#This is immaculate op you draw him so well :’)

[animebw]

So the live action One Piece is really, really good.

I know, far from the first person to say it. But it really must be stressed how absolutely bonkers it is that One Piece, of all anime properties, is what breaks the live-action adaptation curse in the West. So many attempts at adapting far more live-action friendly stories like Death Note and Cowboy Bebop ended up complete disasters, and yet it's perhaps the most unabashedly cartoonish anime franchise, the one defined by how it takes advantage of drawing and animation to portray people, places and things that would be completely unfeasable in the real world, that shows how to translate this medium to live action without losing what makes it special in the first place. It's not a perfect adaptation, but it pretty much nails everything it needs to, capturing the heart of this story in all its most important moments and making smart changes that serve its new form as a binge-worthy Netflix drop. So let's talk about the things I liked, the few areas I think it fell short, and how I think future seasons should play out! Spoilers, obviously.

The Good:

-The most important thing to get right was the casting, and they nailed it: all the Straw Hats and their supporting cast are just about perfect. Inaki Godoy just is Luffy, Emily Rudd does a fantastic job shouldering the season's core emotional weight as Nami, Vincent Regan steals the show every time Garp is on screen, and Jeff Ward is an absolute riot as Buggy. Special shout-out as well to Morgan Davies for nailing Koby's expanded screen time.

-Speaking of, I love how Koby and Helmeppo's title-card story is fleshed out into a proper B-plot throughout this season. Following their journey under Garp's command is a perfect way to introduce us to the Navy's inner workings and the more explicitly political side of the story up front, as well as foreshadowing plenty of future story beats to come.

-The action. Is. So. Good. Thank god we're finally remembering how to film proper hand-to-hand brawls, cause every punch-up is a blast to watch.

-Luffy actually has more of an arc here than he does in the manga! Manga Luffy can be a pretty static character a lot of the time, which I know is kind of his appeal, but this adaptation gives him a bit more to work with as he grapples with the responsibility of being a captain and the consequences his mistakes can have for his crew.

-Seriously Buggy is so fucking funny they nailed him so perfectly

-Putting more of a focus on Nami's struggles throughout the season was a great way to give it more structure for a binge format. Her emotional journey is really the heart of this adaptation as we watch her go from a paraniod recluse to fully embracing the Straw Hats as her new family.

-One benefit to being live action and produced in America? Way, way less casual sexism. Dare I hope that future seasons will avoid ruining Sanji's character among other pitfalls Oda fell into? Fingers crossed!

-The production design is immaculate. It strikes the perfect balance between the wacky cartoonishness of One Piece's world and the demands of filming in live action.

-Fantastic soundtrack too! It knows just where to deploy instrumental renditions of We Are while charting its own musical identity.

The Bad

-Some of the dialogue is a liiiiiiittle cringey? I know dialogue has never been OP's strongest suit, but there are definitely a few moments that feel overly anachronistic and "how do you do fellow kids?" There's a moment Buggy jokes about toxic fandom that really made me roll my eyes (especially since the OP fandom has by and large really embraced this adaptation, so it comes off like a cheap shot at a demographic of haters that doesn't even really exist).

-While the camerawork and editing are pretty great, the color grading is very much... not. Can we please stop shooting everything in boring desaturated yellows and greys and start lighting our night scenes so we can actually see what's going on?

-Shockingly, it's the strongest parts from the manga- the backstories- that I feel suffered the most here. Some of that's due to most of the child actors not being that great, which, well, that's a risk you take with child actors. But it also cuts out a lot of the personal culpability that made a lot of those backstories so compelling? Like how Sanji used to be pretty wasteful with food until his experience stranded on an island taught him how important it was to respect every bite? That aspect of his character is completely missing in his flashback here.

-Hoo boy, they made some... choices with how they depicted Arlong's crew. I know the Fishmen are a big racism/discrimination metaphor, but between the trap music that plays whenever they show up, their overall "urban gangsta" fashion aesthetic and the design of Arlong Park, the fact Arlong himself is played by a black actor... there is some coding going on here, is my point. And considering how much I hated the direction this story arc went in Fishman Island, that does not give me confidence in this adaptation's ability to escape sucking just as much on that front.

Future Season Wish List:

Season 2: The Alabasta saga, starting with the arrival at Roguetown and ending with Vivi's send-off

Season 3: The Water Seven saga, maybe with a brief stop in Skypiea beforehand but not long enough to get bogged down in there like the manga did

Season 4: Possibly controversial, but I think this should take us to the timeskip. Spend an episode or two in Thriller Bark but cut out all the bullshit, one episode in Sabaody for the Shit Gets Real(tm) section, one episode in Amazon Lily, then onto Impel Down and the Marineford showdown, with one episode dedicated to the fallout of that battle and getting us to the timeskip.

Season 5: Big focus here should be Dressrosa IMO. If you must spend some time in Fishman Island then do it, probably don't need that much time in Punk Hazard since barely anything happens there, then get into the thick of Dressrosa.

Season 6: This should be the Wano season. One episode in Zou, maybe a couple in Whole Cake Island to set up Big Mom, (honestly we might not even need the extra Sanji backstory if this adaptation gets rid of his worst traits), then get straight into Wano so you have all the time you need for all those moving parts. Also, Gear 5 Luffy in live-action should just be him turning into his anime self Roger Rabbit style. Tell me that wouldn't rule.

[xamaxenta]

What are all your favorite op ships? And what ones are hard no?

Honestly I ship all of the WBP with Ace excluding Pops (And Teach but honestly man was never a WBP anyway the traitor!!!)

But yea MarcoAce is my number one for sure I just need to figure out how to draw Marco consistently and then we gucci - MarcoAce is 👌🏽 hits that spot for me, the older more mature one hesitating in falling in love but the younger one Ace chasing them pursuing them actively

Like the whole firecracker chasing the old bird? LOVE IT!!!!!

Big fan of LawLu and CobyLu both are veeeery cute anything with Luffy is automatically super cute

Also Corazon and Bellemere for happier modern Aus ❤️ they are cuties bc I love Nami Nojiko and Law and Lami being siblings

ThatchIzou theyre the longest relationship on the moby, married and everything and Ace goes to them for advice on Marco and how to ask him out awwua ThatchIzou is the sexy couple ok i love em

NamiVivi as well like Nami the cat burglar has a PRINCESS wife? The vibes are immaculate here such a powercouple

Ofc FrankyRobin/Frobin i love that funky cyborg man and his equally funky archaeologist wife, they’re that couple you envy for being so adorable and in sync

Deuce/Ace is a new one for me one I didnt expect because Deuce didn’t really appeal to me, Until I drew him and oh man I got it bad for Deuce now and I think they would be very SHY together like first love holding hands and BLUSHING BECAUSE ITS SO LEWD

SanjiZoro (yes) you read that right, I think zoro is a bottom bitch and sanji tops - purely for the fact I like changing the norms up with super popular pairings like them - Sanji gets to feel more idk in control? Like I personally feel Sanji would struggle with loving a man and all the toxic masculinity stuff he cornered himself into, bottom sanji isnt a bad thing and i like the fight he always goes through in letting zoro take control but YOU KNOW WHAT they switch I like healthy zosan sanzo whatever ignore what i was trying to say lol - Omega Zoro tho sets me on fire i love it so much

UsoppSanji - very cute ok I think they are like a basket of kittens - although ZoroSanjiUsopp is UH GREAT??? Usopp thinking he’s not good enough but these two bearing down on their sniper king like YEAH YOURE HOT AF BRO its very bromancy but they also hold hands together and kiss USOPP HAS TWO HANDS

But also Usopp and Kaya is just sweetness

Aaaand uh SengokuGarp (listen IF DRAGON EXISTS I KNOW GARP HAD A LADY BUT SENGOKUGARP IS FUN)

Some pleasure ships that I’m not embarrassed about and love very much haha:

Shanks/Ace, Rayleigh/Ace, Jinbe/Ace, Sabo/Ace or specifically Marco/Sabo/Ace

-

Not for Me ships

Smoker and Ace, i get it I Really do it so be like that but :/// idk I’ve never been very into Smoker, My gf is obssessed with him🤣 maybe im having lingering hard feelings bc he steals my girl everytime he shows up…. Im kidding Smoker just aint it not when MARCO EXISTS HELLo??? (I also think post time skip Smoker is ugly, his pre timeskip design is wayyyy better)

Sanji Ace - again i totally see the appeal, I also love the idea of all the strawhats having a crush on Ace but thats it just a crush - idk I can’t see Sanji doing one night stands or long distance relationships - he seems like the kind of guy who needs daily affection, love and affirmations and Ace can’t give that to him imo, i think theyre cute and compatible but because of Sanjis nature i dont see it working out, and I dont like long distance relationships due to originally trying so hard in one myself and basically getting neglected (im not saying im projecting but Sanji probably would feel the same, not that Ace is neglectful but it takes time to send letters and travel to see each other on the grandline) - SO TLDR; definitely cute but not for me

- Hard no ships - I dont really have any? Love is love and love what you love haha but I gotta say

Anything with Teach - is he even paired with anyone?

Doflamingo with either Cora or Law is frankly upsetting - he’s a horrible person and I can’t personally see how he’s attractive, he’s repulsive and seeing noncon stuff with him and Law or Crocodile etc is gross

[colorful-horses]

💐 ?

💐 - who’s your favourite mlp blog?

I don't know if I have a Single favorite blogger, so heres a list of some of my absolute favorite pony bloggers:

🎨 MLP Art Blogs

@cassettepony - Such a unique art style. Cannot stress enough how unique her art style is! It's very stylistic and the colors are POPPIN- they're so saturated and pretty! Her art reminds me of jolly ranchers,, I also absolutely love the exaggerated expressions and how she draws EYES (when the corner of the mouth slightly clips over the bottom of the eye.........immaculate) + She does something really special that I never see any other pony artists doing, which is giving the ponies little chin hairs or 5 o'clock shadows (I. i don't know what it's called please forgive me). It is so special and cool to see, and it's so recognizable! I ADORE Cassettes art and I've always been too shy to say hi so uhhh. Hi! 👋

@msponies - ponies drawn in mspaint. HIGH QUALITY posts here. I am so inspired by their use of colors- the RANGE in some of these posts is crazy. Some of these drawings have such extremely unique color combos that you wouldn't think would work so well together, but msponies is just a master at using a color palette to its full potential its actually crazy! Their Trixie drawings are some of the best, and I cant help but admire how bold their backgrounds are (yea I know that kinda goes hand in hand with the whole color palette thing but i just really like their art); the bold colors and the dark outlines are so scrumptious

@celebrationcastle - They don't update extremely often, but when they do, you kno its gonna be a top tier post. They have a very flexible artstyle, and they post fanart for every generation. They were the ones who made that Valentines Pinkie Pie design that popped off a while ago, and for good reason; they are extremely good at drawing and designing. Like, they've completely mastered the artstyle of g3 and g4 (and probably every other gen. its nuts), and their g5 fanarts art probably my favorite I've ever seen (sunny starscout, my beloved). Everything they post is a banger. Their blog is just such a big inspiration to me :,)

📖 General MLP Blogs

@yodawgiheardyoulikeponies - absolute FAVORITE pony collecting blog. OP is SO sweet and her collection is AMAZING! I absolutely adore her photos and her posts, and her enthusiasm about collecting is so infectious. The positive energy on her blog is absolutely pure sugar, and I just really cannot stress enough how much effort she puts into her posts. She makes little pony photo shoots! And makes little stories out of them!!! It's so fun to just sit and read through. I always check her blog after new merch is released just because it's it's interesting to read about a Pony Veteran giving their input on modern toys. 1000/10 I love this blog

@ahorseofeverycolor - I only have notifications on for like. 5 or 6 blogs? And this is definitely one of them. They regularly post about ponies and horses (okay, they mostly focus on Breyers, but thats not a negative to me at all- I got my first Breyer the other day BECAUSE of this blog, lol), and their blog is just so clean and organized! They post about so many different kinds of ponies, whether it be comparing flat-footed release to concave foot releases, or custom ponies they made themselves, or just really cool pony finds that aren't necessarily obtainable (prototypes, special custom ponies commissioned by hasbro by professional artists, etc) but are really cool to look at!!! I really like this blog!!!

@mustcollecthorses - This is a blog that I have a super bad habit of opening and then scrolling through for like. 2 hours straight, lol. It's a mix of reblogs and original posts, so it's really my Ideal pony blog; usually when I hear about pony news, it's because he reblogged it! It's a very focused blog, so it's definitely a good one to follow if you need some more horses on your dash! He recently made an edit of Hitch from the new 5 pack to give him brushable hair, which I absolutely love (why did they gotta give him sculpted hair umu) I also like that OP leaves tags on the posts he reblogs! I don't know if it's just me, but I always like a blog more if they add tags with input about the toys and news and things like that. It adds some personality and a Vibe to the blog and I just really like it!!!

ok thats all! i of course follow a bunch of other pony themed blogs, but those are some of my top favorites, and ill limit it to 3 per category for the sake of simplicity. please consider following them! They're all so cool and talented!!!

--

send me pony themed asks

[lifeofkaze]

A Very Hexley Birthday

A/N: Seeing all those beautiful edits on my dash for the birthday of my favourite twins in the Potterverse (I said what I said), I knew I couldn't possibly do any better. So instead, let's have a look what Ethel and Jim are up to on their birthday, shall we?

This is for you, Bestie! @the-al-chemist

Happy Birthday, Jim and Ethel! 💛❤️

Naturally, Ethel and Jim Hexley and Héloïse Perrault belong to my favourite person in this world @the-al-chemist. The attending guests belong to @slytherindisaster (Lysander Mercury), @kc-and-oc (Siobhan Llewellyn, Bradford Pendleton, Oliver and Eliot Gerard, Ivy Anders), @hogwartsmysteryho (Vinny Raymond), @that-scouse-wizard (Cledwyn Ironwood), @cursebreakerfarrier (Galen Stagg), and @unfortunate-arrow (Anthony Rosen).

Even though the golden arrows of the September sun were showing themselves on the enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Jeremiah Hexley was in a rather glum mood when he reached for the huge bowl of porridge at the Hufflepuff House table.

It was just out of his reach and his fingertips only grazed the rim; he simply would have needed to stand up to get it, but that would only draw attention to the tall, lankish boy, which was something he generally tried to avoid, but especially so today. So Jim sat straight again and reached for a slice of toast instead.

“I wish you the finest of mornings,” he heard a voice call out to him, “isn’t it a wonderful day outside? You should have seen the colours of the sunrise; no one can paint anything as beautiful as that.”

The voice belonged to Lysander Mercury, another Hufflepuff boy from his year, and undoubtedly Jim’s best friend. He had a spring in his step as he walked up to Jim, and his thumbs were hooked under the straps of his suspenders; he hadn’t bothered putting the black jumper of their school uniform over them yet.

He sat down opposite Jim with a graceful motion, grabbing the porridge bowl in the same instance and pushing it over to Jim. Giving Lysander a grateful look, Jim helped himself to a healthy portion and drizzled a teaspoon full of dark golden honey on top, just the way he liked it. But even the prospect of his favourite breakfast wasn’t enough to lighten Jim’s mood, and it wasn’t lost on Lysander.

“Why such a long face, old fellow?” he grinned, and his stress on the word ‘old’ wasn’t lost on Jim, quite the contrary. “It’s not a day to be brooding!”

Jim opened his mouth to explain himself, but was interrupted by the sound of quick footsteps approaching from behind him; a moment later two pairs of arms were flung around his neck and Jim almost knocked over his bowl of porridge in his attempt to not be thrown off the bench.

“Happy Birthday, Jim!” two girls shouted into his ears in perfect unison, of course they did. The sound of their excitement cut through Jim’s eardrums and he winced as he pushed them away.

“Uhm, thank you,” he muttered, “Happy Birthday to you as well,” he said in the direction of the smaller of the two.

Ethel Hexley, his twin sister and complete opposite and in every aspect imaginable, grinned and clapped Jim on his back so hard he almost lurched forward. “Thanks, kiddo. One more year of making sure my little brother has at least some fun in his life.”

“Like a proper big sister should,” her best friend Selene Fraser added with a knowing nod. Not even the Sorting Hat had been able to separate these two, and sometimes Jim wondered who out of them three actually were the twin siblings.

“But, er, you know Effy’s only older by a few minutes... so she isn’t really my big sister, if you want to put it that way…”

Jim trailed off when he saw something whisk past him into the direction of the porridge bowl. Before he had the chance to dive straight into it though, Lysander had already gotten hold of the brown and white ferret Ethel and Selene shared custody of; Alan’s nose twitched as Lysander held him out to Ethel.

“Take your ferret back, Hexley,” he said, “I’d say you two are looking like the actual twins here, but seeing as it’s unfortunately your birthday as well, I’ll let it pass. Consider this my present.”

“Seeing as Alan definitely is the best looking guy I’ve spoken to today, I’ll take that as a compliment, Mercury,” Ethel immediately shot back, with that unmistakable glint in her eyes that Jim knew promised nothing but bother, very wordy bother.

Lysander had already leaned slightly forward as well, his eyes fixed on Jim’s twin sister, ready for their morning round of bickering and Jim sighed.

“Could you two, uhm… maybe, just maybe… perhaps stop it? Just for today?”

“Leave him, Effy, he’s not worth it. Not a match for you anyway,” Selene muttered to her best friend; Jim gave her a grateful look.

“True, Sels, I won’t have my birthday spoiled by a wanna-be artist in suspenders,” Ethel said indignantly, and Lysander opened his mouth in protest. Selene elbowed Ethel into the side, before setting Alan onto her shoulder and linking arms with her, quickly pulling her away before things would escalate. Again.

Selene turned around after a few steps and called over her shoulder. “Come to the Quidditch pitch after classes, Jim, will you? We have a little surprise for you!”

*

Throughout the whole day, Jim wasn’t sure what made him more uncomfortable: all the attention he got because it was his birthday, or the prospect of a surprise set up for him by Ethel and Selene. The sheer idea of everything these two could have been planning was enough to upset Jim’s stomach and he couldn’t even enjoy his favourite roast beef for lunch.

When their last class of the day was over, Jim reluctantly made his may over to the Quidditch pitch, as he had been told to. He had wanted to ask Lysander to come, but then again, bringing Ethel and Lysander into the same space was too much for him today; or any day, to be precise.

As soon as he stepped through the opening in the wooden perimeter of the pitch, he raised his eyebrows in surprise. Ethel and Selene had laid out several red and white chequered picnic blankets in the middle of the immaculate green lawn, just like the ones their parents had at home. He could see baskets full of sandwiches, little cakes, fruit and cheese on every single one of them, alongside countless jugs of pumpkin juice.

Naturally, Ethel and Selene were standing in the midst of the people already gathered there, laughing and joking and having a wonderful time, and Jim’s heart sank a little. He saw many familiar faces; he saw Siobhan Llewellyn and her best friend Galen Stagg, who were feeding slices of roast beef to a very content looking Alan; he saw Oliver Gerard who was laughing with Ethel about a lively story she was telling; he had brought his brother, Eliot, a Ravenclaw boy Jim didn’t really know, and who was looking very comfortable talking to Selene, who was standing next to Ivy Anders and Vinny Raymond were sharing some cake; he could even spy the eternally grumpy Cledwyn Ironwood, who never got tired of proclaiming he wasn’t Ethel’s friend but, just like Jim, had obviously stood no chance in declining the invitation.

All of these people were there, but all of them were Ethel’s friends, not his. Jim sighed; he knew Ethel and Selene had meant well, but they just didn’t understand him, they never really did.

“I ‘ope we aren’t late, non?”

Upon hearing the familiar French accent, Jim’s heart skipped a beat before beating doubly as fast as before. He turned around and his eyes went wide when he saw the group of people who had quietly come up behind him.

“Bon anniversaire, Jim!” Héloïse swept in and quickly kissed him on both cheeks in close succession, before pushing an immaculately wrapped gift into his hands, the edges of the paper sharp and the bow perfectly tied. Jim tried to thank her but his words came out as a horrible stutter and he felt the heat rise to his face; it felt particularly warm where Héloïse had kissed him.

Next up came his dear friend Bradford, who shared his enthusiasm for painting; he extended his hand to Jim to wish him a happy birthday as well, and the gift he was handing over to him felt suspiciously like the elaborate sketchbook Jim had seen on his last trip to Hogsmeade.

His roommate Anthony was there, too, as always accompanied by his wolfhound Conall. Jim bent down to pet the animal and scratch his ears. He had to smile when he saw how enthusiastic Conall was at the prospect of all the attention; at least one of them was, then.

Even Lysander had been invited, or had in any case decided to show up; you never knew with Ethel and him. But whether he had actually been asked to be here or not, Jim was glad to see him.

By Brady’s side, more quiet than the rest, stood Brady’s friend - or at least that’s what they claimed to be - Carolyn Nyberg. Jim was surprised to see her here; he and Carolyn didn’t really have anything in common but Brady, but then again, they were seldomly seen without each other these days. She inclined her head and quietly congratulated him.

The question as to why Carolyn had come, though, was quickly answered when Ethel spotted the new arrivals and bounded over to them. “It’s so good you came! I’m so happy all of you could make it to our birthday picnic. Most of you, that is,” she said with a pointed look in Lysander’s direction, but before he could shoot back, her attention had already shifted to Carolyn.

“Did you manage to make what we talked about?”

Jim could see Carolyn was trying hard not to roll her eyes. “Please, who do you take me for? That was a child’s play.”

Brady gave her a pointed look. “Be nice, Caro, it’s their birthday.”

She sighed, but her face softened and she reached into the hidden pocket in her dress, producing a small, stoppered vial with purple liquid inside. She weighed it in her hands, looking at the mugs of pumpkin juice on the picnic blankets. “I’d say six drops per mug should be sufficient.” She moved the vial out of Ethel’s reach when she extended her hand towards it. “Not one drop more, you hear me?”

“Loud and clear.”

Jim’s apprehension about Ethel putting a potion into their drinks soon vanished when he saw what it was that Carolyn had brewed on his sister’s request. After drinking from the modified juice, everyone of their guests had a distinct spring to their step that made them jump a little every time they moved. He remembered how much fun Ethel and Selene had had when they had turned the floor of the courtyard elastic with the Spongify charm; it had gotten them three weeks worth of detention and a passion for jumping as high as they possibly could.

Not being particularly keen on moving around like a bouncing ball, Jim had only taken the tiniest sip of pumpkin juice when Ethel had offered it to him; it was enough to give his step a tolerable spring, but not enough to make him bounce like the others, and that was just the way Jim preferred it to be.

Jim usually didn’t feel comfortable among so many people, but he had to give Ethel that, even he was enjoying himself. He watched Héloïse and Selene sharing excited whispers about the latest story of the Muggle detective they were so keen about, while Brady was bickering with Siobhan over one thing or the other, and Lysander was busy trying to place Alan on top of Carolyn’s head, who told him very sternly to stop it if he didn’t want a swig of Veritaserum served with his next meal.

Happy that his and Ethel’s friends seemed to be having a good time, Jim sat down on one of the blankets, partly because he wanted to eat something, and partly because he needed a step back from the hustle and bustle.

It wasn’t long, however, before Ethel spotted him. She walked over to him, jumping into the air with each step, and slumped down onto the blanket beside him.

“Aren’t you enjoying yourself?” she wanted to know. For a very brief moment, concern flickered over her freckled face. “Because I did my very best to make this fun for both of us. Look, I even invited that horrible friend of yours,” she said and pulled a face in Lysander’s direction; he stuck his tongue out at her in response before turning away.

“No, uhm, I just needed a short break,” Jim answered and set down his plate. “You, er… you did a great job, Effy, you know? I’m having fun, I think… It’s a lovely birthday party, really… so thank you. I, uhm, I didn’t expect this, to be honest.”

“But why?” Ethel asked; she looked truly baffled at his words.

“We’re just so… uhm, how do I say it… we’re just so different, you and I. I’m quiet and, er, shy, I guess and you’re so… loud and popular and we’re just not much alike.”

Ethel dipped her head back and laughed loudly. “I’m not popular, Jim,” she sniggered, “I just don’t leave people alone. Tell them you’re friends often enough and they end up believing it,” she grinned and waved to Cledwyn, who rolled his eyes and looked away. “There’s nothing more to it than that. I bet you could do it, too.”

But Jim shook his head. “I’m not really so sure of that... I think.”

Ethel nudged him into the side with her shoulder. “Give yourself more credit. You’re my twin brother after all, that has to account for something. If this is any help, we may be polar opposites, but you’re still my favourite person in this world.”

“Uhm, what about Selene?”

Ethel pursed her lips. “Okay, maybe it’s a tie.”

Jim had to smile at that. Remembering something, he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a piece of parchment, tied to a scroll with a crimson piece of ribbon.

“Happy Birthday, Effy,” he said, for once without a stutter.

Ethel’s eyes went wide when she saw the picture Jim had drawn for her. It showed the two of them, laughing with each other. Ethel, despite being smaller than Jim, had his head in a headlock and was ruffling his hair while he was trying to escape, but he was laughing just as much as she was. The drawn versions of themselves were moving over the parchment in fluent motions. Jim had asked for Héloïse’s help with enchanting it; with his French still being awful, it had been one of the most awkward and complicated conversations in his entire life.

“It’s beautiful, Jim, thank you,” she said and flung her arms around his neck. When she let go, she looked a little sheepish. “Now I feel stupid for what I got you, although I’m pretty sure you can need it.”

With a wink, she produced her own gift. Jim could see she had wrapped it in her typical Ethel-style, with way too much wrapping paper and loads of colourful ribbons; one of them looking suspiciously like the hair tie their grandmother had gotten Ethel for Christmas. He blushed deeply when he read the cover of the small red book the parcel contained:

101 Foolproof Ways to a French Witch’s Heart - A Guide for Modern Gentlemen

“Effy… that… um… you… why…” Jim stuttered, his face a deeper shade of red than the Gryffindor banners hanging from the wooden tower behind Ethel.

His twin sister only sniggered. “Read it and thank me later.”

She got to her feet and pulled Jim along, motioning to the entrance of the pitch, where Selene was in the process of levitating a giant birthday cake onto the field. It had enchanted lion and badger figurines on top; the lion was throwing tiny pieces of cake after the badger, who caught it with its mouth.

“Come on now, dear brother,” she said as she linked arms with him and half marched, half dragged him across the lawn towards their friends. “We have a cake to cut.”

[long-live-fandom]

I see someone draw draco with sectumsempra scars on his face. It's haunted me so I draw it too. So thank you op and I'm sorry, I don't remember youre credit, but I will edit if I found you again 🙏

And I write a little to go with my fanart. English is 'it my first language so beware.

- 🐍 -

If Harry was being honest, Draco Malfoy was handsome. A cold type. Even his despicable personality was sometime subdue by his pretty face. Well, until he speak if you asked Harry. But nobody were asking Harry when he saw him without glamor for the first time on their eight year.

At first he was shocked. One second Malfoy's face was just fine and the next one there was scars on it. Their were deep and not completely heal. Harry did not understand and Malfoy just looked at him with his bored grey eyes until Pansy gave Draco an horrified glare.

"Don't look, Potter!" she barked at him.

Malfoy's hands flew to his face to hide it.

"Fuck" he whispered and "Their are showing, aren't there?" he said with distress.

"Who did this to you, Malfoy?!"

Harry was feeling angry. Does Malfoy was bullied this bad even after the trial?

"Guess it, Potter" Malfoy snaped with an ugly smirk.

The realisation hit him hard. Bathroom. Tears. Wand. An unknown spell. Blood. A lot of blood. Too much blood. That was him. He wounded Malfoy like Voldemort wounded him. He wanted to fly away. And wanted to touch. He wanted to said sorry but something in Draco expression did not allowed him.

After a moment, Malfoy had let his hands reveal his face again. An immaculate one. But now, Harry knew. And nothing will be the same.

- 🌩 -

[insidethegiftbasket]

Nationals (12-15) at Yankees (16-15)

Note From Evan: Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, jabronis and jabronettes, and Yankee fans of all ilk, Sam and I are here to let you know that we now have a third contributor here at Inside the Gift Basket, and this is his first post. Everyone say hi to Julio and from now on you’ll have to bring on more cupcake to class to share with everyone. And with that, onto the good stuff.

Game 1: Friday at 7:05pm EDT on YES and MLBN – Jameson Taillon (1-2, 5.24 ERA) vs. Patrick Corbin (1-3, 8.10 ERA)

Game 2: Saturday at 1:05pm EDT on YES and MLBN – Corey Kluber (2-2, 3.03 ERA) vs. Max Scherzer (2-2, 2.54 ERA)

Game 3: Sunday at 1:05pm EDT on YES and MLBN – Domingo German (2-2, 4.32 ERA) vs. Joe Ross (2-2, 4.39 ERA)

Nationals Injury Report

SP Stephen Strasburg: 10-day IL (shoulder inflammation) – will miss series

RP Wander Suero: 10-day IL (oblique strain) – both he and Strasburg will throw in a simulated game Friday

RP Seth Romero: day-to-day (ribs) – will begin throwing next week

LF Juan Soto: day-to-day (shoulder strain) – should get some at-bats this series, may start at DH

Nationals Pitching

Strong starting pitching was a hallmark of the Nationals during their run of eight straight winning seasons from 2012 to 2019, culminating in a World Series victory the final year of the streak. While their core ace trio of Max Scherzer, Stephen Strasburg, and Patrick Corbin remains intact, only Scherzer of the three has continued to see success in 2020 and 2021, and the starting rotation as a whole has struggled, posting a 4.67 ERA (23rd in MLB). Strasburg has barely pitched as he has been plagued by injuries over the last year and a half.

Clay, NY native and childhood Yankees fan Patrick Corbin will pitch the opener opposite Taillon. In 2018 and 2019 Corbin was one of the better pitchers in baseball, finishing 5th and 11th respectively in the NL Cy Young Award race those years while frustrating batters with his trademark tailing-away slider. To say he suffered a World Series hangover may be an understatement:

What has gone wrong for Corbin? Even he and Nationals manager Davey Martinez aren’t sure as it doesn’t appear to be a physical or mechanical issue, and his velocity is close to the same as in his 2018-2019 peak.

There are a few possible explanations. One is that he’s lost some spin on his slider (from 2398 rpm in 2019 to 2218 rpm in 2021), and it has gone from one of the best single pitches in the game to basically league average, with opposing batters just not chasing it like they used to:

This means that Corbin has fallen behind on counts more than in the past, forcing him to go over the heart of the plate with his sinker to get strikes, and that pitch has been absolutely destroyed this year. It wasn’t a particularly great pitch for him in the past, either, but this year hitters are just teeing off on it (1.091 SLG).

Corbin is not striking guys out like he used to and is giving up hard-hit fly balls at an alarming rate. The average launch angle against his pitches has risen to a career-high 14.7° in 2021, and subsequently he has already allowed 7 home runs in just 23.1 IP. For the sake of comparison, he allowed 15 HR in all of 2018 (200 IP).

There are some encouraging signs as he has looked better lately after a cataclysmic start. He allowed 16 ER in 6.1 IP to the Dodgers and Diamondbacks in his first two starts of the season but has pitched to a 3.18 ERA in three starts (17 IP) since. He hasn’t exactly faced red-hot offenses in that span (Mets, Cardinals, Marlins), and the underlying numbers are still not all that great, but it’s progress.

Max Scherzer will pitch the second game in what could be a very good duel with the surging Corey Kluber. Now in his age 36 season, Scherzer is continuing to put up excellent numbers, and like in recent years, the key to beating him is the long ball. He has allowed a measly 27 hits all year in 39 innings pitched, but 7 of the hits have been homers. He doesn’t walk guys, so the Yankees’ best bet against him is to try to barrel up his occasional mistakes and knock them out of the park.

The finale pits RHP Joe Ross against Domingo German, with both pitchers posting remarkably similar numbers so far this season:

Rather like Corbin, however, Ross’ numbers are inflated by one very bad performance (10 ER allowed to the Cardinals on April 19), and he has pitched well outside of that game. Ross has been a mediocre pitcher most of his career, though, so it’s not like these numbers aren’t indicative of what to expect from him. His slider is his definitive put-away pitch (responsible for 15 of his 21 strikeouts), but his other offerings have been hit hard. He also has a strong platoon split (vs RHH: .241/.287/.394, vs. LHH: .297/.376/.474), so expect the Yankees to give most of their available lefty hitters a start in the series finale.

While the rotation has been disappointing, the Nationals’ pen has been a strength for the team in the early going. Washington relievers own a league-best .185 batting average against, admittedly aided by one of the better defenses in the league (league-leading 24 DRS), and offseason acquisition Brad Hand has been a stabilizing force at the back of games, having yet to allow an earned run this year.

Daniel Hudson, Austin Voth, Sam Clay, and Wander Suero (who is likely going to miss this series) have all posted solid numbers behind him, and their most-used reliever, Kyle Finnegan, threw an immaculate inning in their just-completed series with the Braves. Ex-Astro Will Harris was recently activated off the IL and has very good career numbers, though the Yankees have hit him well historically.

The one major blip is Tanner Rainey, who was one of their most important relievers the last two years but has struggled mightily so far this season. He is likely to be limited to low-leverage action until he gets his act together.

Nationals Lineup

A consistently strong offensive team during their 2010’s run, peaking in 2017 when they led the NL in team OPS, the Nationals have had to weather the departure of important contributors like Bryce Harper and Anthony Rendon in recent years. While they still have a few dependably great hitters in the lineup, their offensive output in 2021 has been, at best, mediocre:

As a team they get a lot of hits (for 2021 standards, anyway), as their .247 batting average somehow actually leads the National League. However, they rarely draw walks and have not hit for power so far this year (outside of Trea Turner), resulting in a poor .696 team OPS and a marked difficulty putting up runs – they have yet to score more than 7 runs in any game this season and have been shut out five times. They are coming off a three-game sweep at home at the hands of the Braves in which they only scored six runs.

With Juan Soto battling a shoulder injury, Trea Turner has been their most important and all-around best position player:

While his numbers are a bit down from an outstanding 2020 (163 OPS+) that saw him finish 7th in the NL MVP race, he hits the ball hard to all fields, runs like the wind, and is a plus defender at shortstop. He has been a top 20 player in baseball this year in both bWAR and fWAR.

Antoher bright spot has been Josh Harrison, who signed with the Nationals as a reclamation project after seemingly forgetting how to hit sometime between 2018 and 2019; he has just about revived his career and been one of the team’s best hitters. The same cannot be said for his longtime Pirates teammate Josh Bell, who has been a nonfactor at the plate. While the Nats have been giving him (and the also-struggling Kyle Schwarber) plenty of opportunities to snap out of it, expect them to give more playing time to the hot-hitting Ryan Zimmerman at first base moving forward.

Lastly, keep an eye out for young phenom Juan Soto – he just came off the IL from a shoulder injury and pinch-hit a few times in the Braves series. According to the Nationals, he is ready to start hitting every day, but they are reluctant to let him play the field as his shoulder is not yet fully recovered and he should not be making throws. Luckily for them they are playing in an AL park this weekend, so he may get some starts at DH against the Yankees (which is, of course, bad news for us).

Yankees focus on: Wandy Peralta

LHP “Magic” Wandy Peralta came over from San Francisco (along with a PTBNL) in exchange for beloved backup OF Mike Tauchman, much to the chagrin of certain Yankees fans. Now in his 6th season, the 29 year-old Peralta has, on the surface, been largely unremarkable as a major leaguer to date, with a career 4.66 ERA and 1.477 WHIP. While he is coming off a solid 2020 in which he posted a career-best 3.29 ERA, he struggled to start this season in San Francisco and fell out of Gabe Kapler’s Circle of Trust™.

The raw numbers don’t jump out at you, but clearly the Yankees viewed Peralta as an interesting piece if they were willing to go so far as to part with Tauchman for him. After a bit of digging, it’s not hard to see why they found him appealing:

The underlying metrics have been impressive. In fact, his stuff has looked much better so far this year than it did in 2020, despite posting better standard stats last year.

It may be a microscopic sample size, but Peralta has looked promising in his first few appearances with the Yankees. The coaching staff has encouraged him to spam his wipeout changeup, to great effect:

While he has lost command of the changeup at times earlier in his career, it’s an incredible pitch when he’s throwing it well. So far this season: xBA of .109, xSLG of .133, and a -3 launch angle.

Last year his slider was a very good pitch, but this year it hasn’t been as effective, thus the Yankees have responded by ramping up his changeup usage and cutting back on the slider. In an ideal world, Peralta can learn to use them both effectively to pair with his plus heater. The raw stuff is there, and it always has been; the hope is that the Yankees’ coaching staff can get Peralta to harness his talent and potential.

With Tauchman playing well in San Francisco to this point and providing much-needed support for their banged-up outfield, this could be a trade that proves to be a win-win for both teams involved.

[fourrarri]

He’d never thought himself much good at giving gifts. At least not the traditional way. A general non-interest in materialism and a fondness for practicality that grew with his age having made a habit for him of gift giving at random to address a need rather than wait for any specific occasion. Not something that anyone ever seemed to mind but had always caused him a prickle of disquiet in him when it came to birthdays, or christmas. Anytime he was left floundering for gift ideas really. Especially when the occasion for gift giving was someone near & dear to his heart & well within means to buy whatever they wanted much less needed.

Still, he’d always loved a challenge, and Lance. . . Well, the hitman was nothing if not that no? And so much more besides, as he’d been delighted to find in the time he’d gotten to know the man thus far. Knowledge he’d put to proper use making the birthday boy’s gifts over the last month. Gifts that not only fullfilled Joel’s fondness for practicality but that he hoped would meet the other’s fondness for aesthetic beauty as well. 

But perhaps above all, he hoped they’d translate how much he appreciated what Lance had been willing to share of himself with him. His openess. His history. How very genuine he always was in any response he gave him. Joel wanted to honor that. Show him somehow beyond words that he’d heard him, that he cared. That he was glad to know him. Who he’d been, was now, and if Lance was keen, who he’d become.

“I uhh--, made each of your gifts myself. Well, mostly. I didn’t actually make the packaging on these first two, just what’s inside em.”

The first of the gifts was a bottled set of massage oils. Each one had a color scheme of preserved blossoms to indicate the essential oil he’d picked for fragrance. Flowers that he’d picked himself either having found them while hiking or from various flowershops. The florals he’d then dyed, dried, arranged, glued, and set inside each bottle before adding the oils. 

It was no secret that Lance not only enjoyed attention, but absolutely thrived on it. Had made it clear on a handful of occasions that he was not above demanding it, loudly. Or turning into a complete bratling when it wasn’t given to him for longer than he had patience to wait. Lance also liked to touch, to be touched. And if Joel had thought to indulge himself his fondness for ‘taking care’ whilst gifting the man something that encouraged lavish amounts of pampering and focus all on him, well. He rather doubted the other would have issue with it.

“These are massage oils infused with aloe and other essential oils for skin care and fragrance. Should come in handy the next time the sun toasts ya a bit more than you meant. Or when you’re feeling neglected.”

The second wasn’t any less playful or indulgent. They were at a glance a bit of an inside joke, one that only a very small handful of people would probaly ‘get’ if what Lance had told him was anything to go by for how many people knew how he really made money. The gift was a set of lip balms he’d made with a mix of beeswax, shea butter, vaseline, and jojoba oil. Each one had been carefully colored with a combination of powder made out of the leftover blossoms, and food coloring to add tint to them along with their protective and restorative properties. 

The set itself was shaded from translucent to various nudes that ranged from natural pink to warmer spice hues. When adding the tint, he had paused, idly wondering if the addition of color to the balms would be too feminine a detail for Lance’s taste. A thought that had gone as fast as it’d come when he recalled the man’s new habit of painting his nails. How much value he placed in his appearence, how little he placed in social norms, how he was seemingly content to enjoy what he liked and not question it beyond that. How very fond he was of Lance for it.

His favorite part of this particualr gift however, was that the case for each one was a hollowed out, reforged, and repurposed rifle cartridge. This detail had probably been what’d taken the most work on his part but in the end he was more than pleased with the results, was certain Lance would be to, as evident in the smile curving his lips as he spoke.

“All that drinking and sunshine dries out your lips chéri. These should help with that, keep you kissable. Some of them are tinted to if you’re feeling flirty.”

The last was the only gift that he’d actually bothered to wrap. To hide. He’d wrapped it meticulously, kept the corners pristine. The paper was ocean blue, patterned with metallic designs. Tied with gold ribbon, topped in an immaculate bow. Inside was a simple white box, and below the lid, buried within more blue, delicate tissue paper was a driftwood picture frame. The frame scaled perfectly for the sketch portraying a memory Lance had described to him in detail from his childhood and coupled with his recall for the one picture Lance had, that he’d shown him upon asking. A picture of him in his boyhood and his mother.

The sketch had taken the whole day. Had been born from a deep rooted desire to somehow give Lance something of that day beyond what he held in his memory. To replicate the warmth he’d had in his tone when he’d spoken of Marianna, described her for him, how she’d been more of a mama to him than the one who’d actually given him life for the most part. 

A fact that the man himself had seemed content with upon it’s revealing but had cracked open something hot and hurting inside his throat, in his chest. Something that felt like tears. Was tears. Tears he’d furiously blinked away, turned his face & hid when Lance seemed to nearly notice. Had fallen free once home and he’d contemplated how his friend had learned to normalize loneliness. Normalize family being something you acted out for company and performed rather than actually had. Normalize not having any pictures of them in your home for everything family photos were meant to be and never had been for him. 

He hadn’t thought about it. Simply grabbed his sketch book, sat on the chaise in the corner of his living room, just beside the french doors that led out to his porch. The same ones that allowed sunlight in enough to warm him as he worked.

He’d let his hand skate across the page, pencil loose in his fingers, slowly, slowly, the shape of child Lance, the details of Marianna he’d given him coming to life. The profile of her face was hidden, back to the viewer’s sight as she turned, scanned the ocean debris at her feet, the tumble of soft sand in the churning wave line. Smile lingering at the corner of her lips. A peek of profile through her hair but only details, not her whole face. Curls tumbling down her back, the wind catching them, lifting a few stray tendrils. Pointing, reaching, directing a grinning Lance to another sea treasure she’d spotted for him to bring back home.

He wasn’t sure how many hours he’d spent on it; shading in her shadow on the sand, working to capture the gentle folds of of her sundress, capturing every detail Lance had told him about her. All he knew for certain was that it had been early noon when he’d started, and when he’d finally stopped the sun had already gone down. 

He didn’t color it. Knew he wouldn’t have to explain to Lance why. How sometimes the best and worst memories looked better in black and white? In the crisp shadows of grayscale, how if you tried to bring back too much you could lose it all? That a memory was its own breed of ghost? How he knew beyoind a doubt he could never capture the blue of the ocean, the warm shade of her eyes, the soft highlights of her hair. Like trying to pin down the wind. Same as capturing her visage without a picture, he didn’t dare attempt bringing the life of color to this memory. Didn’t want to trespass any further than he potentially had.

The smile from before fades, breath catching in his throat enough it hurts to swallow around. Makes him work to force words around his words, his feelings, how little room they leave for anything else.

“Really not good at telling people about how I feel about them when it really counts. Always preffered to show them instead so---.” the words trail off, and he reaches out a hand for the last gift, pushes it within Lance’s reach as his heart begins to hammer away at the cage his ribs suddenly are.

“Not sure if it’s anything like you remember but I wanted to do something for you. Something special. And this wouldn’t leave me alone till I finished it. Ended up drawing it the same day you told me about it. Really hope I didn’t fuck up.” He elects not to tell Lance he means in general, not just the sketch itself. 

“You mean----, a lot to me Lance. I don’t even have words for it and I have a few languages to choose from. Hasn’t helped. But I wanted you to know, wanted to show you. Anyways, happy birthday.”

       💸 ║ ❛   ————— It always overwhelms him a bit, all these feelings towards Joel and how observing he actually is. Definitely not a man he’s ever met before. And Lance had men before that showed interest in him, tried to promise him the world but in the end the motives were completely focused on the MONEY and lifestyle of the rich and famous. And it’s not like Lance never understood, money and luxury are things he himself enjoys the most as well. But that thought just always runs around his mind; people wouldn’t give a damn about someone like him if he didn’t have all the money, the cars and the big mansion. JOEL is a different kind of man though. Lance managed to convince himself that even if there wasn’t all this money and luxury, Joel would still be there. But most importantly, Joel IS actually here, between all these nice things and in the end all he cares about is putting the smile on Lance’s face. 

          Lance examines all the gifts while Joel goes off explaining the details. He does listen to what he has to say very carefully but his mind is telling him things. What is it that Joel sees in him that makes him so sure he’s deserving of these things. It only makes Lance notice that he’s only good at accepting gifts as long as he knows the person didn’t really put any effort into it. But all the effort Joel put into it, Lance doesn’t wanna ruin the good moment. Ruin it with his bad thoughts punishing him for feeling grateful for something he doesn’t quite deserve. He is pretty good at shutting his mind off if things make him too vulnerable, so that’s his solution.

          A bright smile forms on his lips while looking at all these nice things. Suddenly it just feels so warm inside him, almost pressuring as if there’s something he just has to let out. It’s just a feeling of genuine HAPPINESS that Joel manages to break free, and usually that feeling is archived once he’s had a few shots. No alcohol this time, there’s no need for it. Not even his mind is running to it. Blue eyes wander from all these beautiful gifts to Joel, only for a short moment though. He’s desperately trying to form a sentence in his head to not seem like a child who’s got all the presents it wished for. But talking, expressing himself is hard when he tries to not get over that spot of vulnerability. 

          ❝   Qué digo, qué digo.. Thank you, amorcito, honestly. I really don’t know what to say.   ❞  And just as he tries to fight his brain to throw out ANY WORDS, there is another gift coming. Joel seems much more nervous about it, much more emotional. Lance doesn’t wonder too long after he eventually unwrapped it and now examines this personal work. It just causes him to feel a lot of emotions, they just hit him like lightning, yet he’s QUIET for a moment. While there’s still this burst of happiness, there’s also an ache in his heart that’s not easy to handle. A picture like that doesn’t exist but when he looks at it it feels like there’s something real about it. Lance never had a picture of MARIANNA, but if he did he wouldn’t hide it away like he does with the picture of his own mother. Marianna deserves much more than what he’s able to give her. And the fact that Joel actually took the time to awake the memories in his heart does cause him to get very emotional about it. Things like that make him cry like a baby when he’s alone, so he’s really fighting some tears. He doesn’t wanna cry on his birthday.

         ❝   I can’t believe you did that. Man, soy demasiado emocional para esto. This is a lot. I love it.   ❞   At least he got out a little bit before his emotions make his eyes all watery. Still, he fights hard not to cry over it. So the best way to hide that is to simply throw his arms around the other man’s shoulders. The hug holds on for a moment until Lance interrupts it to place a kiss on Joel’s lips.    ❝   Merci, chérie.   ❞

[davidastbury]

It was one of coldest winters ever - but he hardly noticed. The economy was in recession, strikes everywhere - but it meant nothing to him. Nuclear war with the Soviets seemed to get nearer each passing day - but it didn’t interest him. Big changes at his firm; opportunities, promotions up for the asking, but he didn’t ask, didn’t put himself forward. Instead he drifted along, smiling and polite, vague and optimistic, willing yet unreliable, glad to see you but glad to get away.

In a single conversation I learned everything and nothing. We talked for a few minutes in a bus-shelter

Oy

The mother went crazy when she discovered that her daughter was seeing a non-Jewish boy. At first the girl tried to sell the idea that it was just a normal date, but it soon became clear that there was more to it. The parents were shocked and appalled.

When the girl told her boyfriend about all this he telephoned the father; suggesting that meet up, man to man so to speak, and try to find a way forward. The father shouted abuse and made threats. That was that.

A bit later the girl’s elder sister came up from London. She was hoping to mediate a solution. The father informed the family that he had briefly explained the situation to his family daughter’s employer (she had worked at the same place as her boyfriend) and she no longer had a job there - instead she would work with him. The elder sister stayed on at the house because her marriage was troubled, but she didn’t mention it at the time, not wishing to add to her parents worries.

The girl and the boy continued to see each other. Several of their friends were supportive - even giving them use of their homes so that they could be together alone. Meanwhile the father became incandescent with anger and he told his daughter - with the mother wringing her hands in the background - that if she didn’t end the affair she would be considered dead by the family and the community. This was the threat of following the ritual of ‘sitting shiva’ - a practice during the first days of mourning for a close relative. The girl would be dead to them.

Later the mother told her that she had been diagnosed with cancer - not sure which type - and that she was going in for a big op. She pushed the girl back and told her that she was to blame for the illness.

It was all too much for the girl. The relationship ended.

The elder sister got divorced.

The mother’s operation was a success.

The father went bankrupt but he appeared not to mind. He had been secretly ‘seeing’ another woman and used the euphoria of his wife’s recovery to ease out the bad news.

They divorced.

The girl eventually took up with a nice boy she had known all her life (she was nineteen). He was a dentist already; they married.

The boyfriend took it all in his stride.

Twenty years later he converted to Judaism.

B.

I will be in the staying overnight in a certain town and, out of the blue, remembered that this is where an old friend lives. We haven’t seen each other for a long time. Made some enquires with mutuals and learnt the following:-

He couldn’t hold down his job - teaching in ‘higher education’. Years of medication and then early (very early) retirement on a cruelly reduced pension.

Divorced and lives alone.

Does not answer his phone.

Takes weeks to answer letters.

No longer reads - he taught English Literature.

No longer listens to music.

Recluse - only leaves his house for shopping and walking neighbour’s dog.

I’ve decided I don’t want to see him - I will not be phoning him or trying to make contact. This might be surprising, coming from someone who has written thousands of little stories about his old friends etc. But for me they belong in the stories; I am totally unsentimental about this. Nearly everyone in my life is new - I relish the rush of curiosity excited by a new individual - the stranger on the train attracts me more than any figure in the past - there isn’t the slightest wish to come face to face with Russell and Caroline, Ian and Lorna - or ‘Uncle Tom Cobley’ and all.

Favourite cafe. Chairs and tables spread out over the pavement. Watching the flow of people. Nothing of great interest for a while but I don’t mind. I enjoy watching. In a way it’s like fishing or birdwatching, you just wait - and watch.

Nice young couple - the boy particularly, he has the luminous shine of someone who is loved - and has been loved all his life. You can spot people like him quite easily - you can see that they were ‘wanted’ and treasured right from birth. They have a glow, an atmosphere about them; they are often, but not always, very charming people. This boy has it - and then some more. I can imagine that earlier today his mother might have immaculately ironed a shirt for him - but he didn’t want to wear it, and instead chose a crumpled T-shirt, and she just smiled and hung it up carefully. I can imagine the characteristic unspoken irritation on his father’s face and the difficulty he has in finding the right tone - the right voice when speaking to his son. But they get along okay, or as well as you could expect.

His girlfriend appears to be very taken by him. She looks up - all her attention is on her glorious boyfriend, not the hundreds of people swamping the pavement. We all get in the way - preventing her doing what she wants to do - preventing her pulling his head down and showing him that she can do things that no other girlfriend has ever done.

Saw a youngster playing what appeared to be war games on a small IPad - it was something violent because the screen flashed whenever he made a hit. It was impressive in a way - he unquestionably had astonishing reflexes and motor skills (that might not be the right word). And maybe there is a positive psychological aspect - in his imagination he may have been saving the world from a hostile invasion.

There isn’t much difference from how I was at his age. I fantasied about saving this country from our usual European enemy - sitting up late at night, just a single naked lightbulb, crouched over a table, my wrist working furiously - tapping out crucial information on my Morse code key.

I suppose memorising the Morse code is more challenging, but there are similarities.

Russell and Caroline and Me ... (1959)

A very rare memory - the three of us walking together; Russell in the middle. He was crowing with laughter and swaying about, losing his balance, pushing us with his shoulders. Caroline was laughing too; she linked arms with him and Russell linked arms with me.

We walked up the road. It was around the time that school finished for the big summer break - it might have been the last day. Caroline was dazzling; I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

We passed the ten bedroom mansion commissioned by a market stall-holder who had won a fortune on the football pools. We passed the small park where men used to linger around the gents lavatory. We passed the mock Tudor hotel where the landlord owned a noisy Morgan sports car.

I didn’t want that walk to end - even during the walking I didn’t want it to end - and in a way, given the right mood and circumstances, it never has.

Artistic Stirrings

One of the good things about doing drawings - even if the results are disappointing - is the way that the image becomes fixed in your mind. I once tried to do drawings of Russell’s dad, and they were very disappointing but the memory is vivid.

The setting was a service of commemoration in the town’s main church; it was the centenary of some benefactor, some eminent figure of the past. Russell’s parents had been invited and Russell had told them that he would attend only if I was also invited.

The two of us arrived early and his parents appeared with only a couple of minutes to spare. I got a wink from his father and a nice smile from his mother - nothing at all from Caroline. I remember that there wasn’t enough space for them in our row of seats and his mother hissed for us to move forward and join them - Russell refused. They took their places in front of us. Caroline neatly seated between her parents - ‘one forward and one diagonal’ like a knight’s move in chess.

The church gave me the creeps - the thick stone pillars and iron rings made me think of a torture dungeon of the Inquisition. And then the service groaned into action.

I looked at Russell’s dad and immediately wanted to draw him. I wanted to draw the way he took his place and then, how he leaned forward, shielding his eyes and mumbled a fake prayer. But best of all was seeing him during the hymns - the way he stood - hymn book in one hand and the other hand in the side pocket of his blazer. So fabulously superior and casual - just his fingers were in the pocket; his thumb was hooked outside the pocket. I was only thirteen years old but this pose struck me as totally English; no foreigner would attempt it.

There seemed to be quite a number of hymns - all in the same mood of drearily triumphalism. The choir warmed to the task, giving it all they had, heads back, open throated. The organ roared and thundered, making the building shake. I got caught up it all myself and began to enjoy the madness - the throbbing bliss of the noise - the voluptuous brasses - the yellow light from the altar candles - the crimson canopy over the nailed up Jesus and the snug tightness of Caroline’s skirt.

Russell’s House ... in retrospect

It was impressive; standing back from the road with a curving drive, half-concealed by old trees. The sort of house that might have stained-glass fanlights, French windows at the back, expensive rugs, dado rails, brass stair rods, a vestibule and somewhere in the hall for a visitor to sit and wait, a ring-pull chime, watercolours in the dining room, German crockery, engraved silverware. Actually, it had all these - as did other solid homes in the 1950s - the homes of bank managers, headmasters, clergymen and such like.

But other things should be mentioned. There was a garden shed disfiguring the side view. The edges of the lawn at the front were chewed up with tyre tracks because the turning circle was tight. The hall was always cluttered with bicycles; at least one upside-down for repairs - the lower parts of the walls were dark with the rubbing of dogs; the same dogs that scratched the doors in their pre walk frenzies. All the sofas and chairs had traces of cat hairs; people sometimes tripped over the feeding bowls and water dishes. Russell’s musical instruments were scattered and Caroline’s paint boxes were often mixed in with the plates and glassware.

All this might have caused eyebrows to raise. But you see, it was the home of a happy family - the happiest family I have ever known.

Tunisia

Sir David Attenborough recently said that we are a plague on the earth and that we have no more right to life than any other species.

Well, I for one have done okay - house and food, cars and holidays, good suits and watches, healthcare and financial comfort.

Outside, under my window there is a cat making noises. The only thing she had in the world were her three tiny kittens. She no longer has the kittens because they were taken away early this morning - and she is looking for them

Wrestling with Russell

We were both reasonably good at school sports - in the way that twelve-year-olds tend to be - but our speciality was wrestling. Together we devised our private version which had its own rules and system of scoring.

Wrestling bouts were carried out spontaneously, at any suitable moment. It was always started as an act of surprise - one of us would simply attack the other - preferably during a moment of distraction.

On one occasion, when we were alone in Russell’s house, he suddenly seized me in an arm-lock. This wasn’t the ‘arm twisted up the back’ variety popular with law-enforcement officers, but a very painful version where the arm is pressed against the joint. I responded with the only blow permitted in our rules - a sharp chop on the neck with the side of my hand. And then the two of us toppled over, landing with a thud on the carpet.

Once on the floor there could only be two options - ‘knockout’ or a ‘submission’. Submissions meant that one of us - in great pain - calling out ‘Give in!’ A knockout usually meant getting astride your opponent’s chest and pressing his shoulders down to a count of ‘one-two-three!’

Anyway ... we were rolling over, grunting and giggling, knocking things over, each trying to get a firm grip of the other - when the door swung open and Caroline - beautiful Caroline - was standing over us.

‘What are you two doing?’

Her opinion of me, already low, plunged to irreversible depths.

If your writing’s simply rubbish, raise your hands! (boo hoo)

If your writing’s simply rubbish, raise your hands! (boo hoo)

If your writing’s always rubbish and no one wants to publish

‘cos your writings really rubbish raise your hands.

(boo hoo!)

If you’ve got writer’s block, scratch your ‘ed (boo hoo)

If you’ve got writer’s block, scratch your ‘ed (boo hoo)

If the block’s real bad, and you feel you’re going mad

If you’ve got writer’s block, scratch your ‘ed.

If ideas come thick and fast, clap your hands

If ideas come thick and fast, clap your hands

If ideas come thick and fast and you think they’re goin’ to last

If ideas come thick and fast, clap your hands.

If an agent likes your book (shout hooray!

If an agent likes your book (shout hooray!

If he says it’s really good and you never thought he would

If an agent likes your book (shout hooray!

When the movie man says ‘sign here’ (woo hoo)

When the movie man says ‘sign here’ (woo hoo)

When he offers me his pen and I count from one to ten,

When the movie man says ‘sign here’ ((woo hoo).