. "You work too hard. Do you not deserve a day off?"

"There you go again," laughed San without looking at her.

Though Sohee wanted nothing more than to laugh, she took care to keep her voice stern. "You force me to, Choi San. You are a magnet for trouble."

Sohee felt rather than saw him grin with his next comment. "Aye, I won't argue with you there." Then he resumed pounding the blacksmith hammer upon the sword he was crafting.

With a huff, she set down the basket of pastries and grabbed a hammer herself. "Well, if you insist on working, I might as well ease your workload."

"Whoa, there, not so fast," protested San, seeing her raise the tool. She stopped in mid-swing and glanced at him questioningly. He shot her a look and forcibly took the hammer from her, smirking as he did. "I forbid you from working in my forge today," he declared. "Though we may almost always work together, today, you are already dressed; I will not have you soil the dress you worked so hard to make. You've spent two months on it. I won't see you ruin it after all your work."

Sohee sighed, but did as he pleaded, if only because it was his wedding day. "Well, San, if you insist on being stubborn, I will go elsewhere so I might actually be useful. Have the decorations for the reception been set up?"

"Governor Kwon is attending to it. I wish you would stay here in the forge for a little while longer. I am not going to be here for another three weeks, and I will miss my best friend while I am gone."

She chuckled softly. "Perhaps, but you deserve the time off with your wife to-be."

"Maybe... but perhaps while I am gone, you might give me the hope of attending your wedding someday soon?"

Sohee laughed and shook her head. "I do not know about that..."

"Come on, Soo," he crooned, setting down the hammer and placing a hand on her shoulder. Sohee smiled at the old nickname. "You degrade yourself. You are beautiful and kind and intelligent. Any man would be lucky to have you as his wife."

"We shall see about that, San," she sighed heavily. Sohee was uncertain about if she would ever find a man she would love more than him. The task was daunting at best—impossible at worst. "I will keep an open eye and heart."

"Excellent. You are turning twenty next year... I hope to see you happy by that time."

Each word was a dagger to her heart, but of course Sohee could not say as much. "I hope so, too, San. But for today, let us focus on you. I will go help Eunseo's father finish the decorations. I shall see you later." She spoke quickly, knowing that if he pleaded her to stay again, she would be unable to decline him.

So she simply kissed his hand and walked out.

For the next six hours, Sohee and Governor Kwonn completed the outdoor preparations. When they were finished, the small clearing overlooking the ocean was almost unrecognizable, bedecked in gorgeous shades of cream and white and gold. Bouquets were set on every table, ribbons of ivory decorated the pews, and buffet tables were placed and ready to be filled. The two exchanged courteous smiles and thanks for the other's help before spending the rest of the day preparing for the ceremony.

Just before sunset, Sohee thought to check on San. When she reached his room, she knocked and asked, "San? Are you in there?"

But the door was not answered by San, Instead, a short man wearing a white powdered wig greeted her. His voice was cold and formal as he stated, "Good evening, miss. Are you looking for Mr. Choi?"

"I am," she confirmed. "Do you know where he is?"

At the mention of his name, San was brought forth. Shackles were on his wrist, and two men surrounded him.

Sohee gasped. "What is the meaning of this?"

"That is none of your concern, miss," said the same man with the hard voice. "If you care for elaboration, feel free to follow us."

Knowing that if she were to speak again, she might get herself or San into trouble, Sohee kept silent and followed the men as they trudged out to where she and Governor Kwon had just finished decorating.

Eunseo was there, kneeling over fallen teacups. When she saw who stood behind her, however, she dropped the bouquet of flowers she was holding and rushed back to San.

"San!" she gasped, fear in her brown eyes. "Why is this happening?"

"I don't know," he replied softly. He looked over her elegant dress and smiled. "You look beautiful."

Eunseo smiled too, though hers was hesitant. "I think it's bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding."

Sohee moved forward and forced herself to put a hand on Eunseo's shoulder. Though Eunseo was not Sohee's favorite person, she swore to always be kind and considerate towards her, seeing as she was her best friend's fiancée. "Do not worry, Eunseo. I am sure this gentleman shall explain what is happening."

Said gentlemen smirked and gave Sohee a once-over, though he was silent.

Just then, the Governor's voice rang out. "Make way, let me through! How dare you! Stand your men down at once! Do you hear me?!"

The man turned to face Governor Kwon, the cold formality still lacing his eyes and tone. "Governor Eui Tae Kwon, it's been too long."

"Lee Jae Ho?"

"It's Lord now, actually," corrected Lord Lee coolly.

"Lord or not, you have no reason and no authority to arrest this man," declared Governor Kwon.

"In fact, I do," contested Lord Lee. "Miss, would you come here, please?"

Sohee was startled to realise that he had summoned her—knowing it could be dangerous to disobey, she obeyed the request. Once she stood next to him, he handed her a stack of parchment. "Hold these for me, please." He rummaged through a number of papers before suddenly asking, "What is your name?"

She glanced at San, who looked irritated and frankly, rather murderous. Then, turning back to Lord Lee, she responded, "Lee Sohee."

"Lee Sohee," repeated Lord Lee softly, his gray eyes scanning through the numerous documents she held. "I see. A-ha. Here it is. The warrant for the arrest of one Choi San."

With these words, Lord Lee held out the warrant for the Governor to take. And he did, perusing it before declaring faintly, "This warrant is for the arrest of Kwon Eunseo!"

"Is it? That's annoying, my mistake. Arrest her."

Some of the soldiers grabbed Eunseo as she gasped, "On what charges?!"

Ignoring her, exclaimed Lord Lee, "A-ha! Here is the one for Choi San. And I have another for a Mister Kang Taehyun! Is he present?"

"As I understand it, he has resigned his commission and gone missing," explained Sohee, wondering what this man could possibly want to arrest the three people for. "He has not been seen around Port Royal for months."

Lord Lee glanced at her again, then nodded and opened his mouth to say something—but he was interrupted by Eunseo, who exclaimed, "Lord Lee! We are under the jurisdiction of the King's Governor of Port Royal, and you will tell us what we are charged with."

Governor Kwon looked down at the warrant and read aloud, "The charge is 'conspiring to set free a man convicted of crimes against the Crown and Empire and condemned to death, for which the punishment...'" But the governor trailed off in horror.

"For which the punishment, regrettably, is also death," finished Lord Lee, cold eyes calculating their expressions. He stepped towards San and added, "Perhaps you remember a certain pirate named Kim Hongjoon."

"Captain!" snarled both Eunseo and San at the same time.

Sohee put a hand to her head. San might have at least tried to fake innocence.

"Captain. Kim Hongjoon," corrected Eunseo

Lord Lee appeared amused. "Captain Hongjoon... Yes, I thought you might." He walked back to Sohee, who was still holding his papers. He carefully took them from her and said, "Thank you, Miss Lee." His hand lightly brushed the inside of her wrist—his eyes landed upon hers for a second before turning away.

After a moment of quiet, Lord Lee waved San forth. "Come, Master Choi. There are a few things I have to discuss with you. Miss Kwon will go to the cells for now—and Miss Lee, please wait outside my office for me to discuss certain matters with you as well."

Sohee started and exchanged a worried glance with San. They could say nothing as they were gestured towards Lord Lee's quarters... all they could do was wait and see what the man wished their presences for, for surely, it would not simply be for pleasantries.

#ATEEZ #kpop #pirate #fantasy #imagines #pirateau #au #hongjoon #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #fanfic #king #romance #pirates of the caribbean

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voidselfshipp · 5 years ago

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Puppet Show au

《◇》

Leonard's little neighborhood in Sydenham is pretty calm today.

He plays with the keys in his hand, twirling them aroun on his finger, as he exists his home,walking his mind dwells into memories that arent relevant in this exact moment, good moments with his sister, little stupid stories , time spent with Friends and family.

Suddenly an eldery woman stops him, her beautiful face, with traces of the years that went by contorns into a small smile,he knows her,its ms.Pietro from a couple of houses away.

-Hello dear, are you in a rush?-

"Not really"leonard thinks and shakes his head.

-Could you take care of my grandkid, Jerico this thursday?, Im going to the hospital that day for some check ups and to pay some bills, and you know that the Banks are usually filled with lot of people-

-Sure ms.Pietro, do you need anything more?-leo asks, he was always a bit reserved,maybe quiet, but with a heart of gold.

The woman shakes her head.

-Im heading to see your mother, is she around?-

-Im afraid not, but she Will be soon enough , ill see you on thursday ms.pietro -

They exchange goodbyes as the englishman checks the supermaket list his mom left him before heading to work.

His steps are short and slow.

" ms.pietro's grandkid, jerico,...wait arent they the kid thats always on the swing on the local park?...Wait yeah!,they are" jerico was just like him, quiet, softspoken, humble and kind,but Something tells him that under all that kindness there is an iron Will" then it should be easy" he thinks.

Eventually thursday rolls around and now Leonard sits on the couch in ms.pietro's house, he is playing chess with jerico, the kid is Smart and playful,they always have a smug grin on their face.

He also finds them hilarious, they bring him something that he feels rarely.

Peace, and happiness.

Even tho they are temporary, the kid knows how to make people smile.

Wish he had Friends like that.

At around ten pm, miss pietro comes back with the kid's mother, Kina, he says goodbye and heads home,he still has to finish some Papers for the writing contest.

Contest that he couldnt attend because the goverment picked him as a sniper.

He had to go.

But before he enters the car that Will lead him to his New home, jerico arrived, with a plushie in the form of a cute chibi plaguedoctor.

-Mr Leonard!,before you go-jeri says out of breath, did...did they ran to get here?-their name is void!, they helped me trough rough times , And I think its time for them to help you too, if you have any problems just talkto them!, they Will answer-

Leo softly grabs the plushie and his eyes water, thats the cutest thing anybody had done for him, he hugs the kid.

-Stay safe,alright kid?-

-I will-

He nodds and enters the car.

-Farewell Leo!- he hears them say.

《◇》

Its been a couple of years after he left, now Leonard works as a mercenary, he often ponders about that kid, what are they up to?, hows their life going?.

He also still has the plushie they gave him,To this day, he diminished the comment about the plushie being able to talk as just imagination,even tho late at night,after a long day of work and complaining in his room he could hear the faint murmurs of words of reassurance coming from the Shelf where he left void on.

Its a cold winter morning in london, he walks the snowy sidewalk and enters his usual coffee shopp " Beans,bindweed And sunflower seeds", the ambient there is cozy,the strong but gentle smell of coffee makes his grumpy face a bit happier, the corners of his mouth lift up with a slight smile.

He orders and waits, his eyes catch a glance of a woman,black leather jacket,a little plaguedoctor painted ,and around the sleeves various patches and pins,some crows,sunflowers, dragons.

He mindlessly walks to his spot, and bumps into someone, its that same Lady from two second ago,luckily nothing is spilled.

-Oh my god im really sorry-the woman says, fixing her hair with an embarassed look.

-Its okay , dont worry-his tone is relaxed, with a hint of shyness.

But now that hes up close,there is something really familiar about her.

-Im sorry for the out of the blue question but, have we met before?,you look a lot like a kid I babysitted Back in Sydenham...-

The woman tries to solve the puzzle in her head,and then it clicks.

-No way, Leonard is that you?-

-Holy shit, yeah its me, hell, how much youve grown little jerico-

They talk and sit besides the Window.

-Man, youve grown into a beautiful woman-Leo says.

-Well, not quite woman,see I uh, im genderfluid, long story short I change my pronouns every now and the,its him today tho..-

Leonard quickly recomposes.

-Youve grown into a handsome Man -

Jerico smiles and his eyes spark.

They talk and chatter most of the morning, until the englishman is called to work.

-Tomorrow, same spot, six am then?-jeri asks.

-Yeah sure, ill also bring the little doll you gave me when I left-

-Holy shit, you still got that?-

-I wouldnt throw it away for nothing in the world-

Jerico Coos.

-Thats really cute-he says.

-they are well kept,washed and it still smells like vanilla-

-Thats adorable Leo, thanks for taking care of void that way-

-No need-Leo checks the time...fuck hes going to be late.

Jerico senses the distress and quickly grabs his motorcycle helmet .

-Need a ride?-

-Fuck yes, im going to be bloody late!-

Both speed to the little bridge that separates mercserv from the rest of london.

-here take my cellphone and call me if anything comes up, okay?- Leo says quickly scribbling his number in a spare pice of paper-Thanks for the ride-

-Dont mention it, now go-

Leonard nodds and runs trough the bridge.

Jeri turns the motorcycle around and drives yo his home.

《◇》

Jerico's face hit the pillow, its been a long and wonderful day, he looks over to the ceiling and grabs his phone.

《》

Leo☕

-Hey, wanna come over to my place and stay for dinner?

《》

It takes less than five minutes for Leo to answer.

' sure,im on my way'

Jeri quickly tidys up the place and just when he is done , Leonard rings the doorbell.

-Good evening jeri-he says entering the house with something behind his back.

-Hey Leo..., what do you have there?..-

-Oh nothing-the englishman says-just a little something very important to me- he shows him the little plushie.

-oh god , you actually brought it!,god I havent seen void in ages!-The other Man grabs the plaguedoctor plush and smiles,he hugs Leonard and smiles-Thank you Leo!-

-dont mention it-

They order food and set the table.

Suddenly a song comes in.

I met this girl and she drove me wild.

She looked at me and I looked and smile.

The cutest girl you could ever see.

I never thought she'd go out with me.

-Im in love! I just cant wait because tooonight I have a daate!-leonard chimes in and starts to sing.

Jerico smiles and looks at him ,he does have a good voice, and he is in synch with the song too,he swears he can see void dancing besides the fruit basket.

Both of them start to goof around and suddenly Leo has his back against the counter, jeri hovers above him and they are really close, the woman's hands are on either side of the counter, trapping the englishman's torso around them.

I never dream it would come to this.

She leans over and the Man closes the gap between them.

I drove her home and she gave me a kiss.

Im in love and its safe to say, she really wants to see me again.

They eventually pull apart and smile, the womans head snuggles into Leo's chest, he hugs her and chuckles.

The old feelings are coming back.

Peace and happiness.

Im in love,I just cant wait, because tonight I have a date.

I have a date!

Im in love, I just cant wait,becuase tonight I have a date.

The song finishes and the doorbell rings.

-Perfect timing!-

They kiss one more time and jerico goes and pays for the food.

Late at night both lay on the bed , the woman is atop of him,face resting on his chest.

-Im so in love with you -Leo mutters, half asleep.

-Me too...-jerico mumbles as they exchange one last loving look before falling asleep.

In between their hands, its the little plushie, who squeals when they see them cuddling.

'Mission accomplished!' Void thinks.

《◇》

-The end.

#romantic f/o #f/o x s/i #f/o community #f/o #self insert #my f/os #self ship #db vassili #dirty bomb #vassili #selfship #self shipping #selfshipping #selfshipp

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seeking-humanity · 6 years ago

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I am uncomfortable with forgetting

Each morning of fifth grade, I would visit each of my teachers from previous years. I would greet them by name, give them a big hug, and quite literally skip to the next one’s classrooms. This routine was a comforting way to start my day in a pleasant manner, and it was satisfying that I was able to make these five adults happy first thing in the morning.

We had a friendly contest my freshman year of high school to see who could name all of their previous teachers, kindergarten through 8th grade. The morning greetings to my old classrooms gave me a great advantage for the first six names. Though I did not continue the habit into middle school, the freshness of those memories lent me enough clarity to win the contest.

I can still name those first six names, though slower than I used to. Mrs. S, Mr. S, Miss E, Miss S, Mrs. W, and Mrs. F. Their faces are buried deep in my mind. I must remember what they taught me since I’ve nearly completed my senior year of college, but I can only pull a few especially distinct experiences from each of my elementary years.

Though my first years of school are recalled with a small amount of effort, I have almost no memory of my schedules in middle school. Granted, I had six to 12 teachers per year instead of only one and was developing in physical, social, and mental manners in leaps and bounds. Even so, it troubles me that the names of those who shaped my brain like a potter with clay are lost to me.

To widen the scope beyond those pillars of influence in my education, I often wonder what friends have faded from my thoughts. I was a happy child with the average amount of peers, yet as I have only stayed in touch with a few, I cannot remember who I played with at recess or when I got invited to my first sleepover.

Widening again, beyond people, I can’t remember what color my bedroom was in our California home. The name of the neighbor’s dog is lost to me. My first hot chocolate, trip to the movie theater, attempt to climb a tree. These pivotal moments that made me who I am are now nothing more than the influence they’ve had on me.

Worse yet, there is nothing I can do to slow this inevitable forgetting. As I once could perfectly picture my kindergarten classroom, I will also forget the layout of my first apartment. I will struggle to remember what my sister looked like before she dyed her hair or how the rain of my hometown felt on my skin when I walked out of the airport.

I am a believer in the philosophy that life is what you make of it. One cannot help themselves by moping and wishing for a better life. Still, I do not have to be happy about these small, unstoppable farewells.

Once, I attempted to make a record of all aspects of my life that I experienced and remembered. I hoped that if I could write it all down, I wouldn’t lose anything. There were a few problems with this attempt.

Like a phone camera at a concert, documentation of life gets in the way of living it. You cannot Instagram your cake and eat it, too. With the goal of exact remembering, I didn’t have time or energy to enjoy new experiences or seek out the opportunities that make life worth living.

Secondly, you can’t know what you will forget. It is impossible and, furthermore, impossibly frustrating to try to know. In writing a perfect description of our home, I etched it into my memory. Instead, I lost the evergreen trees in our backyard and the song that birds would perform from their branches.

Sister to this worry of mine is the instant fading of what our brain decides is meaningless information. When you walk into a cafe, the smell of fresh pastries and coffee hits you like a wave on sand. So strong, it’s impossible to miss or ignore. As you sit at one of the tables, the scent slowly fades as your nose adjusts to it’s consistency. You calibrate in an evolutionary effort to be ready to notice changes in your environment.

What did you have for lunch yesterday? The day before? The month before? Happiness is often found in these little moments, but as we stay consistently content, our bodies don’t keep the feeling as important information.

I am uncomfortable with this constant forgetting, but I also know that the perfect storage of everything that happens to me would be intolerable on a level that I’ll never truly understand. I reserve the right to wish for a world where it wasn’t necessary to compress our daily lives to a fraction of memories, but understand that it will never happen for my own good.

#personalessays

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berniesrevolution · 7 years ago

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In 2016, shortly before the EU referendum, Yanis Varoufakis warned that the UK was destined for a “Hotel California Brexit”: it could check out but it could never leave. The former Greek finance minister spoke from experience. In 2015, his efforts to end austerity – “fiscal waterboarding” – were thwarted by the EU (a struggle recorded in his memoir Adults in the Room: My Battle With Europe’s Deep Establishment).

Theresa May’s draft Brexit deal confirmed Varoufakis’s prophecy: the UK would be condemned to purgatory. With fortuitous timing, on the evening that May’s agreement was published, Varoufakis delivered an Oxford Union lecture on Europe’s future. The 57-year-old Marxist and game theorist wryly remarked that Conservative cabinet ministers praised his analysis in private.

“The UK should never have entered the negotiations,” he told me when we met afterwards. “You do not negotiate with the EU because the EU does not negotiate with you. It sends a bureaucrat, in this case it was Mr Barnier…they could have sent an android, or an algorithm.”

May’s fatal error, Varoufakis said, was to accept a two-phase negotiation: a divorce agreement followed by a new trade deal. “This was a declaration of war because Barnier said: ‘You will give us everything we want: money, people, Ireland. And only then will we discuss what you want.’ Well, that isn’t a negotiation, that’s a travesty. And Theresa May agreed to play along.”

But Varoufakis, who helped persuade Jeremy Corbyn to support Remain in 2016, has little sympathy for the “People’s Vote” movement. “It’s offensive. What was the first vote? Wasn’t it a people’s vote? To call it a people’s vote is to try and delegitimise the original vote – to say it was dictatorial, it was rigged.”

He added: “You have to explain two things: first, how are you going to get the referendum completed before the Article 50 period is over? Secondly, how can you have a binary choice between five or six options? Explain those things and I’m with you.”

Has the UK’s difficulties deterred other member states from leaving? “I never thought that the EU would disintegrate as a result of exits,” Varoufakis said. “It is fragmenting without any formal exits. You have Orbán [in Hungary] doing his own thing, the Polish government doing its own thing, the Italian government violating all the rules.” The EU could, he quipped, one day resemble the post-Soviet Commonwealth of Independent States (“I was in Moscow some time ago and noticed there was still an office”) – or, I suggested, the League of Nations.

Angela Merkel, Europe’s pre-eminent leader, has begun her long farewell. I asked Varoufakis how he viewed the liberal adulation of the German austerian. “I’m a dialectician: she has been a disaster and we’re going to miss her. She is a disaster because she squandered immense political capital that could have been used to reshape Europe. But we’re going to miss her because whatever comes next will be worse.”

Varoufakis is writing “political science fiction” but his main focus is the pan-continental Democracy in Europe Movement 2025 (DiEM25), which he founded in 2015 and which will contest next year’s European elections. Some, I noted, had dismissed it as a vanity project (albeit one with 75,000 members). “There are historic moments, moments of deep crisis when we need new movements,” Varoufakis countered. “The Labour Party emerged because the Liberals simply could not satisfy the needs of the working class in Britain. Similarly, I think that DiEM25 is necessary because nationally confined parties are simply not fit for purpose when our major crises – private debt, public debt, low investment and poverty – are like climate change, they’re common crises.”

He added: “It’s important to keep freedom of movement, we’re internationalists and we do not want to see borders. The idea that foreigners are a problem is a toxic idea and it’s completely wrong. I reject wholeheartedly the argument that no borders serves the interest of capital because migrants compete with the local working class. This is a pathetic argument, it’s wrong, that never happens. Migrants create jobs - in aggregate - they do not take jobs away.”

(Continue Reading)

#politics #the left #yanis varoufakis #new statesman

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petehparker · 7 years ago

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Little White Lies- Peter Parker x Reader

Prompt: imagine finding out Peter is Spider-Man because he was late to your date (or even missed it) for the third time and you’re so frustrated with him you tell him that you can’t do this anymore and he’s begging you to forgive him and understand and you’re like “Understand what Peter? What are you hiding from me?”

Word Count: 1165

A/N: if you enjoy the blog, please give a fellow blogger a hand and check out their blog! @marvel-ous-headcanons Written by Daisy. Please remember that I write Peter as if he is around 18-19 :) Gender Neutral Insert.

Your name: submit What is this?

You sit with your arms folded, fists clenched, checking the door every time it squeaked open, which at this point was completely useless.

“Seriously Peter, are you fucking kidding me,” you hiss to no one but yourself. You were fuming; angry and hurt. This was the third time he had stood you up for a date, usually citing Aunt May or Ned desperately needing his help, or staying late with Mr. Stark to finish a project. Always going on and on about how he was going to make it up to you; he never did.

You can barely stand to look the waitress in the eye, the young woman having circled by you for the fourth time. She gives you a pitiful look and you just shake your head, pathetically motioning at the empty seat before you. “I’m sorry honey,” she says as she removes the menus from the table.

You sigh, fumbling with your wallet to pay for your drink, but she stops you. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t want to get you in trouble. Only one of us can have a shitty night,” you comment, trying to joke to keep yourself from crying.

She insists, “Sure my boss will understand. You take care of yourself alright.”

You nod, slipping some bills on the table as a tip anyway, before wishing her farewell. You pull your coat tighter around yourself as you were met by the brisk New York air. You can feel the tears falling, and you desperately wipe them away, wanting nothing more than to be home. Two hours you had waited. Like a fool. A fool for a boy with disheveled hair and a crooked smile and too many lies.

You’re almost home when you feel the buzzing in your pocket. You don’t even have to look. You know who it is, and he’s the last person you want to talk to. You ignore it, unlocking your front door, mumbling a hello to your parents before heading upstairs. You change out of your clothes, tossing them aside and reaching for a pair of baggy pajamas and an oversized t-shirt. You stumble into your bathroom, brushing your teeth and washing your face, fully intending to go to sleep and forget this entire night had even happened.

You collapse atop the sheets, willing yourself not to start crying again. You tell yourself he isn’t worth crying over; how could he be if he was always so careless? Always completely unaware of your feelings-or maybe it was worse. Maybe he knew and just couldn’t be bothered to care.

You lay there, glaring at the ceiling light; too damn upset to fall asleep. Your staring contest was interrupted by a hard rapping on your bedroom window, a silhouette leaning up against the pane. You ignore him, turning on your side so your back was to the window.

“Y/N, please! Just let me in. I’m so so sorry.”

You don’t make any effort to move. But he doesn’t leave. He keeps knocking, pleading with you. The sound begins to irritate you to no end and you swear you would scream if you heard it one more time. And you do. You swing your legs over the side of the bed, bolting towards the window. Peter could see the fury and hurt in your eyes. Naturally, he felt like complete and utter shit.

You move the latch, sliding the window open and stepping aside, your arms crossed over your chest.

Peter slides through the frame, sporting a busted lip and a cut above his brow. Another thing he could never explain. He moves towards you, his eyes pleading with you, but you step back. “You’re not getting off easy Peter. You can’t just kiss it better. You tell me the truth or it’s over. I mean it.”

“Mr. Stark and I were-” You don’t let him finish.

“And I suppose he busted your lip?”

“Took a fall that’s all. I’m ok.”

It was clear you were getting nowhere with him. “I want the truth Peter. I am sick of your half-assed lies. I’m tired of being treated like an afterthought. I waited for two hours, Peter. Two hours! For the third time this month!”

“Y/N, you don’t understand. It’s not something I can tell you.” He knows how pathetic a response it is.

“No Peter I don’t understand! What could you possibly be doing every damn night? What are you hiding from me? Are you-,” you almost couldn’t bear to say it, “is there somebody else?”

“What? No, Y/N, no I would never do that to you. Don’t you know that?”

“Can you blame me for thinking it Peter? You’re not telling me anything!

“I want to! I do. I can’t. I just can’t.”

You let out a heavy sigh, shaking your head in disbelief. “Please just go. I can’t-I won’t do this anymore.”

Peter crosses the room then, his voice breaking as his hands find the sides of your face. “Please Y/N, you know me. I’m not telling you for your own sake.” He motions toward his face, “You’ll get hurt. They’d come for you to get to me.”

“Who Peter? What could you have possibly done to have pissed people off? Who’s hurting you?” Your voice is hardly above a whisper; your fingers ghost over his swollen lip.

He doesn’t say anything, his eyes pleading with you. Silently begging you to not make him say.

“You’ll lose me, Peter. I mean that. You can keep being afraid that something will happen to me, or I can make it easy. You choose.”

He nods, pulling you into his chest. “I love you Y/N.”

You thought he had made up his mind; thought he was saying his farewell. But when you separate, he doesn’t leave. He picks his backpack up off the floor, pulling out a wad of red fabric.

“Peter what are you-”

He reaches for your wrist, using his other hand to drop it in yours. Your heart drops when you see it. A mask; one you’d seen many times before.

The tears are falling freely now. The room seemed too small and the air too thick and your heart too heavy. For him. For the weight of the world he was carrying on his shoulders, for everyone he loved that he could never tell. Hardly an adult, yet responsible for so much.Too much.

You wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face in his chest, “I’m so sorry Peter.” That’s all you could say. Sorry. You must have repeated it a dozen times. Peter held you close, relieved but also terrified. “I won’t let anything happen to you. Promise.”

“I know.” Despite everything, you knew he meant those words.

“Can we have brunch instead of dinner dates?” You laugh at his comment, reveling in the feeling of him and the comfort he brought. Everything was ok. Even if just for a little while.

Taglist: (Message to be added)

@kawaiitickles @evenmyphonemissesyourcall94 @clean-and-claire

@manyfandomstohandle @tiny-friggin-human @anastasiaannaa

@1022bridgetp @dancingintheraine @raindancer2004

@clockworkballerina @blueberryprincess10 @maryxburns

@rosesnsleep @hmltntrsh51 @1dforeverandalwaysfan

@legendarycolors @madielizabethm15 @theweirdlunatic @the-hot-fangirl @paris-xz @hi-mishamigos @marvel-th

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deadcactuswalking · 2 years ago

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REVIEWING THE CHARTS EUROVISION SPECIAL: 20/05/2023 (+ Lil Durk/J. Cole & Ed Sheeran)

Content warning: Discussions of Israel-Palestine conflict, death/grieving and brief mentions of r*pe, homophobia and Drake

Welp... it’s a big one. Despite all of the movement and a hefty competition, “Miracle” by Calvin Harris and Ellie Goulding reigns for a sixth week. This’ll be fun to run through... welcome back to REVIEWING THE CHARTS!

Rundown

As always, we start with the notable dropouts and as you’d expect, there are a lot this week, mostly because we have 16 new songs to cover... which may be a record. What I consider notable dropouts are songs that exit the UK Top 75 – which is what I cover – after five weeks in the region or a peak in the top 40, which means we say farewell to “Scrap the Monarchy” by The Krown Jewelz, “Favela” by Nines featuring J. Styles, “Boat” by Ed Sheeran, “Alone” by Kim Petras and Nicki Minaj, “Make Me” by Borai and Denham Audio, “Peaches” by Jack Black, “Here” by Tom Grennan, “Snooze” by SZA, “Us Against the World” by Strandz, “Players” by Coi Leray, both “Mother” and “Made You Look” by Meghan Trainor (not her best week), “Pointless” by Lewis Capaldi and of course, some of the long-time bottom-feeders – “Afraid to Feel” by LF SYSTEM, “Another Love” by Tom Odell and finally, “Mr. Brightside” by The Killers, because of course.

It’s a busy week... yet somehow, Lewis Capaldi’s “Someone You Loved” found time to return. 16 new arrivals and we have “Someone You Loved” at #75... the UK Singles Chart, everyone. We also have a ton of other random re-entries, like “CUFF IT” by Beyoncé after her tour announcement – it previously peaked at #5 – as well as “Creep” by Radiohead getting a Guardians of the Galaxy-related surge to #41 (it peaked at #7 in 1993, and Thom Yorke is right about it – it sucks). As for our notable gains... I mean, we did see some boosts for “Waffle House” by the Jonas Brothers at #37, “MATHEMATICAL DISRESPECT” by Lil Mabu at #27... this is all terrible news. Outside of that, we have “Dancing is Healing” by Rudimental, Vibe Chemistry and Charlotte Plank at #23, “Dog Days are Over” by Florence + the Machine at #21, “Giving Me” by Jazzy at #14 and Mae Muller copping her first top 10 with “I Wrote a Song” at #9 after a particularly bad closing performance at the You-Know-What contest.

The top five on this week’s UK Singles Chart consists of a mix of your standard, expected tracks from past weeks and at least one surprise. We have “Wish You the Best” by Lewis Capaldi at #5, “Eyes Closed” by Ed Sheeran at #4, “Daylight” by David Kushner at #3, “Tattoo” by Loreen at #2 – we’ll get to that soon, don’t worry – and of course, “Miracle” at the very top. Now to cover the big story I haven’t been mentioning by name:

Eurovision Song Contest 2023

This year’s Eurovision Song Contest broadcast included a video presented by Bjorn Ulvaeus of ABBA that bragged about the recent success Eurovision acts had been having on the charts, which we saw ourselves on this show – if I can call it that – with Maneskin, “Arcade”, “SNAP”, and I’m sure I’m missing some. Eurovision songs always appear on the chart if they do well, but prolonged success is rare and the streaming success as of recent is pretty good for the contest’s longevity. Of course, Eurovision was hosted in Liverpool – on behalf of Ukraine – this year, so there was a lot more buzz about the final in the UK than usual, with me myself getting back into the hype for this year. I did enjoy it, for the record – I don’t do Eurovision reviews because a lot of it ends up in the top 75 the week after but if I did, I’d be pretty positive since I liked the minimalism of some of the staging, especially the more inventive or sparse-looking performances, as well as appreciating a lot of the songs. My favourites were Luke Black from Serbia and Slovenia’s Joker Out, but they did not get far in the competition or on Spotify at least in the UK, so we’ll have some of the lesser songs – but at least not any of the dull ballads – debuting here instead, and since I did it last year I may as well cover them separately once again. As with the new songs, the numbers represent the debut position and I’ll note which country the song is representing instead of the production credit – but don’t worry, I’ll weave them into the review as with last year. Oh, and I’ll keep the #2 debut for last just like Sam Ryder for consistency’s sake; Loreen will not be in this section. As for who will be, well...

#63 – “Because of You” – Gustaph

REPRESENTING: Belgium

Landing at the seventh spot in the song contest is Belgian singer Gustaph, who self-produced this cute little dance-pop track alongside Willem Vanderstichele – awesome name. Cribbing from Jamiroquai’s fondness for both big hats and funky beats, we have a groovy house track on our hands wherein Gustaph honestly carries himself as a diva over an infectious synth bass and more generic house production that sounds as 90s as it could possibly sound. It’s a love song where Gustaph carries on because of his partner, and whilst the drop doesn’t do much justice to the celebratory tone of the song in my opinion, it has really grown on me due to the live performance, which was fantastic, and the notable anti-homophobia undertones are obviously going to resonate in the current... LGBTQ hellscape in the western world. It’s a defiant song that makes up for its shortcomings in pure charisma – I wish there was more to it, but that final crescendo with the fizzling percussion and strings does a whole lot to sell me on it. It’s a song that’s absolutely fit for the burst of energy format that Eurovision tends to allow for.

#56 – “Solo” – BLANKA

REPRESENTING: Poland (controversially)

Yeah, there were some issues surrounding this one. Apparently, there were accusations of rigged votes due to connections the jury had with BLANKA... and I hope 19th place was worth the corruption, guys. It’s not like the end result of it, produced by Tribbs and Maciej Puchalski, is all that good. You wouldn’t be able to tell a Pole made it considering the generic European pop sound reliant on a reggae-esque beat that somehow gets stiffer the more percussion is added, sounding like a modern version of Ace of Base that nobody asked for. BLANKA celebrates how she’s better off without this partner, and I don’t really care because she doesn’t sound like she does either, with the entire song sounding as processed as possible. Eurovision is at its worst when it’s boring, and BLANKA absolutely was, with the performance being just as dull as the song is. BLANKA even released extra remixes – and this is not like Ukraine, wherein TVORCHI released an original mix and a Eurovision mix (the song – and especially the genius performance – were great, by the way, and it’s a shame it did not chart). No, it has a nightcore version, several producer-led remixes (they’re both cheap garbage but the Audiosouls slap house remix kind of works for what it is), a live acoustic version that does her pronunciation absolutely no favours and a Goddamn Christmas version. It adds jingle bells. Next.

#48 – “Who the Hell is Edgar?” – TEYA and SELENA

REPRESENTING: Austria

I guess we had to be on a strictly first-name basis with the entrants this year, and despite coming 15th with a surprisingly minimal and drab performance, I at least like the song’s conceit. It’s about ghostwriting, and takes a pretty comical approach with the two suddenly having this hit song on their hands, being possessed by the ghost of Edgar Allen Poe because... of course, and ending up not being able to pay rent still despite the song’s popularity, making a point about how little artists get royalties-wise from streaming services. It makes a decent point and is pretty goofy doing so, making little cute references to the business side of the industry... though that may be why the juries were unwilling to give it the time of day. With that said, it’s an alright song, though it’s kind of soured on me – the warping synths, staccato bass and rollicking guitars in the verses are great, but it doesn’t entirely mesh once we get to the hypnotic chorus, especially with the bass distracting from the hypnotism of it if anything. In fact, it gets a little too bombastic for me especially with the choir interludes and some of the delivery feeling a bit noxious, but that’s kind of expected with this goofy premise. It’s alright, but not one of the Eurovision tracks from this year that I come back to often.

#45 – “Unicorn” – Noa Kirel

REPRESENTING: Israel

You know, to an extent, Eurovision is about representing countries and their public image. This has always been necessary for Europe, as we have committed some of the worst crimes against humanity known to, well, humanity, and to be seen as fun-loving and progressive is just what we want to look like in the face of growing discontent and awareness of the bloodied history of these nations thanks to the war in Ukraine. Produced by Yinon Yahel and placing third, this song tells the story of Israel, and whilst Kirel has said it represents harnessing the feminine power of the unicorn and that she’s promoting “togetherness”, don’t be fooled: she’s lovey-dovey with President Herzog, and this song is a bitter, bitter version of the story of Israel sang by someone who didn’t get the memo that Kesha wasn’t being 100% serious. Kirel dismisses believing in old stories – which, for someone with family that survived the Holocaust, you’d think she’d be more open to hearing – calling them “fairytales” whilst making references to her DNA and professing the “independent” power of Israel amidst other people “calling them names”, with an extra touch of condescension to, you know, native people fighting for their freedom? She does the whole patronising motivational aspect, which could come off okay if she weren’t representing Israel – say what you want about what the song truly means and it’s going to mean a lot of different things to a lot of different people (which is great!) but to me, this is sly propaganda written off as a girl-power anthem. When the continued oppression and murder is ongoing, current and brainwashed into Israelis in their youth, it’s hard to compare it to a motivational song from many of these other countries that are not so explicitly murderous, especially due to how pissy and defensive this is lyrically. To make it this danceable and kitsch is just the genocidal cherry on top of the cake of ethnic cleansing. Screw this song, free Palestine, and let’s move on.

#10 – “Queen of Kings” – Alessandra

REPRESENTING: Norway

I mean, if we’re getting political still, there are some Queens and Kings here in England I wouldn’t mind to see gone. This song placed fifth and is the first top 10 hit by Alessandra, the part-Italian singer, alongside production from Henning Olerud and Stanley Fernandez, who I think are the main issues here. I did think the performance was completely fine, if a bit disappointing, but this girl-power anthem is not about genocide – thank God – but instead is kind of a Game of Thrones escapist fantasy acting as a release for the struggle that it was for Alessandra to grow up bisexual in Italy. It’s not immediately obvious in the lyrics but it’s Eurovision – it’s usually AGAP (as gay as possible). Her breathy belting is impressive and rapid, even if it didn’t translate that well live, but I don’t like the dramatic swell of this, mostly since it feels really cheap and over-produced, which really muddies Alessandra’s performance: she just has no space here, especially with the bass at the front of the mix that gives it a nauseating, headache-inducing feel that shreds it of a lot of its genuinely promising elements. It’s a shame because the high note is impressive and the song is catchy as sin, but the first of our Eurovision top 10s doesn’t impress me that much. At least it’s better than Mae Muller, and with this, her and Loreen, as well as the next song, we actually have four Eurovision songs simultaneously in the top 10, showing an unexpectedly large impact for the contest this year. Oh, and by the way, I’m sure you know but “I Wrote a Song” placed 25th... hey, it could have been worse. We could have been Germany.

#6 – “Cha Cha Cha” – Kaarija

REPRESENTING: Finland

Now this one is probably our strangest: as expected, the vast majority of the charting Eurovision tracks are 90% to 100% in English, but this one is by a formerly practically unknown rapper whose vocals are solely in Finnish. Whilst it came second overall, it won the televote and there were a lot of fans in the audience that night, I imagine partly because of how over-the-top and outwardly quirky it all is. It was a rather populist track in that regard, and I’m not surprised that despite its inaccessibility, it’s in the top 10... and it’s not just the language: it’s really out there. Produced by Aleksi Nurmi and Ki-RO, I wouldn’t be all too surprised to hear 100 gecs over this, combining hypnotising bass and intimidating techno rhythms with a creepily layered vocal in between a perking siren that eventually takes us headfirst into a dance-rock jam, with a charismatic chant vocal Keith Flint would be proud to hear still near the top of the charts. I have no idea what the song is about and I don’t think I’m supposed to: the “cha cha cha” is there to make sure I don’t need to care, and the guitars smash into the mix to ensure the only important element of the song shines: it goes hard. It goes intensely hard... and then it goes really 100 gecs on us and turns into a full-on trance song, still using the “cha cha cha” motif but otherwise ditching the chorus for a completely new one and it’s just Goddamn brilliant. With an utterly seamless transition, Kaarija’s yell dampens into an Auto-Tuned croon fit for 90s bubblegum dance, and every flash of synth has so much colour over the still pulsating dance beat that you almost forget this is one song until the crowd cheering comes in like this is “Zombie Nation” and a soaring guitar leads us into the final refrain. It’s adorable, it’s aggressive, it’s bizarre and honestly, with the ending callback to the original hook and siren loop, it’s kind of genius. Of course it won the televote, and whilst it wasn’t my favourite, it absolutely deserved to win the contest as a whole. We’ll get to the true winner after a not-so-brief interruption from songs that may actually last.

NEW ARRIVALS

#72 – “Real Back in Style” – Potter Payper

Produced by Jason Julian and Kyle Evans

Potter Payper was blocked by Ed Sheeran for the #1 on this week’s albums chart, with the album of the same name as this track debuting at #2, which is still his highest peak yet. I’ve never really been impressed by Mr. Payper, but his guest verse from last week was alright so I had some hopes for this and honestly, it’s not bad at all. The filtered gospel choir-sounding vocal sample is pretty airy with how it’s edited and it leads to a levitating foundation which fits Mr. Payper’s yelling delivery since it makes him stand out even more as he makes his entrance before the pounding drums come in and he finds his pocket a bit more tightly. The rhyme schemes are pretty good, with a flubbed rhyme actually being used for tension purposes, which is a sick decision, and the soaring chipmunk vocal behind the hard military-esque drums is a nice touch too. Sadly, he focuses from Recovery-era Eminem melodrama syndrome with an unnecessary, cheap-sounding electric guitar but it’s not that distracting when Mr. Payper is going so hard delivery-wise. He’s barely adding much groove or rhythm as much as he’s just yelling into the clouds about his life, and it’s kind of endearing due to the sheer passion. The beat switch could have been pulled off a bit better – the build-up feels a bit too long for what is essentially just a trap beat, and not one that goes consistently hard either. It sounds like Mr. Payper wrote and rapped over a beat with no drums and the producers just jumped the percussion in afterwards. With that said, the second beat is where Potter gets the most profound – if he hadn’t been placed in prison and mistreated by police, if he didn’t get involved in drug trafficking, if he wasn’t impoverished, he wouldn’t be able to receive the praise and success he does now... and that’s a sad existence when laid out as explicitly as it is here. Maybe this guy really is improving, though it may take another single for me to really be convinced to check out that album. Regardless, I’m impressed it charted. Speaking of album cuts charting, however...

#71 – “Satellite” – Harry Styles

Produced by Tyler Johnson and Kid Harpoon

We’re basically a year on from the release of Harry’s House and man, I still think it’s pretty terrible. I don’t like this one at all but it’s probably one of the better tracks, and now it’s got a video, it barely made its way here. Maybe it’s grown on me? I mean, no, it really hasn’t. It’s the track I want to like the most, with its progressive electronic swirl at the start furthered by Styles’ ambient humming, but the cosmic sparseness of it doesn’t allow for Harry to actually dive in as much as he clearly wants to. He feels a bit unambiguous to his own instrumental, which may fit due to the song being about him orbiting, just waiting for his love interest to bring him in... but then why does it have a corny dance beat in the chorus? Why is there a pitch-shifted post-chorus interlude that only plays once before being a distracting layer of some of the lines in the chorus? That chorus never changes like I feel like it should – it’s one of those songs that demands a bit of a narrative switch but it’s constantly stuck in flux, adding nothing of interest except for a brief crash of guitars that sounds great, especially with the distant reverb on Harry’s voice and the soaring synths, but it really is too little too late and there’s something about the guitars combined with a continued unchanging chorus that prevents it from ever feeling cathartic. I would have preferred it maybe go into a half-time breakdown or you know, he finally gets the girl, making more of a moment of the song instead of flindering off into nothingness, but I guess that would mean it doesn’t fit into the numb void of Harry’s House. If he played into it more with the songwriting, maybe it’d actually be interesting.

#70 – “TMO (Turn Me On)” – Luude and Bru-C featuring Kevin Lyttle

Produced by Chase & Status and Luude

...What? Were we really in need for a remix of “Turn Me On” by Kevin Lyttle by the “Down Under” guy with vocals from... Bru-C of all people? Why aren’t Chase & Status credited but the sample is? For what it’s worth, I really like the original. If I ignore the backing vocals from a BTEC Sean Paul, I can get into Lyttle’s unique falsetto that makes the song feel really cute, especially with the upbeat dancehall rhythm and extra synth inflections added by RedOne. It’s additionally VERY catchy, and has not left my head since it peaked at #2 in 2003 – he was blocked by Sugababes, which was a surprise to me. I assumed this had got to have gone #1, but alas, here we have Luude, Bru-C and Chase & Status taking the song to a new generation of listeners and is the remix any good? To be fair, Luude tried his best to make sure the general vibe – even if not genre – was replicated, with an uncredited emcee hyping up the track before it starts, and the dancehall rhythm being replicated with breakbeat stabs... and Goddamn it, it’s really good and I have no idea how to feel about that. It doesn’t do much to the original other than changing the sound – in convention, it’s very similar, with rubbery synth glitches reflecting the jerkier synth strings in the original. That’s probably for the best in this case, as making this any darker would completely ruin the naive, fun-loving spirit Lyttle has, and Bru-C’s “desperately trying to be cool” cadence fits perfectly, especially with a slicker-than-usual rhyme scheme and flow that sounds pretty sick over the pulsating drum and bass beat. This song is one that absolutely knows its intentions and completely succeeds with flying colours. It didn’t really exceed my expectations but... it’s a drum and bass remix of “Turn Me On” by Kevin Lyttle, what should even BE my expectations?

#69 – “hotline” (Edit) – Billie Eilish

Produced by FINNEAS

This is a one-minute cover of “Hotline Bling” by Drake. There is a full version of the cover, which was recorded in 2018, and released on her SoundCloud as well as a physical single, but she noticed it going viral on TikTok and released this tiny edit of it onto streaming services. You can barely tell that it’s a cover, given its acoustic guitars and her whispered delivery that phases into the cloudy production... and uh, that’s kind of it. I don’t like the original song because it’s a tad whiny, and Eilish’s version definitely isn’t but I don’t get much obvious emotion from it at all. This is essentially just a nicely-produced snippet of an acoustic instrumental that features barely audible Drake lyrics in the background, and it sounds like it would make a good background track for a scene in a particularly pastoral film set in a forest, or a dream sequence. That’s probably more analysis than this tiny snippet will ever have. I like the sound, though, and if Billie’s going this direction with the next album and this re-release is a reflection of it – I wouldn’t put it past her to include this on it – I’m pretty excited for what might be next.

#66 – “Area Codes” – Kali

Produced by Tate Kobang and YG! Beats

Ludacris’ “Area Codes” featuring Nate Dogg is a classic, lighthearted jam that sadly never charted in the UK. It has Luda’s signature brash fun and carefree bars alongside Nate’s rich voice dripping in untouched swag and charisma. It’s full of hooks, and I recommend you hear it if you like this interpretation by Kali, a rapper who I know (and liked) from XXL but have otherwise heard not much else from. I expected a more fun, swaggering track reminiscent of the funky R&B hook of the original, but this is such a bare snap track wherein Kali’s rapid whispering is at the front of the mix as she raps about taking advantage of all these men she’s with. The minimal, eerie nature of the beat alongside the soaring sound effects in the back allow for it to sound really dark, and it’s a shame that Kali doesn’t fully play into that, as I’d prefer it to fully give in to the evil seductress vibe implied by the laughing and flow than keep in this awkward middle stage. This is especially an issue with the song’s length, as it just kind of flounders off into an instrumental... which doesn’t serve much of a purpose when there’s practically nothing to said instrumental. This is far from bad, and I’m pretty impressed by Kali’s presence here, especially on the call-and-response chorus where she throws in that her hoes might even include your dad, but I’m not fully on board because there just isn’t much here.

#53 – “Side Effects” – Becky Hill and Lewis Thompson

Produced by Jon Shave and Lewis Thompson

Man, I’m not even close to finishing this episode, am I? Well, at least the charts are somewhat making it easy – I can’t say much about one-minute snippets or really even Becky Hill tracks. This sounds like any of her others for the most part but there is an interestingly darker tinge to this that would be interesting... but the flashier swell and the sing-songy chorus kind of ruins that vibe for me. Becky actually fits very well on darker production here, so I’m pretty disappointed they didn’t go that route fully, as again, I’d like her to play the villain more – framing it as a moving on or breakup song is just less compelling and less fitting production-wise than going into full cheating, regretless one-night stand mode. With all of that said, this song is still very much functional, and Lewis Thompson’s production has enough quirky sound effects to differentiate it slightly from the typical slap house, with the vocaloid drop being a tad more ethereal helping with this quite a bit. Also ever since I mentioned them in the “TMO (Turn Me On)” review, Sugababes must be on the mind because the chorus of this song, even just the first line, immediately reminded me of their version of “Freak Like Me”. Honestly, Becky Hill could kill that. Now that’s a cover I want to hear more than one minute of.

#35 – “Mountain” – Sam Ryder

Produced by Jimbo Barry, Lewis Allen and Sam Ryder

During the performance at Eurovision, Sam Ryder brought out Roger Taylor of Queen. A legend, of course, he deserved to be there and he was even given a little camera pan and acknowledgement by aging homosexual Graham Norton. He played drums on this song. That was it. Ryder didn’t come out and cover a Queen song, which is beyond me since when I think about British music, Queen is one of the first acts to cross my mind. Roger Taylor was just... there. He doesn’t even play drums on the official version, so that felt like a massive wasted potential. Regardless, the performance raked up some sales for this song and I’ve not been diagnosed with narcolepsy so it’s clearly not my fault that I immediately felt the urge to fall fast asleep when I pressed play on this one, right? Ryder has a nice voice but this song has no weight or grit to it, just a whole lot of fake handclaps and a surprisingly weak chorus when it comes to a recognisable melody. It just feels very staccato and also very reminiscent of Katy Perry’s “Roar” which had that exact same problem. There’s an instrumental break that consists of a single drum fill and what sounds like the start of a guitar solo... before it just creeps below the final chorus in the mix. If I were to soundtrack an advert for cars that I didn’t actually want anyone to buy since I kind of liked having them, and I’m not going to make much of a profit anyway since they’re not great-looking or designed by expensive companies, they’re just kind of middle-of-the-road cars that couldn’t be afforded by the average person but also is below the price range of the kind of person who would flex a car collection, so I’m just kind of showing off the cars in well-shot ads that clearly cost a lot to produce so I should probably try and sell the cars, but there’s not much of a demographic for them anyway so it might be cheaper to keep them since I rented this sent to film so I definitely have the space at least for now, and Hell, I might be able to coerce the person who owns the property I used to film the semi-professional-looking car adverts to take at least two off of my hands for his troubles... this is my first choice.

#29 – “Life Goes On” – Ed Sheeran

Produced by Aaron Dessner

I have still yet to hear – (Subtract) in full, but this seems to the post-album release single Ed is pushing, considering it has the video and a duet version with Luke Combs. Sadly, Combs isn’t credited here, but this folkish tune was in his wheelhouse before he was on it. The song is an acoustic ballad about the death of his friend and entrepreneur Jamal Edwards. He says that he wanted the world to stop like it did for the Queen and he got some of that comfort through the traditional “Nine Night” custom where for eight nights, friends and family gather for drinks and recollection of memories they have with the deceased. The ninth night is a party to commemorate their life and acknowledge that things have to go back to normal, but Ed struggles with this idea, because it hit him so heavily initially that he can’t bring himself to do anything but sink and sulk. He continues the weather theme that’s present in some of the other singles and you can hear a lot of the raw emotion in Ed’s great vocals here, and since it’s mostly acoustic, he really shines, with a lot of the moments of swell seeming borderline sarcastic considering how he’s convinced himself that life must go on. The bridge leading into the final chorus is a really crushing moment and as someone who is still processing a very important loss, this hit me really hard. It’s a beautiful tribute whilst also serving as Ed passionately taking a grip on his own grieving process, which is very difficult to do, and because of how personal it is, I think the Luke Combs version, which take the same lyrics, doesn’t serve the song much purpose, even if I love his vocals as always on here. It just means a lot more to hear it from just Ed.

#17 – “All My Life” – Lil Durk featuring J. Cole

Produced by Dr. Luke

Sigh, one thing I really hate about J. Cole is his blistering ignorance of issues that don’t directly affect him. You can’t be a conscious rapper and be spitting on beats produced by rapists, Jermaine, and that same vitriol goes to any rapper who won’t admit their imperfections on wax. That’s why it’s particularly annoying that he’s present on this song about Durk actively trying to improve himself, with a motivational chorus led by a children’s choir (which rarely ever works and doesn’t here under the weak trap beat) and a verse that shows how despite some of the blame being on the system, and rightfully so, he’s going through a lot of his own trials to get himself out of the violence he had become so accustomed to. It’s a great verse, with the difficulty of keeping the balance reflected in the varying cadences that go from mellow, muted melodic snippets and nasal, unabashed yelling, as well as his crooning about how a lot of the problems are inherent and internal – he’s not trying to preach, he’s using this to remind himself more than anything. So why is J. Cole here? He’s flexing, mostly against other rappers which just feels misguided when half of the verse is about a murdered rapper he admits he’d never heard of until he died, then getting rightfully upset at the media for publicising it and attracting fake hype just because he was the victim of a murder. Without many specifics or any interesting imagery, he’s essentially saying nothing about this societal issue whilst attracting all of the issues towards his own orbit; it’s all about him, and how he’s above all of that, despite the fact that he continues to use weapons as imagery when describing how much better he is than all these reckless, clueless rappers. To have this holier-than-thou verse after Durk’s honest one about how he lived that life and it’s a difficult mental process to get out of it is completely tone-deaf, and the fact that he really isn’t showing much technical skill or even a good flow here makes it even more bitter. The hook was growing on me by the end as well, and the melancholy Rod Wave-esque beat is not bad at all... so piss off, Cole, find worse songs to ruin. This could have been good.

#2 – “Tattoo” – Loreen

REPRESENTING: Sweden

Produced by Jimmy Jansson, Peter Bostrom and Thomas G:son

FINALLY! Oh, my God, finally, this week is over. Let’s just get this 16th song over with – sorry if it’s anti-climactic but for a Eurovision-winning song, it feels more like jury bait than anything all that interesting. I like the filtered synths but both the 80s synthpop pastiche context and 2010s EDM sound are very much done to death nowadays, so the song feels more like placing two clichés together than actually playing with them all that much. The performance and staging was excellent, however, and Loreen looked and sounded as excellent as she does on record if not even rawer and more powerful. The song itself is Loreen fighting through a troubled relationship and the claustrophobia that could set in from that tension is definitely there, especially in the orchestrated breakdown, but it just doesn’t click with me, especially due to the abrupt ending. It’s her first top 10 since she last won Eurovision in 2012 in Baku with “Euphoria”, which means she’s only the second singer to win Eurovision twice after Johnny Logan from Ireland, which ALSO means Loreen is the highest-charting non-UK Eurovision winner since Mr. Logan. Sweden tired the Irish for the most wins in the contest with seven and bam! – there’s your chart stats, you got my opinion, you got the background. It’s a song review speedrun.

Conclusion

Fittingly for a week with 16 songs it was kind of a mixed bag, though one thing I found they had in common was a lack of things to say... which is a saving grace because again, 16 songs. As for what I give out at the end, well, Ed’s done it again. Sheeran gets Best of the Week for the second week in a row for “Life Goes On”, though a close Honourable Mention goes to “Cha Cha Cha” by Kaarija. As for the worst, it’s a shame but Eurovision kind of dominates. That J. Cole pissed me off but not nearly to the extent that Noa Kirel does so “Unicorn” grabs Worst of the Week – it’s not a political cop-out if the genocide’s in the lyrics – and I think Sam Ryder gets the Dishonourable Mention for “Mountain”. I talked about cars for the vast majority of that review, and I barely know anything about cars. As for what’s on the horizon, I really don’t expect the Eurovision stuff to stick around outside of maybe Loreen and hopefully Kaarija, so I imagine it would be a similar free-for-all next week... though especially with less songs. Please, Britain? I have a life to live. Regardless, thank you for reading – if you were able to make it this far – and I’ll see you next week!

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